I
You are the sunshine,
I am the sod:
Flame to my leaf-mould,
And goldenrod.
II
You are the shadow,
I am the rock:
Coolness of sheep bells,
Stilling the flock.
III
You are the starlight,
I am the stream:
Trees dripping lustre
Into our dream.
CROSS ROADS
I wonder if the wildrose knows I love you,—
All the festivals of spring your name has lain
Now a petal on my bosom, now a leaf against my lip
In the rain?
I wonder if the wood thrush knows I love you,—
Every step a song, every song a flight home to you
While the path runs on through twilight and the night wheels back to day
And I pray?