LET us remember Spring will come again To the scorched, blackened woods, where the wounded trees Wait, with their old wise patience for the heavenly rain, Sure of the sky: sure of the sea to send its healing breeze, Sure of the sun. And even as to these Surely the Spring, when God shall please, Will come again like a divine surprise To those who sit to-day with their great Dead, hands in their hands, eyes in their eyes, At one with Love, at one with Grief: blind to the scattered things and changing skies.
