From the Rock Island Argus, July 20, 1915. By Mabel A. Bunnell.
If you could know the half of all I yearn to be to you, dear heart!
Each day that dawns I struggle to be strong and do my part,
Yet when at last the night comes softly down I humbly pray—
“Lord, grant me still to prove my tender love just one more day!”
Just one more day to strive to rise above small troubles, petty care,
That my cramped soul may break its earth-forged bonds, at last to dare.
To face the future and to gladly live, with courage new,
Loyal, and cheerful, facing toward the light for truth and you.
And yet, I feel, in spite of all the heights which I can never scale,
In spite of all the many tests in which I daily fail,
That my deep love—more deep and pure and strong than I can ever show—
You somehow, through my failure, doubts and fears, will come to know.
The dreary clouds can’t hide the sun for aye; it glimmers through,
The sweet, wet violet, struggling through dead leaves, still show its blue.
And so I trust, though oft I strike Love’s chord with clumsy hand,
You’ll feel the melody I tried to play and understand.
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