Songs Divine

I painted sorrow in a young girl's eyes

And drew the corners of her red lips down;

I etched the pain of a heart that longing cries

For love that opens as the rose is blown.

I heard the music, caught the soul's perfume,

Its rhythm marked and felt the cadence clear

Of youth undaunted by the hand of doom

Or touched as yet by the chill breath of fear.

A joy so rare broke sweetly through her smile,

She seemed a child of God from future years;

Though I must leave, my soul shall stay awhile,

My songs divine to dry her youthful tears.