And sunset cheers with a touch of umber
The puddles of steel-gray Gruyère cheese.
And, interposing a little ease,
Our frail thoughts dally with false surmises
Of a morning as brilliant as mid July’s is
With bravest sunshine and sweetest breeze.
A soothing silence the soul surprises,
For the little Maid, like a hero true,
Has fought her fight through its poignant crises,
And shown what practice can dare and do.