[Written for the Sentinel]

Our Song*

Hark! I hear adown the ages—Like the chime-bells ringing clear,Erstwhile heard by pilgrims, sages,Or foretold by prophet, seer—

Just th' elusive, haunting fragmentsOf our melody sublime;Fused and harmonized these segmentsNow, in living, vibrant rhyme.

September 19, 1925

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