The other was of graver type,
Dark-haired, and slight, of quiet mien;
Her spirit showing strong, and ripe
For action on whatever scene
Her duty placed her; asking not,
And caring nothing for applause;
Herself, and self-love, all forgot
In service of the Master's cause,
With such devotion and restraint
As in past ages made the saint.
"They could not tarry. But a day
We had them with us. While they staid,
We talked each fleeting hour away,
Nor any pause in labor made,
But worked the while we talked. I strove
To add such comforts to their store,
Too small at most, as anxious love
Suggested, pained to do no more:
And, added to more real needs,
My little gift of poppy seeds."
"You knew they bloomed?" I asked. "In time
A message came. She praised their hue
And said they loved that soil and clime,
And with a rich luxuriance grew
Unknown to us. They made her walk
47
