For death and life, in ceaseless strife, Beat wild on this world's shore, And all our calm is in that balmâ€” Not lost but gone before.
I am listening for the voices Which I heard in days of old.
We have been friends together In sunshine and in shade.
O Twilight! Spirit that dost render birth To dim enchantments; melting heaven with earth, Leaving on craggy hills and running streams A softness like the atmosphere of dreams.
Perhaps there will come a time when... an unmarried mother will not be despised because of her motherhood... and when the right of the unborn to be born will not be denied or interfered with.