So the folded hands take up their work,

And the weary feet pursue their way;

And all is clear when the good heart cries,

“Be brave!—to-morrow’s another day.”

Yellow Jasmine

Do angels come as flowers, O golden stars!

That I can hold within my small white palm?

Or were you dropped from o’er the crystal bars,

Filled with the perfume of celestial psalms?

495