Tues., 30 Morning devotions at 7-15, which we get. Dumas doing the work. She moves everything out of my room but the bed & the cabinet & Foster Danyow paints it a glossy yellow. Also he finishes the bathroom which looks fine with a coat of enamel. The hall, Ben’s room & Helen’s room, are filled with my ousted furniture with only room in the latter for me to sleep. “April,” a short poem published to-day in the Rutland Herald. Sort an accumulation of stockings. Get dinner. Grace has a letter from Mable Shields that her mother died in March.
And here is the poem:
April and I went walking
Among the daffodils,
Silent we stood together
Between the misted hills . . .
“I had thirty days,” she softly said,
A glad light in her eyes,
“I have filled them all, this is the last
And nightfall dims the skies.
Tomorrow’s sun will shine upon
My fair young sister, May.
I have left the trillium for her crown,
My pansies gem her way.
With shy sweet blossoms I have decked
the woodland dark and cool
And she will see her smiling face
In many a silvery pool.
My garlands will adorn her hair
But I shall be far away . . .
From some other clime I will beckon her . . .
My fair young sister, May!”