Poem for July 23, 2026

(For Aline)

Now by what whim of wanton chance

Do radiant eyes know sombre days?

And feet that shod in light should dance

Walk weary and laborious ways?

But rays from Heaven, white and whole,

May penetrate the gloom of earth;

And tears but nourish, in your soul,

The glory of celestial mirth.

The darts of toil and sorrow, sent

Against your peaceful beauty, are

As foolish and as impotent

As winds that blow against a star.