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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes index 6833f05..d7b82bc 100644 --- a/.gitattributes +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -1,3 +1,4 @@ -* text=auto -*.txt text -*.md text +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/6667-0.txt~ b/6667-0.txt~ deleted file mode 100644 index 3a69dfe..0000000 --- a/6667-0.txt~ +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3663 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Poems of Power, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Poems of Power - -Author: Ella Wheeler Wilcox - -Release Date: January 10, 2003 [eBook #6667] -[Most recently updated: May 18, 2021] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: David Price - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS OF POWER *** - - - - - [Picture: Book cover] - - - - - - POEMS OF POWER - - - * * * * * - - BY - ELLA WHEELER WILCOX - - [Picture: Decorative graphic] - - GAY AND HANCOCK, LTD. - 21 BEDFORD ROW - LONDON - - [_All rights reserved_] - - * * * * * - - _Published_ 1903 - _Reprinted_ 1904, 1905, 1906, 1907, 1908 - 1909 (_three times_), 1910 (_four times_), 1911, - 1912 (_twice_), 1913, 1914, 1916, 1917, 1918 - - _N.B._—_The only volumes of my poems issued_ - _with my approval in the British Empire are_ - _published by_ MESSRS. GAY & HANCOCK. - - ELLA WHEELER WILCOX. - - - - -NOTE - - -_The final word in the title of this volume refers to the DIVINE POWER in -every human being_, _the recognition of which is the secret to all -success and happiness_. _It is this idea which many of the verses -endeavour to illustrate_. - - _E. W. W._ - - - - -CONTENTS - - PAGE -The Queen’s last ride 1 -The Meeting of the Centuries 3 -Death has Crowned him a Martyr 7 -Grief 10 -Illusion 12 -Assertion 14 -I Am 16 -Wishing 18 -We two 20 -The Poet’s Theme 22 -Song of the Spirit 25 -Womanhood 27 -Morning Prayer 29 -The Voices of the People 30 -The World grows Better 32 -A Man’s Ideal 34 -The Fire Brigade 36 -The Tides 38 -When the Regiment came back 39 -Woman to Man 41 -The Traveller 43 -The Earth 45 -Now 46 -You and To-day 47 -The Reason 49 -Mission 50 -Repetition 52 -Begin the Day 53 -Words 54 -Fate and I 55 -Attainment 58 -A Plea to Peace 59 -Presumption 61 -High Noon 63 -Thought-magnets 66 -Smiles 67 -The Undiscovered Country 69 -The Universal Route 70 -Unanswered Prayers 72 -Thanksgiving 74 -Contrasts 76 -Thy Ship 77 -Life 79 -A Marine Etching 81 -“Love Thyself Last” 82 -Christmas Fancies 84 -The River 87 -Sorry 89 -Ambition’s trail 92 -Uncontrolled 93 -Will 94 -To an Astrologer 96 -The Tendril’s Fate 98 -The Times 100 -The Question 102 -Sorrow’s Uses 103 -If 104 -Which are you? 106 -The Creed to be 108 -Inspiration 110 -The Wish 112 -Three Friends 113 -You never can tell 115 -Here and now 117 -Unconquered 119 -All that love asks 120 -“Does it pay?” 122 -Sestina 123 -The Optimist 126 -The Pessimist 127 -An Inspiration 128 -Life’s Harmonies 130 -Preparation 131 -Gethsemane 133 -God’s Measure 135 -Noblesse Oblige 136 -Through Tears 137 -What we Need 139 -Plea to Science 141 -Respite 143 -Song 145 -My Ships 147 -Her Love 149 -If 151 -Love’s burial 153 -“Love is enough” 155 -Life is a Privilege 157 -Insight 159 -A Woman’s Answer 162 -The World’s Need 164 - - - - -THE QUEEN’S LAST RIDE - - - (Written on the day of Queen Victoria’s funeral) - - The Queen is taking a drive to-day, - They have hung with purple the carriage-way, - They have dressed with purple the royal track - Where the Queen goes forth and never comes back. - - Let no man labour as she goes by - On her last appearance to mortal eye: - With heads uncovered let all men wait - For the Queen to pass, in her regal state. - - Army and Navy shall lead the way - For that wonderful coach of the Queen’s to-day. - Kings and Princes and Lords of the land - Shall ride behind her, a humble band; - And over the city and over the world - Shall the Flags of all Nations be half-mast-furled, - For the silent lady of royal birth - Who is riding away from the Courts of earth, - Riding away from the world’s unrest - To a mystical goal, on a secret quest. - - Though in royal splendour she drives through town, - Her robes are simple, she wears no crown: - And yet she wears