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Show o A FACE. By Frances Crocker. I met a face today in the crowded city street, And I cannot get it out of my heart, it was so sweet. Not that the curves were faultless, nor the coloring pink and white; Not that the eyes were like the eyes of which men love to write; Not that the brow was finely shaped, or beautiful the hair; But oh, for the gentleness that dwelt like the smile of anpcls there. That tender light in the steady eyes it lingers with me yet Those calm, true eyes, full oft, I know, with tears of sorrow yet; That tender mouth, so womanly in its gentle, sweet repose; That faint pink tint in her pale thin face, Like the flush of a sweet wild rose. Pure as a lily I know she is, for into in-to my soul there came, A's I passed her by in the crowded street, a sudden leaping flame, A quickened honor for womanhood a reverence deep and strong, And my world worn heart-, with its heavy cares, grew light and full of song. And ever since then, through the passing hours, and now in the solemn night, That pure, true face, with its womanly woman-ly eyes, in making my sad life bright; And ever since then, there's a peace within, and a newfound joy complete com-plete God bless the woman I met today in the crowded city street. |
