Poems By Arjava

GREEN fields of promise have been marred by hail,

And half-grown fruit nipped by an icy breeze :

But here, far from the insolence of these,

Quieted their thunder-cras'h, their hurtling gale.

Cradled by Spring, a smooth plot fenced apart

Proffers foot-welcome to a sower's tread ;

How may it foster most dear leaves that spread,

Firm roots that delve from light grain held in the heart ?

Hearken the sower. His footsteps are your own.

Mine the smoothed ground where the hushed grains abide.

Nor yours nor mine the seed—a heavenly loan,

It finds mysterious growth, is multiplied,

Goldens to glories earth had never known :

And, in all this, be Friendship glorified.