My sun still high was darkened. Spent with tears,
I knew the blighting kiss of early frost.
Along a pathway shadowed by my fears
I held the hand of God till I had crossed
The bridge of hope to peace, and lifted up
My eyes to see the sun. . . . And now I sing
With clearer tones; drink from a star-filled cup
While beauty rims the shadows lingering.
Above the bronzing hills of truth, where still
I garner dreams, I see the first white star
That preludes night. Beyond the last high hill
The dawn will wake new dreams. My eyes afar,
With love about me like an accolade,
I walk the silver twilight unafraid.
The Relief Society Magazine 48 (1961):713