CVI

King Midas, walking through his realm of old,
Moved not more grandly than did we today
Across the buttercups that paved our way,
And made our path a stretch of shining gold.
The flocks of care slept soundly in their fold,
No mist of sadness on our spirits lay,
A thousand joys before us ran at play
And in the flowers with baby laughter rolled.
Strange heart of man! but yesterday I said,
'My lips on earth will never smile again;
Henceforth I wander in perpetual shade.'
Today you led me down yon golden glade--
The common product of the sun and rain--
And see, Beloved, how love has been repaid!