To A Sister

A fresh young voice that sings to me     So often many a simple thing,     Should surely not unanswered be     By all that I can sing.     Dear voice, be happy every way     A thousand changing tones among,     From little child's unfinished lay     To angel's perfect song.     In dewy woods--fair, soft, and green     Like morning woods are childhood's bower--     Be like the voice of brook unseen     Among the stones and flowers;     A joyful voice though born so low,     And making all its neighbours glad;     Sweet, hidden, constant in its flow     Even when the winds are sad.     So, strengthen in a peaceful home,     And daily deeper meanings bear;     And when life's wildernesses come     Be brave and faithful there.     Try all the glorious magic range,     Worship, forgive, console, rejoice,     Until the last and sweetest change--     So live and grow, dear voice.