| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900. |
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| 876. Sonnets |
| | | By Caroline Atherton Mason |
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AN OPEN SECRET
WOULD the lark sing the sweeter if he knew | |
| A thousand hearts hung breathless on his lay? | |
| And if “How fair!” the rose could hear us say, | |
| Would she, her primal fairness to outdo, | |
| Take on a richer scent, a lovelier hue? | 5 |
| Who knows or cares to answer yea or nay? | |
| O tuneful lark! sail, singing, on your way, | |
| Brimmed with excess of ecstasy; and you, | |
| Sweet rose! renew with every perfect June | |
| Your perfect blossoming! Still Nature-wise, | 10 |
| Sing, bloom, because ye must, and not for praise. | |
| If only we, who covet the fair boon | |
| Of well-earned fame, and wonder where it lies, | |
| Would read the secret in your simple ways! | |
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RECONCILIATION
IF thou wert lying cold and still and white | 15 |
| In death’s embraces, O mine enemy! | |
| I think that if I came and looked on thee, | |
| I should forgive; that something in the sight | |
| Of thy still face would conquer me, by right | |
| Of death’s sad impotence, and I should see | 20 |
| How pitiful a thing it is to be | |
| At feud with aught that ’s mortal. So tonight, | |
| My soul, unfurling her white flag of peace, | |
| Forestalling that dread hour when we may meet,— | |
| The dead face and the living,—fain would cry, | 25 |
| Across the years, “Oh, let our warfare cease! | |
| Life is so short, and hatred is not sweet; | |
| Let there be peace between us ere we die!” | |
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