by Katharine Lee Bates
The daily commonplace our mirth would brighten
With twinkling as of saffron butterflies
On yellow-blossomed bush of indigo,
But to the solemn joy beyond the skies,
That crystal sphere no sun nor stars enlighten,
Can Laughter come? The sages answer no.
Then, Laughter, in my lonely heart still tarry,
A sweet and bitter fool, and gently break
Your quips and whimsies on this brooding Grief
Till he arouse. Ay, even for Sorrow's sake
Stay with us that our burden we may carry
More lightly for your loving disbelief.
Source:Yellow Clover: A Book Of Remembrance
E. P. Dutton & Company, New York