Page:Florence Earle Coates Mine and Thine 1904 025.jpg

 Rh We see her brow, and we rejoice,

Her cheek, as it pales and flushes,

We hear once more in her thrilling voice

The note of the woodland thrushes;

And through her lashes, tear-empearled,

A mystic light is breaking,

And all the love of the whole wide world

Seems in her eyes awaking!