WHEN I travelled in the day I felt secure, and I did not heed the wonder of thy road, for I was proud of my speed; thy own light stood between me and thy presence. Now it is night, and I feel thy road at every step in the dark and the scent of flowers filling the silence-like mother's whisper to the child when the light is out. I hold tight thy hand and thy touch is with me in my loneliness.
YOUR DAYS WILL be full of cares, if you must give me your heart. My house by the cross-roads has its doors open and my mind is absent,-for I sing. I shall never be made to answer for it, if you must give me your heart. If I pledge my word to you in tunes now, and am too much in earnest to keep it when music is silent, you must forgive me; for the law laid in May is best broken in December. Do not always keep remembering it, if you must give me your heart. When your eyes sing with love, and your voice ripples with laughter, my answers to your questions will be wild, and not miserly accurate in facts,- they are to be believed for ever and then forgotten for good.