one, for, widowed no more, - She is crowned with the love that has gone before, - And crowned with the love she has left behind - In the hidden depths of each mourner’s mind. - - Bow low your heads—lift your hearts on high— - The Queen in silence is driving by! - - - - -THE MEETING OF THE CENTURIES - - - A curious vision on mine eyes unfurled - In the deep night. I saw, or seemed to see, - Two Centuries meet, and sit down vis-à-vis - Across the great round table of the world: - One with suggested sorrows in his mien, - And on his brow the furrowed lines of thought; - And one whose glad expectant presence brought - A glow and radiance from the realms unseen. - - Hand clasped with hand, in silence for a space - The Centuries sat; the sad old eyes of one - (As grave paternal eyes regard a son) - Gazing upon that other eager face. - And then a voice, as cadenceless and gray - As the sea’s monody in winter time, - Mingled with tones melodious, as the chime - Of bird choirs, singing in the dawns of May. - - THE OLD CENTURY SPEAKS - - By you, Hope stands. With me, Experience walks. - Like a fair jewel in a faded box, - In my tear-rusted heart, sweet Pity lies. - For all the dreams that look forth from your eyes, - And those bright-hued ambitions, which I know - Must fall like leaves and perish, in Time’s snow, - (Even as my soul’s garden stands bereft,) - I give you pity! ’tis the one gift left. - - THE NEW CENTURY - - Nay, nay, good friend! not pity, but Godspeed, - Here in the morning of my life I need. - Counsel, and not condolence; smiles, not tears, - To guide me through the channels of the years. - Oh, I am blinded by the blaze of light - That shines upon me from the Infinite. - Blurred is my vision by the close approach - To unseen shores, whereon the times encroach. - - THE OLD CENTURY - - Illusion, all illusion. List and hear - The Godless cannons, booming far and near. - Flaunting the flag of Unbelief, with Greed - For pilot, lo! the pirate age in speed - Bears on to ruin. War’s most hideous crimes - Besmirch the record of these modern times. - Degenerate is the world I leave to you,— - My happiest speech to earth will be—adieu. - - THE NEW CENTURY - - You speak as one too weary to be just. - I hear the guns—I see the greed and lust. - The death throes of a giant evil fill - The air with riot and confusion. Ill - Ofttimes makes fallow ground for Good; and Wrong - Builds Right’s foundation, when it grows too strong. - Pregnant with promise is the hour, and grand - The trust you leave in my all-willing hand. - - THE OLD CENTURY - - As one who throws a flickering taper’s ray - To light departing feet, my shadowed way - You brighten with your faith. Faith makes the man - Alas, that my poor foolish age outran - Its early trust in God! The death of art - And progress follows, when the world’s hard heart - Casts out religion. ’Tis the human brain - Men worship now, and heaven, to them, means—gain. - - THE NEW CENTURY - - Faith is not dead, tho’ priest and creed may pass, - For thought has leavened the whole unthinking mass, - And man looks now to find the God within. - We shall talk more of love, and less of sin, - In this new era. We are drawing near - Unatlassed boundaries of a larger sphere. - With awe, I wait, till Science leads us on, - Into the full effulgence of its dawn. - - - - -DEATH HAS CROWNED HIM A MARTYR - - -(Written on the day of President McKinley’s death) - - In the midst of sunny waters, lo! the mighty Ship of State - Staggers, bruised and torn and wounded by a derelict of fate, - One that drifted from its moorings in the anchorage of hate. - - On the deck our noble Pilot, in the glory of his prime, - Lies in woe-impelling silence, dead before his hour or time, - Victim of a mind self-centred in a Godless fool of crime. - - One of earth’s dissension-breeders, one of Hate’s unreasoning tools, - In the annals of the ages, when the world’s hot anger cools, - He who sought for Crime’s distinction shall be known as Chief of - Fools. - - In the annals of the ages, he who had no thought of fame - (Keeping on the path of duty, caring not for praise or blame), - Close beside the deathless Lincoln, writ in light, will shine his - name. - - Youth proclaimed him as a hero; time, a statesman; love, a man; - Death has