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 | At Sunset |  |
117
FLOWERS
The flowers are sure his teachers
Who learns their varied speech,
And wondrous are the sermons
The friendly blossoms preach.
Who learns their varied speech,
And wondrous are the sermons
The friendly blossoms preach.
The Winter bids them vanish;
They close their friendly eyes,
And wait the joyous sentence
When Spring shall bid them rise.
They close their friendly eyes,
And wait the joyous sentence
When Spring shall bid them rise.
They say, “Look up to heaven
With ever-radiant face,
Transmute earth's waste and rubbish
To purity and grace.
With ever-radiant face,
Transmute earth's waste and rubbish
To purity and grace.
“Our roots may know dark secrets,
But these we do not tell;
When peevish zephyr questions,
We answer, ‘All is well.’
But these we do not tell;
When peevish zephyr questions,
We answer, ‘All is well.’
“Whether we deck the wedding
Or garland o'er the bier,
Comes still the steadfast message:
The end of all's not here.
Or garland o'er the bier,
Comes still the steadfast message:
The end of all's not here.
118
“Pursue the humble wisdom
Wherewith God makes us wise,
And answer back his sentence
With hope that never dies.”
Wherewith God makes us wise,
And answer back his sentence
With hope that never dies.”
| At Sunset | |