To feel a silent laughter ring into my mind
From she I cannot see, although I am not blind,
Yet all her words are tinkling bells swung free and light,
That leap and skip, and ring and sing with her sweet might.
For you, Clarinda, I type in my happy praise,
And though I see you not, imagination says
That your free spirit beautifies all nights, all days,
With high integrity and love of joyous truth,
Which keep your mind aligned with fountainheads of youth.
And so I write so proudly to know you just a bit—
Your clear thoughts laughing in the ink of your bright wit;
Your choice of pictures wonderful that on the earth are It!—
Yet last (not least) I praise pink hair, blue thumb,
That top the chart in my light heart with gay and playful sum!