Page:Ballads of a Bohemian.djvu/68

66 And then–God opens wide the door; Our wondrous wings are arched for flying; We poise, we part, we sing, we soar… Light, freedom, love.… Fools call it–Dying.

She risked her all, they told me, bravely sinking The pinched economies of thirty years; And there the little shop was, meek and shrinking, The sum of all her dreams and hopes and fears.