And Life has begun its morning.
He sang of Life in the spring o’ day,
Of patience, and truth, and duty,—
The narrow ways to the full release,
When, lapped in light and a dream of peace,
It bursts as a flower to beauty.
He sang—and his words fell thick and fast—
Of the resurrection glory;
Of good from evil, of life from death,
And then, with hesitant, bated breath,