Page:In Flanders Fields and Other Poems.djvu/59

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A Song of Comfort

"Do ye think with regret on the sunny days
And the path ye left, with its untrod ways?
The sun might sink in a storm cloud's frown
And the path grow rough when the night came down."

In the grey twilight of the autumn eves,
It sighed as it sang through the dying leaves:
 "Ye think with regret that the world was bright,
 That your path was short and your task was light;
 The path, though short, was perhaps the best
 And the toil was sweet, that it led to rest."