Page:Twilight Hours (1868).djvu/90

" Why fret your conscience, cousin, writing thus ? "
So Agnes pleaded. Mark said, " Life is sweet."
" And roses are so dear." Reproachfully
She glanced to where, for nearly all the year,
A vase of roses stood beside her hand.
" They make life's sweetness. Agnes sing to me ;
Tis better than rebuking — juster, too."
She, docile, sang a simple village lay: —
" Down the mountain came the stream,
Leaping in the glowing beam
From the daylight's brightening gleam,
On the sunny morning.
" Crimson foxglove, tall and high,
Bowed as though a king went by ;
Heather stood up, proud and shy,
On the sunny morning.
"By the streamlet sat we two,
Throned among wild hearts'-ease blue,
While he said 'Dear, I love you.'
Oh, the sunny morning ! "