A SPRING THOUGHT

EDITH C. CARTER.

I stood alone with the sunlit peace
Of woods in springtime; the warm quiet air
Lay 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 strife
Hindered 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 soul
That, 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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