New Zealand Verse/A Roundel

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XCVII.

A Roundel.

Once in a while the skies seem blue,
 The way grows pleasant for a mile;
Fair blossoms spring where no flowers grew—
    Once in a while.

We leave the road—and mount the stile,
 And hear the throstle’s song anew—
An anthem in a vaulted aisle.

Grief loses somewhat of its hue,
 Tired, tear-worn eyes look up and smile,
When God’s sweet sunshine stealeth through,
    Once in a while.

W. Francis Chambers

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