Eager and shy, as when among her peers A girl will pour her confidence, she told In voice where laughter ran a thread of gold A history all novel to our ears. Her blissful eyes oblivious of tears, With lingering touch she one by one unrolled Her bridal memories from fold on fold Of fragrant silence. Dead thse fifty years Was he with whom, young hand in hand, she went To their first home, which simple neighbor-folk Had filled with garden-bloom and forest scent; Yet still of him, and that June path they fared, Those welcoming flowers, her failing accents spoke; --Of how Love led her to a place prepared.