ROSAMOND C. BAILEY

By James Whitcomb Riley

Thou brave, good woman! Loved of every one;

Not only that in singing thou didst fill

Our thirsty hearts with sweetness, trill on trill,

Even as a wild bird singing in the sun —

Not only that in all thy carols none

But held some tincturing of tears to thrill

Our gentler natures, and to quicken still

Our human sympathies; but thou hast won

Our equal love and reverence because

That thou wast ever mindful of the poor,

And thou wast ever faithful to thy friends.

So, loving, serving all, thy best applause

Thy requiem — the vast throng at the door

Of the old church, with mute prayers and amens.