Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1913-03-21
By WINIFRED BLACK.

shines there on the cIoudiest dsv
Narcissus. slender, fearless val,
a gallant among flowers are vom
Niolets, oh, yiolets, all purple and
dewy and fragrant. After all via
lets are the dearest, for once ana
I loved gave me a knot of Them
when my heart ached. and To-, IN.
world has changed for me sine.
that day.
Look. children. the candy eggs
That's a brave one there of cboeo.
lates, brown and rich. How many
lovely pains would he give YOU do
you think, if you bit into his rich
middle?
And, oh, here's a dream egg
Have you never seen one Wen
Wen buy the fairy dream egg
though it isn't quite time for /.
yet, and then home
Hurrah, the fire is dancing On
the hearth! Off with the coats
down with the hats, and now, here
in the freight. we three will look
into the dream egg.
There, little brother. hold i, TO
your clear, gray eye-so. now. what
do you see? Oh, how beautiful, A
bridge. a garden, a little house all
covered with roses. a woman in
red cloak at the door so still. So
serene, so Sunday quiet
Now, little girl, you, too-yts. the
little house, the bridge, an enchant-
ed footpath over "a river of pure
deIight-yes, the garden, too. and
roses, oh, roses, and roses. and the
little woman in the red cloak.
All something new-a pond with
swans sailing on it-what a garden
of happiness,
Easter Time Is Hope Time.
Oh, if We could only get into
that garden, all of us together. ami
lay our faces to the roses, and set
eager feet on the enchanted path
across the beautiful arching bridge.
Perhaps the little woman would
show us the other side Of her red
cloak and tell us why she wears it
always.
And maybe we would eat in the
garden. We'd set a table there I'M
der the rose trees, close to the run
ming river, and we would have Tor
food white bread and honey in the
comb and new milk with creamy
richness in every swallow, and it
would be set on a silver tray and
eaten from plates and cups Of pur-
est crystal and there would all
ways be enough for all.
And then we would take boat
canoe of sweet smelling bark, such
as the Indian Peter Thunder used
to paddle long. long summers age.
when the wind came up from the
west and brought the smell of
sweet grass from the meadow
Away we would paddle, away
away up, up the shining river
round grassy bends, past sweet
meadows, thick with clover by an
apple orchard flush with pink glory.
See the ''pineyes' in that old-tasa-
toned dOoryard, there by the bank,
white and pink. They blow. and Oh.
how sweet the clover is. And
wasn't that a Whit of sweet brian.
Look saw a fish leap, silver he
was, and speckled. How the shad-
oWs Of the trees neck the stream
the very paddles shine in the
cleaning water.
Flow on, shining river; flow on to
dream meadows, through dark for
ests; on, on, river; we can not
follow where you beckon; we are
here, you know, outside the magic
egg, just locking in and loving you
Some day, little boy, some day
brown hair, maybe we viii learn
the password that will change us
to little creatures like the woman
in the red cloak, and then we shat!
enter the magic garden and 1--we
oh, so happily, ever after,
Easter time, flower time, fairy
time, hope time, sweet time of al.
the year-arise. my heart, ana bid
il joyous welcome.