With Passing Years

We grow more reconciled to Nature's ways, And more responsive, with the passing years, Finding in them a solace for the fears Engendered by the thought of lessening days; There comes a sense of comradeship that stays The lonely questioning heart, and more endears The deep and changeful beauty that appears More deep and beautiful with every phase.

The brooding tenderness of earth and sky Becomes more palpable and to our need, As if some friendly consciousness were nigh — Some mother element but dimly guessed, That, gathering nearer, gently sought to lead Weary and wandering children back to rest.