Some grace of thine, God’s harlequin,
Whose days were lavished like fool’s gold
Upon His pleasures manifold.
“Would God,” cried Francis, on his knees,
“I had a forest of such trees!”
THE THRONE OF THE KING
By Francis Clement Kelley
The sun was setting, and its golden glow
Deepened the shadows on the village street,
And reverent touched the beauty of the head