 | Florien |  |
163
TO MAUD.
Fair mystery of God, we cannot knowThe thrilling secret hid behind thine eyes,
Full of strange meaning we may not surprise
From the vexed passage of our life below;
Robbed of the dearest privilege we owe
Hearing, and all that in the hearing lies,
How poor the richest that man's hand supplies
To lend thee all the growth that here may grow!
Weak children that we are, weak we remain
To ease the burden of such griefs as this,
And from the shadow of a nameless pain
Grasp but the sunlight of a future bliss,
Knowing the life was never lived in vain,
That yields such answers to a mother's kiss.
| Florien | |