  (Written at Mountain Cottage, on Mount Wachusett, where Louisa M. Alcott spent the last summer of her life.) Last summer she believed that in and through these beauteous scenes God's loving self did flow, But now she knows 'tis so. For, having crossed the boundary lines of honest doubt and fear, She sees with spirit-eye What sense could not descry. Her firm belief, thus blossomed into perfect flower of sight, Becomes a restful cheer To all who linger here, Still asking for the secret of these changing, beauteous scenes, And troubled with the why Of all earth's sorrowing cry. Her presence here has filled the place with memory of a soul Made beautiful through pain Eternity to gain. August, 1888. |
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