She Is The Grace Of All That Are
by Katharine Lee Bates
She is the grace of all that are,
The fragrancy of morn,
The wild, blithe ring, afar, afar,
Of Dian's horn.
She is the hidden carol in
The fringes of the wood,
The sudden blue when clouds wax thin,
The joy of good.
May God who wrought our fleeting race
Forbid her fatal star,
Remembering she is the grace
Of all that are.
Source:Yellow Clover: A Book Of Remembrance
E. P. Dutton & Company, New York