18 Bird Day Book 



COMFORTERS ARE YE ALL. 



THE blue, blue sky above me, 

 Without a drifting cloud; 

 While whispering voices murmur 



As if a gentle crowd 

 Of comforters, most blessed, 

 To me had been allowed. 



The ripple of the waters 



Of lakelet nearer by, 

 And sweet breath of the clover 



And song of w T ild bird shy; 

 While tender, restful shadows 



Upon the greensward lie. 



The buttercup is bending 



Its loving cup of gold ; 

 No flowret of the wildwood 



Its sweetness doth withhold, 

 And humming bird or hornet 



Are equal robbers bold. 



O earth most fair and gracious 



In giving gifts to me, 

 O hours of blessed loving, 



Given back in memory, 

 And unknown compensations 



In God's eternity. 



— Alice Hamilton Rich. 



