Poems (White)/Rixford Lincoln
RIXFORD LINCOLN
Do you know him, this poet man? He's gentle and mild as cloistered nun Sheltered away from glaring sun. Pure as a child, without the guile; Quiet and kind all of the while; Full of his church, full of his dreams. Evil is clothed, for good to him seems. Look in his face, and then you'll see Meekness, perchance, all good that be.