To fill the measure of thy need
Dare I aspire—
Nor is there longing in my soul
For mission higher.
To fill the measure of thy need—
Dost thou not know,
The measure of my own deep need
Would but o’erflow?
MY CHRISTMAS WISH
A happy Christmas? Nay, far more shall be
My wish for you. I know how happiness
Flits in and out of our poor human lives,
Even as humming birds flit in and out
The upturned lily’s cup, or April’s sunshine
Pierces through the clouds only to vanish.
I own her magic touch, for she has been
My guest, and she wrought many a miracle.
I mind how she transformed the common things
Of life, and how she flung a glory o’er
The future, till my dreams of paradise
Seemed all fulfilled.
After the storm of battle
Cometh peace. Since I have heard her voice,
And felt the touch of her soft wings upon
My troubled spirit, I have ceased to pray
For happiness’ return, but I await
Her coming—grateful if she rarely come
And briefly stay.
And so my wish for you
Shall be my high’st prayer, that peace, God’s peace,
May enter through the portals of your life,
And there abide, your guest, forevermore.
TO A ROSEBUD
I pinned thee, Rosebud, on his coat
When thou wert fresh and fair,
And I recall thou did’st exhale
For us a fragrance rare.
With reverent touch, to-night I fold
Thy withered leaves with care
About this lifeless heart of thine,
And breathe a grateful prayer.
O tell me, Rosebud, wert thou deaf
To all we said that night;
Or did’st thou feel those kisses warm
That thrilled us with delight?