’For ruling wisely I should have small skill,
Were I not lord of simple Dara still;
That sceptre kept, I could not lose my way.’ 
Strange dew in royal eyes grew round and bright,
And strained the throbbing lids; before ’twas night
Two added provinces blest Dara’s sway. 60

THE FIRST SNOW-FALL

The snow had begun in the gloaming,
  And busily all the night
Had been heaping field and highway
  With a silence deep and white.

Every pine and fir and hemlock
  Wore ermine too dear for an earl,
And the poorest twig on the elm-tree
  Was ridged inch deep with pearl.

From sheds new-roofed with Carrara
  Came Chanticleer’s muffled crow,
The stiff rails softened to swan’s-down,
  And still fluttered down the snow.

I stood and watched by the window
  The noiseless work of the sky,
And the sudden flurries of snowbirds,
  Like brown leaves whirling by.

I thought of a mound in sweet Auburn
  Where a little headstone stood;
How the flakes were folding it gently,
  As did robins the babes in the wood.

Up spoke our own little Mabel,
  Saying, ‘Father, who makes it snow?’
And I told of the good All-father
  Who cares for us here below.

Again I looked at the snow-fall,
  And thought of the leaden sky
That arched o’er our first great sorrow,
  When that mound was heaped so high.

I remembered the gradual patience
  That fell from that cloud like snow,
Flake by flake, healing and hiding
  The scar that renewed our woe.

And again to the child I whispered,
  ’The snow that husheth all,
Darling, the merciful Father
  Alone can make it fall!’

Then, with eyes that saw not, I kissed her: 
  And she, kissing back, could not know
That my kiss was given to her sister,
  Folded close under deepening snow.

THE SINGING LEAVES

A BALLAD

I

‘What fairings will ye that I bring?’
  Said the King to his daughters three;
’For I to Vanity Fair am bound,
Now say what shall they be?’

Then up and spake the eldest daughter,
  That lady tall and grand: 
’Oh, bring me pearls and diamonds great,
  And gold rings for my hand.’

Thereafter spake the second daughter,
  That was both white and red:  10
’For me bring silks that will stand alone,
  And a gold comb for my head.’

Then came the turn of the least daughter,
  That was whiter than thistle-down,
And among the gold of her blithesome hair
  Dim shone the golden crown.

’There came a bird this morning,
  And sang ’neath my bower eaves,
Till I dreamed, as his music made me,
  “Ask thou for the Singing Leaves."’ 20