Double rosebuds on a stem,
Hard and scorching is the way
Like the road from Bethlehem
Leading to the requiem.
Little brown eyes so innocent,
Shining with a starry light,
Must life's lurid, hateful glare
Hurt them, dim their cheerful sight,
Take the day and give them night!
Little white soul within the brown
Fleshy case of innocence,
Must you warp and suffer long
Just for one small consequence,
All the work of Providence!
Published in The Crisis, October 1925