Golden rose the moon of March that still mild night;
Silver white through purple pierced the star: points bright,
Not a whisper murmured in the pines above,
Silence lived like music in a dream of love.
Thirty years have vanished like the sunset gleam,
Life and death the shadows falling on a stream;
Good and ill betrayed us—wrought us passing pains,
Peace the only perfect gift the soul attains
Birth has taught us yearning for Eternal Day;
Births to come will set us far that Shining Way;
Beauty clothes the pageant, Love preserves it whole;
All the mighty magic serves the Sun led soul
