Poem January 9, 1915 Issue

[Written for the Sentinel]

Only

MINNA MATHISON

It was only a drop of dew
That watered the heart of a rose ;
But the rose bloomed out her gracious span,
A thing of beauty and praise for man,
In her fragrant garden close.

It was only the song of a bird
By her nest in the spreading tree;
But the song that brust from the tiny breast
Dispelled the gloom of a heart oppressed,
And set new gladness free.

It was only a tender thought
Of the Father's love and power;
But a heart with pain and woe oppressed
Through that loving thought found strength and rest,
And was healed that very hour.

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