From the Omaha Daily Bee, September 18, 1914.
They sat upon a boulder
That looked toward the sea.
The wild waves washed the pebbly beach;
The gulls dipped gracefully
To catch the flying, silvery spray,
But nature had no power
With all her charms to draw one glance
In this most solemn hour.
They noted not the glorious sun,
The bright and cloudless skies,
But found a source of pure delight
Within each other’s eyes.
The minutes and the hours flew by,
And still they sat alone.
He held her slender fingers
Tightly clasped within his own.
The sun shone on; the waves rolled high,
Just as they did before,
But naught saw they of light or shade
Or heard the ocean’s roar.
At last he whispered, “Will you be
My love, my bride, my wife,
And walk together hand in hand
Along the road of life?”
She laid her head upon his breast,
In manner shy, demure;
Then raised her melting glance to his,
And softly murmured, “Sure.”
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