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QUIETNESS.
[Margaret.]
IS the world so very sad a place ?
Looking out here through geranium leaves,
We can see the sky all rosy grace,
And can feel, what one of us believes,
That He giveth His beloved sleep, —
Not in death alone we cease to weep.
Softly, shining cloudlets come and go,
While the blue shows deeper in between,
And the very sunset leaves a glow
Lovelier than all rays the day has seen :
Flecks of light make blossoms on the floor.
Silent music wraps us o'er and o'er.
