July 15

SO spake the hoary thyme Half hidden in the grass,

"I watch from morning prime Until my Lord shall pass;

I wait my Lord to greet, I can but love and sigh;

I watch His eye to meet, He can but pass me by;

And if His hasty feet

Should crush me, it were sweet Beneath His feet to die."

Now will I rise and sing A song which I have made

Unto my Lord the King, Nor will I be afraid

To ask Him of His flowers that spring In sunshine and in shade—

'Thou bearest flowers within thy hand, Thou wearest on thy breast

A flower: now tell me which of these Thy flowers thou lovest best;

Which wilt thou gather to thy heart Beloved above the rest?"

"I gather to a heavenly bower My roses fair and sweet,

I hide within my breast the flower That grows beside My feet."

DORA GREEN- WELL

LIFE