lf--and grew red, I confess,
As a good workman should, when a poor job is done;
But the joy of her laugh and the sweet, swift caress
Overpaid me, a hundred to one!...
And then as she stood on the brow of the hill
And swayed in the wind, as Youth ever will,
I think that I heard her silv'ry laugh trill....
But perish the thought that she'd spoken in fun!

UNFINISHED

The radiant dawn flows up the empty sky,
Its singing colors heralding the day,
And yet, before the tardy sun is high,
Unfinished morning fades and slips away.
While Nature holds her fragrant breath at dawn
Watching the loveliness she's made--it's gone!

From dew-drenched garden thrills a thrush's call--
That liquid note that all night long was stilled--
The living chalice, brown and bright and small,
Seems with the joy of living overfilled--
Then suddenly, unfinished, clear and sweet
The song is drowned in noises from the street.

So at the edge of dusk my love for you
Would speak to your white soul, would humbly come
To tell the age-old story, ever new--
But in the pulsing twilight Love is dumb!
Oh, heart of mine, within your quiet breast
Unfinished dawn--and song--and love--find rest!

PAID IN ADVANCE

What is the cost of a day in Spring--
A wind-swept, rain-washed golden day?
A day that with joy is bubbling--
And dancing adown a world mad-gay?

You've paid for that day with days gone by--
The gloomy days and the days of rain;
The days that you'd like to forget--and try--
Days that were tuned to a note of pain.

Others there are who will never forget
The lowering clouds and the sodden world,
But--though you paid as they paid, eyes wet--
Your banner of courage was still unfurled!

That was the price of this day in June,
Paid in advance with a shrug and a smile--
While others complained, you heard a tune,
Making the gloomiest day worth while!

WE RODE AT NIGHT

We rode at night, and the cut-steel stars
Daggered the black of the quiet sky;
Yet Venus had taken the place of Mars
In the Scheme of the Silent Worlds on high.
The ribbon of road ran straight ahead;
The night air whipped your hair and your face,
Our hearts kept time to the horses' pace,
And we were alive, and our blood was red!

We rode at night.... Though you did not speak
I nearer drew--there was none to see--
Love lent me strength to an arm not weak,
And I swept you out of your saddle--to me!
I rowelled your horse