Page:Roses in Rain, by Lilian Wooster Greaves, 1910.pdf/46



Long years ago in dreams a strange sweet
 * voice

Said unto me, “Take up thy pen, and
 * write

A song that shall of all songs be the choice,
 * And fill the hearts of all men with
 * delight.”

And in my soul I pondered long and oft
 * Where I the wondrous harmonies might
 * learn—

The strain sublime, the cadence low and soft,
 * Rich chords of triumph, tender tones that
 * yearn.

What marvellous word-painting must I do
 * To fitly with the magic music wed!

How could I write interpretation true
 * Of all my inner keener sense had read?

’Twas a feast for the eye to remember,
 * When, as guest to the fair forest queen,

Thro’ the garlanded gates of September
 * Came Spring, in her garments of green.

Gay banners of blossom were flying
 * This laughing young fairy to greet;

Sweet welcome the zephyrs were sighing
 * The stream sang its bliss at her feet.