"For, know, one beautiful thing
   On the dark day's bosom curled,
 Makes the wild day glad to sing,
   Content to smile at the world.

 For the sinless world is fair,
   And man's is the sin and gloom;
 And dead are the days that were,
   But what are the days to come

"Be happy, dear heart, and wait!
   For the past is a memory:
 Tho' to-day seem somber as fate,
   Who knows what to-morrow will be"
And the May came on in her charms,
   With a twinkle of rustling feet;
 Blooms stormed from her luminous arms,
   And honey of smiles that were sweet.

 Now I think of her words that day,
   This day that I longed so to see,
 That finds her dead with the May,
   And the March but a memory.