"LADDIE"

    Lowly the soul that waits
    At the white, celestial gates,
    A threshold soul to greet
    Beloved feet.

    Down the streets that are beams of sun
    Cherubim children run;
    They welcome it from the wall;
    Their voices call.

    But the Warder saith: "Nay, this
    Is the City of Holy Bliss.
    What claim canst thou make good
    To Angelhood?"

    "Joy," answereth it from eyes
    That are amber ecstasies,
    Listening, alert, elate,
    Before the gate.

      Oh, how the frolic feet
      On lonely memory beat!
      What rapture in a run
      'Twixt snow and sun!

    "Nay, brother of the sod,
    What part hast thou in God?
    What spirit art thou of?"
    It answers: "Love,"

    Lifting its head, no less
    Cajoling a caress,
    Our winsome collie wraith,
    Than in glad faith

    The door will open wide,
    Or kind voice bid: "Abide,
    A threshold soul to greet
    The longed-for feet."

      Ah, Keeper of the Portal,
      If Love be not immortal,
      If Joy be not divine,
      What prayer is mine?
      				Katharine Lee Bates

      
   				Sigurd - Our Golden Collie