The Two Awakenings: A Poem

THE TWO AWAKENINGS. From "Klethla, and Other Poems." When on our path the summer roses end, We sigh, and wish their bloom might always stay; Yet, as we sigh, we smile and turn away, For June will come, and roses bloom again.

But, when a soul sinks down in error stern, We name the sin, and calmly count its cost, Then of the end, we say that he is lost, And boast of strength that holds our own feet firm.

Yet, shall the flowers waken in the Spring, From shriveled blades and stalks all brown with rust; And erring souls, bowed with them in the dust, Be counted less than each unfolded thing?

Shall ice-bound streams burst out into the sun To thrill with life the waiting fields again, And, as they hasten past the homes of men, Sigh only these stern words, "Thy course is run"?

Shall only buds and trees brave o'er the frost, And every year in fuller life begin; Or, are they symbols of the souls of sin, That, too, shall rise, nor in life's storms be lost? —Bertha E. Anderson.