UNDERSTOOD

Out of the ruck and the roar of life

He stepped aside to rest one day,

And the flowers that grew along the way

Lifted him out of the wearisome strife

That had claimed his every waking thought

For years... and a miracle had been wrought!

“Why have I never seen the rose

Just as a rose before?” asked he.

“Always its cost was the point to me,

And not its sweetness! Do you suppose

That all these years — how long, God knows!—

I really have not understood the rose?”

Walking along the quiet street

He noted a sick and fretting child;

And he waved his hand and paused and smiled

Till the baby laughed — and its laugh was sweet.

His eyes were dim as his hand he kissed

To the child, and he whispered, “And that I have missed!”

To the end of the day that was full of care

The song in his heart was strong and new,

And the woman who loved him heard it too:

“Now that his soul is awake, I dare

Hope that he understands me,” she said;

But I fear he did n't — until he was dead!