Glad Threnody

(To Bernadine)
In the dim holiness of twilight woods
I feel her spirit wander
Light as the breeze that scarcely stirs the branches
Uplifted toward Heaven.
Her soul is fragrant as the air that blows
Over the crumbling walls
Of some lost garden of wild flowers.

In the tranquillity of little streams at night
I see the quiet gladness of her smile.

In these her presence is made manifest,
And in the solemn surge of sound
When multitudes sing holy songs;
And in the pity of a youthful mother
Soothing her frightened child to sleep;
And in the tearful joy that swells
Each drop of April rain.

Because she lived, the air is sweet
And youth and love are tender.
In beauty everywhere her smiles and tears
Are visible.

^__Russell Culver

Contemporary Kansas Poetry
Helen Rhoda Hoopes
page 38
(Kansas City: Joseph D. Havens Company. 1927)