Is She Here?
He came in victory's lambent flame
by John Hay
'Mid myriad shouts and trumpets' blare,
While the glad people's loud acclaim
Made vocal all the summer air.
But while the cannon's thunder boomed
Half-heard amid the loyal cry,
And starry banners glowed and bloomed
In beauty neath that western sky,
He from the highway turned apart
And to a quiet nook drew near,
The dearest pulses of his heart
Beating the question, "Is she here?"
The glory well and hardly earned
In civic toil and battle's fire
Was all forgotten as he turned
To meet his human heart's desire.
And light as dust lay in the scale
The favor of a flattering world
Weighed by that joy which cannot fail
In love and faith and honor furled.
Like fire within the opal's heart,
Like fragrance in the rose's breast,
A sacred joy, serene, apart,
The highest and the holiest.