POEMS BY IRENE HARDY 203 



And I knew that my inmost thought 

 Greater faith for itself had wrought 

 From the song of the thrush 

 In the evening's hush ; 

 For I heard as 'twere the very word 

 Of the voice there was no denying 

 Of One in the wilderness crying 

 Thru the song of the thrush 

 In the evening's hush. 



THE day-lily: a child's confession 



Dear God, I found a flower to-day, 



Out on the hillside where I play; 



And Oh ! it was so beautiful 



I was afraid and ran away. 



But soon I thought it would be right, 



If I should fold my two hands tight 



Behind my back, and look again. 



For so, I could not touch it then. 



And it was there and all alone ! 



So beautiful, so beautiful! 



And I should think, since 'tis your own, 



You'd plant it by your great white throne 



So it could never be alone. 



It is so beautiful, so beautiful! 



Now into my bed I'll creep 



And when I lay me down to sleep 



The little flower and me you'll keep, 



And I can come and look again 



It is so beautiful, so beautiful! Amen. 



