Katharine Lee Bates
“Short Day and Long Remembrance” I
Our Wellesley knew thee but a few swift years,
A maiden spirit, fresh as morning skies,
Pale beauty of the face and frank young eyes
With privacies of tenderness and tears.
Half shy, half proud amid thy clustering peers
Thou borest thee in queenly lily wise,
Yet swaying toward them in a sweet surprise
Of love and faith--prophetic atmospheres.
For summer shone, and goldenly thine heart
Bloomed into bliss, but now--oh, strange, new ache
That makes itself familiar--now thou art
A broken lily, all untimely dimmed,
A broken lily, for whose vanished sake
Our speech is faint, our eyes are overbrimmed.