“She loved you better than you knew.”
—ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN.
Nature does not recognize
This strife that rends the earth and skies;
No war-dreams vex the winter sleep of clover-heads and daisy-eyes:
When blood her grassy altar wets,
She sends the pitying violets
To heal the outrage with their bloom and cover it with soft regrets.
—ELIZABETH AKERS ALLEN.
Sure thou didst flourish once! and many springs,