To Frances

A poem by Nora Pembroke

Dear love, life has dewy mornings,
And the shadeless blaze of noon,
Flowers, that we stop to gather,
That fade from our hands so soon

Dear love, there are meetings, partings,
We have sunshine, we have shade,
There's no continuing city
That our human hands have made

We go onward, joy and sorrow
Checkers all the path we tread,
But our Father loves His children
And with loving care they're led.

Dear love, His great wisdom chooseth
The path that we both have trod,
And through storm, and calm, and sunshine,
We rest in the hand of God

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