[Written for the Sentinel.]


A full, clear note with the 'cello's depth and powerSounds in the word that means to mortals moreThan fullest thought can tell in verse or song.Joy is not born of earth—has no earth-hue.Its color-tones are heaven's own rainbow tints.And still the one white light of purity.Joy comes when error's clouds are met with Love;Comes when, unselfed, we seek another's gain;Comes when the heart is one with God. And thenThe day is radiant; in all the air is song,And heavenly harmony attunes our thoughtTo Love's low voice. Then only can we hearThe sofly whispered words—Well done!

December 26, 1908

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