Golden rose the moon of March that
still mild night;
Silver white through purple pierced
the star: points bright,
Not a whisper murmured in the
pines above,
Silence lived like music in a dream
of love.
Thirty years have vanished like the
sunset gleam,
Life and death the shadows falling
on a stream;
Good and ill betrayed us—wrought
us passing pains,
Peace the only perfect gift the soul
attains
Birth has taught us yearning for
Eternal Day;
Births to come will set us far
that Shining Way;
Beauty clothes the pageant, Love
preserves it whole;
All the mighty magic serves the
Sun led soul
