The Rambling Sailor/May, 1915

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MAY, 1915
  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 surpriseTo 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.


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