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CANADIAN SINGERS AND THEIR SONGS
On a Violet Leaf
from Keats’ Grave.
_______..______
After the sharp salt kiss,
Blossom and thorn of grief,
Time has no more than this,—
A leaf.
Out of the battled years,
The glory and the wrong,
Time gives, for all our tears,—
A song.
Is it of fragrance made,
Woven and rhymed of light,
The voice that from some shade
Silvers the night?
When the last shadows slope
And day's own rose is pale,—
O love, immortal hope,—
His nightingale!
Marjorie L. Pickthall.
113
