A CATHEDRAL SINGER



and white blossoms, always she thought
of him. Always she saw him playing
in an eternal April. When autumn re-
turned and leaves withered and dropped,
she thought of herself.
  Sometimes standing beside his piano.
  Having always in her face the look of
immortal things.

  The cathedral there on its rock for
ages saying:
  "I am the Resurrection and the Life."





             THE END



142