[Written for the Sentinel.]

A SPRING THOUGHT

I stood alone with the sunlit peaceOf woods in springtime; the warm quiet airLay like a tender presence on the trees,And leaned low down to greet the waking flowers;And all the turmoil of unquiet hours,The disappointed, feverish search for ease,Dropped, like a garment one has ceased to wear,Before the young year's promise of increase.

In that soft silence, where no sense of strifeHindered the steadfast purpose to attain,Each tiny leaf and petal did its share,Curved or unbent, to form a perfect whole.And as I looked, keen longing filled my soulThat, led by Love, I too my part might bear,Might humbly serve, and fearless still maintain,Through sun and shade, the peace of man's true life.

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FROM OUR EXCHANGES
April 13, 1912
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