. Dreams and realities . re queenly, full-blown blossoms, Heavy with rare perfume,And buds whose waxen petals Had hardly dreamed of bloom. Two buds whose captive sweetness,From prisons pure and white, At the Masters silent bidding,Were only freed to-night. Two lilies dwarfed in blooming So far from the parent stem,But wondrous sweet and perfect, And a lesson I learned from them: That though our lives are severedFrom what once made them sweet, By silent, patient growingThey yet may be complete. ALIEN LILIES. 107 Not with the glorious beauty That once they might have known, But with a sweet perf
. Dreams and realities . re queenly, full-blown blossoms, Heavy with rare perfume,And buds whose waxen petals Had hardly dreamed of bloom. Two buds whose captive sweetness,From prisons pure and white, At the Masters silent bidding,Were only freed to-night. Two lilies dwarfed in blooming So far from the parent stem,But wondrous sweet and perfect, And a lesson I learned from them: That though our lives are severedFrom what once made them sweet, By silent, patient growingThey yet may be complete. ALIEN LILIES. 107 Not with the glorious beauty That once they might have known, But with a sweet perfection That the angels make their own. Though a breath of sadness minglesWith their perfume, faint and rare, Though they are dwarfed in blooming,They are none less sweet and fair. So though our lives are severedFrom the dreams and hopes of old, Like these sweet alien lilies,Our best may yet unfold. And though a hint of sorrow, From the tears that we have known, Will mingle with lifes perfume,Weve a sweetness all our HE SPEAKS TO ME. WHO says Gods voice is silent?That to us he speaks no word ?List, then, thou unbeliever, When the leafless trees are stirredBy the voice of the north wind, Bidding nature sleep once more,Sweet emblem of the dreamless restFor troubled hearts in store. He speaks to me in springtime, When the first bluebirds trillCalls to the buried flowers Beside the frozen the flowers resurrection My Father speaks to me,Saying, Behold, another life Is also waiting thee. He speaks to me at evening hour, When adown the western skyGleam colors more resplendent Than any earthly I catch, it seems, an echo From beyond the pearly gates,And he says: Behold, my daughter, Wondrous splendor for thee waits. HE SPEAKS TO ME. 109 Again, when countless jewels Shine upon the brow of night,I read my Fathers message In trembling worlds of light,And he seems to say: Be patient With your earthly ills and the stars sweet peace is waiting, And a robe and c
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