Page:Florence Earle Coates Mine and Thine 1904 070.jpg



full of care

I tread the round

Of toil in which man's eager life is bound,

I faint not 'neath the load I bear;

For grievous though the burden sometimes be,

I dream of thee!

And when, at night,

I lie enwound

In silence that is sweeter than all sound,

The darkness, kindlier than light,