Page:Roses in Rain, by Lilian Wooster Greaves, 1910.pdf/50

 And nature’s favourite child, the sun, sink
 * gloriously to rest

With his ‘coat of many colours’ wrapped
 * around his glowing breast.

Or I’ve watched the ’luring moonbeams fling
 * their shimmering shafts of light,

Like a silver ladder leading up to regions
 * pure and bright.

Lightning flash, and roar of thunder, all have
 * come within my ken,

For the changeful skies above us have as
 * many moods as men;

From the blush of early morning till the
 * hush of midnight calm,

With the sullen gloom of tempest, or the
 * twilight’s soothing balm;

Thro’ an endless maze of beauty is my
 * tranced spirit led,

But, tho’ I should write forever, something
 * still would be unsaid.

How faulty the pen, and how helpless the
 * tongue

When strongest emotions arise in the
 * breast;

The sweetest of songs that has ever been
 * sung
 * Is only a key to the vast unexpressed.

The prayer that a fond mother breathes for her son,