  I WHO had wandered a weary mile, harkened a voice and knocked. Lo, Love answered, with song and smile, Though the wind of autumn mocked; All in the dawn I beheld Love’s face, set in a rose of flame— Oh, song is sweet in a lonely place And Love called me by name! “Stay while the rose and the song are one, linger with Love for a day!” “And what of the heart at set of sun When it fares on its lonely way?” “Nay, bide with Love in the flower of dawn, only the dawn with me!” “And what of the heart when it wanders on? And what of the night to be?” “Think not of night, but of Love’s fair face, thine for a golden morn!” Oh, song is sweet in a lonely place, But I turned to the rock and thorn. For had I lingered a fleeting while, what of the Road of Years? I, who had wandered a weary mile, Fared on to the Well of Tears. Virginia Woodward Cloud. |
|
