(To Snow Longley Housh)

While piloting her silver yacht of song

To reach, at last, a quiet blue lagoon,

She bids the weary desert-hearts be strong

To find the cool oasis, flower-strewn.

The sails of sunset now serenely hold

The beauty she but glimpsed at dawn or noon.

Her singing spirit never will grow old.

Refreshed at wisdom's fount, she gives to youth

The wine of inspiration, and the gold

Minted from love and tempered fine with ruth.

A star, her compass guiding to her goal,

Her heart a chalice lifted high for truth,

Her light of faith becomes an aureole

Revealing God's own imprint on her soul.