FAITH
I heard the cannons’ monotone
A mile or two away;
But in the shell-torn town I saw
Two little boys at play.
From what was yesterday a home
I heard the cannons booming;
But in the garden I could see
A bed of pansies blooming.
Along the weary, dreary road,
Forspent and dull I trod;
But in the sky of spring I saw
The countenance of God.