Page:Religious Poems.djvu/49



ENEATH the sunny autumn sky,

With gold leaves dropping round,

We sought, my little friend and I,

The consecrated ground,

Where, calm beneath the holy cross,

O'ershadowed by sweet skies,

Sleeps tranquilly that youthful form,

Those blue unclouded eyes.

Around the soft, green swelling mound

We scooped the earth away,

And buried deep the crocus-bulbs

Against a coming day.

"These roots are dry, and brown, and sere;

Why plant them here?" he said,

"To leave them, all the winter long,

So desolate and dead."