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 | An idyl of work |  |
Then Esther softly asked, “Is not God near
In every kind thought of a human heart?
Look on your pillow, Ruth!”
Turning her head,
With eyes tear-softened, the pale girl beheld
A knot of delicate flowers,—anemones,
Woven of wind and snow, and faintly flushed
As a babe's cheek; and violets blue, that breathed
A sweetness not of earth; and pale gold bells
Of uvularia; and a tuft or two
Of downy-stemmed rock-saxifrage, that brings
New England sea-crags their first hint of May;
And liverleaf, its satin-folded cups
Transparent, tinged with amethyst and rose.
All faintly colored, as our spring flowers are,
With fine, cool, elemental tints,—the light
Of pink and amber sunsets upon snow.
In every kind thought of a human heart?
Look on your pillow, Ruth!”
Turning her head,
With eyes tear-softened, the pale girl beheld
A knot of delicate flowers,—anemones,
Woven of wind and snow, and faintly flushed
As a babe's cheek; and violets blue, that breathed
A sweetness not of earth; and pale gold bells
Of uvularia; and a tuft or two
Of downy-stemmed rock-saxifrage, that brings
New England sea-crags their first hint of May;
And liverleaf, its satin-folded cups
Transparent, tinged with amethyst and rose.
All faintly colored, as our spring flowers are,
With fine, cool, elemental tints,—the light
Of pink and amber sunsets upon snow.
| An idyl of work | |