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86
TU MIHI SOLA DOMUS, TU, CYNTHIA, SOLA PARENTES
What is so fair as the first rose-tree's blushesAll diamonded o'er with morning dew?
What is so fresh as the green streamlet's rushes,
'Mid which the silvery fish their sport pursue?
What is so patient as my dog's eye waiting
The tardy summons to be up for stroll?
What is so gracious as art's least creating
Of some rare vision that enchants the soul?
Yet are these virtues all in thee residing,
Yea each choice jewel of man's pure estate;
Freshness and beauty, patience, joy abiding—
In and around thy presence, see, they wait.
Vexed by life's cares how far soe'er I roam
My spirit but turns to thee, and lo!—'tis Home!.
December 2nd, 1918
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