WHITE FLOWERS ON A WOMAN'S GRAVE.

Otago Witness, Issue 2663, 29 March 1905, Page 63

WHITE FLOWERS ON A WOMAN'S GRAVE.

While poppies, roses, clematis — all white!

Nay, then, but I am tired of white, and fain For colour, brilliant sun-fed colour, bright

And gay as sin, to glad my soul again. Give white to babes and angels, — none am

I; My life was full of sorrow, mn, and wrong, Wrong suffered, and wrong done, and time

sped by

Less in repentance than triumphant song. "White is for innocence. Dear heart, I know

That thou wouldst hold me innocent ; claim For me the right to wear this badge ; but, oh! My soul finds more content in scarlet's flame. Death is a passing moment; — can it then Make so great difference in a soul that flies From this brief living to the next, again

To sin and 'sorrow till again it dies? How can swift death one's inmost essence change,

And turn a scarlet life to sudden white? Not God's own self works miracles so strange!

And darkened eyes go blind in sudden light, I am the same, dear heart, the very sanie

Sin-loving, colour-loving one you knew When here I tarried, happy; do not blame

My liot desire to be the same to you For ever and for ever; changed in naught, For fear one change might mean a change in all ; To be your love and love you, — that I sought, And still shall seek, when heaven itself shall fall. Nothing T want that takes me far from you ; Nothing that parts me from my one ideal ; No more white flowers for me, dear heart and true, My soul burns red for you, still red and leal. — T. T. Dunedin, March, 1905.