THE FALSE AND THE REAL

LAURA GERAHTY.

I Thought I loved — but when the sun was shining
I caught the shadows only, on the grass.
Alone I mourned, for loved ones ever pining,
And lo! Love's presence yet I let it pass.

The dainty flowers were scenting all the highway,
All radiant in their sweetness where I stepped;
I trod upon the thistle in the byway,
Leaving the blood-stains where I walked and wept.

Harvests were ripened; and the cattle weary
Through drought and heat dragged home the golden
grain;
I saw no prospect, save a winter dreary;
Through my cold heart the snow, through tears the rain.

I leaned upon a brother in my sorrow,
His arm around me ever in my pain;
Then by my impotence there fell a morrow
That he grew weary—and our paths were twain.

Long in the shadow-land I sought him, yearning

To bid him lean on me, his load to share;

And while I prayed I found him, home returning,
Disguised in sorrow, worn and bent with care.

My sorrow vanished in the joy of giving;
Raising the drooping form, the weary head.
Ah, then I loved! When for another striving—
Lo! in my arms I found the Christ instead.

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