A MESSAGE CAME from my youth of vanished days, saying, 1 wait for you among the quiverings of unborn May, where smiles ripen for tears and hours ache with songs unsung.'
It says, 'Come to me across the worn-out track of age, through the gates of death. For dreams fade, hopes fail, the gathered fruits of the year decay, but I am the eternal truth, and you shall meet me again and again in your voyage of life from shore to shore.'

I WAS WALKING along a path overgrown with grass, when suddenly I heard from some one behind, 'See if you know me?'
        I turned round and looked at her and said, I cannot remember your name.'
        She said, I am that first great Sorrow whom you met when you were young.'
        Her eyes looked like a morning whose dew is still in the air.
        I stood silent for some time till I said, 'Have you lost all the great burden of your tears?'
        She smiled and said nothing. I felt that her tears had had time to learn the language of smiles.
        'Once you said,' she whispered, 'that you would cherish your grief for ever.'
        I blushed and said, 'Yes, but years have passed and I forget.'
        Then I took her hand in mine and said, 'But you have changed.'
'What was sorrow once has now become peace,' she said.

THE TWO separated shores mingle their voices
in a song of unfathomed tears.