Poem October 30, 1909 Issue

[Written for the Sentinel.]

RECOMPENSE

LILLA ELLEN BOWLEY.

Gone! all the struggle and the vain regret.
Gone, with the hope I strove for and could not attain.
Gone, like the childish dream about a joy; and yet
The dream was not the real desire, deep-hidden in my heart by pain
And all the surface jangle of a mimic life.

Vain words! that could not hint my soul's true speech;
Vain efforts to arrest the freezing touch of hate;
Vain tears! dropped on the frosted pane;
they could not reach
The heart of winter, but they thawed the ice which late
Obscured a fairer vision from my longing eyes.

Dawn! on a scene of glistening beauty white!
Dawn, with its soft gray background for the fairy lines
Traced on each blade and branch and twig by hoar-frost light,
And limned with myriad detail on the feathered pines—
Soon, all will shine resplendent, though 'tis winter's day.

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