Supreme Moments


REFLECTING glories of the golden day
In faces sunned by cloudless human love,
Two passed a “ sister ” on her sacred way,
Her eyes cast down, to keep her soul above.
Life on that morning had been gall to her,
While brimmed with honey for the passing twain;
One tender word she hears : it sets astir
The human current in each cloistered vein.


Into the beating storm the plighted go,
Out of the blinding light of revelry ;
Silent with awfulness of life they grow,
As a death-pageant in their path they see.
“ What, then, are mirth and love and friends ? ” they thought;
And, thinking thus, the black-stoled nun they spied :
Just for that moment, all the world seemed naught
To the great peace of this world crucified.
Charlotte Fiske Bates.