crowned him as a martyr,—so from goal to goal he ran, - Knowing all the sum of glory that a human life may span. - - He was chosen by the people; not an accident of birth - Made him ruler of a nation, but his own intrinsic worth. - Fools may govern over kingdoms—not republics of the earth. - - He has raised the lovers’ standard by his loyalty and faith, - He has shown how virile manhood may keep free from scandal’s breath. - He has gazed, with trust unshaken, in the awful eyes of Death. - - In the mighty march of progress he has sought to do his best. - Let his enemies be silent, as we lay him down to rest, - And may God assuage the anguish of one suffering woman’s breast. - - - - -GRIEF - - - As the funeral train with its honoured dead - On its mournful way went sweeping, - While a sorrowful nation bowed its head - And the whole world joined in weeping, - I thought, as I looked on the solemn sight, - Of the one fond heart despairing, - And I said to myself, as in truth I might, - “How sad must be this _sharing_.” - - To share the living with even Fame, - For a heart that is only human, - Is hard, when Glory asserts her claim - Like a bold, insistent woman; - Yet a great, grand passion can put aside - Or stay each selfish emotion, - And watch, with a pleasure that springs from pride, - Its rival—the world’s devotion. - - But Death should render to love its own, - And my heart bowed down and sorrowed - For the stricken woman who wept alone - While even her _dead_ was borrowed; - Borrowed from her, the bride—the wife— - For the world’s last martial honour, - As she sat in the gloom of her darkened life, - With her widow’s grief fresh upon her. - - He had shed the glory of Love and Fame - In a golden halo about her; - She had shared his triumphs and worn his name: - But, alas! he had died without her. - He had wandered in many a distant realm, - And never had left her behind him, - But now, with a spectral shape at the helm, - He had sailed where she could not find him. - - It was only a thought, that came that day - In the midst of the muffled drumming - And funeral music and sad display, - That I knew was right and becoming - Only a thought as the mourning train - Moved, column after column, - Bearing the dead to the burial plain - With a reverence grand as solemn. - - - - -ILLUSION - - - God and I in space alone - And nobody else in view. - “And where are the people, O Lord,” I said, - “The earth below, and the sky o’er head, - And the dead whom once I knew?” - - “That was a dream,” God smiled and said— - “A dream that seemed to be true. - There were no people, living or dead, - There was no earth, and no sky o’erhead; - There was only Myself—in you.” - - “Why do I feel no fear,” I asked, - “Meeting You here this way? - For I have sinned I know full well? - And is there heaven, and is there hell, - And is this the judgment day?” - - “Say, those were but dreams,” the Great God said, - “Dreams, that have ceased to be. - There are no such things as fear or sin, - There is no you—you never have been— - There is nothing at all but _Me_.” - - - - -ASSERTION - - - I am serenity. Though passions beat - Like mighty billows on my helpless heart, - I know beyond them lies the perfect sweet - Serenity, which patience can impart. - And when wild tempests in my bosom rage, - “Peace, peace,” I cry, “it is my heritage.” - - I am good health. Though fevers rack my brain - And rude disorders mutilate my strength, - A perfect restoration after pain, - I know shall be my recompense at length. - And so through grievous day and sleepless night, - “Health, health,” I cry, “it is my own by right.” - - I am success. Though hungry, cold, ill-clad, - I wander for awhile, I smile and say, - “It is but for a time—I shall be glad - To-morrow, for good fortune comes my way. - God is my father, He has wealth untold, - His wealth is mine, health, happiness, and gold.” - - - - -I AM - - - I know not whence I came, - I know not whither I go; - But the fact stands clear that I am here - In this world of pleasure and woe. - And out of the mist and murk - Another truth shines plain— - It is my power each day and hour - To add to its joy or its pain. - - I know that the earth exists, - It is none of my business why; - I cannot find out what it’s all about, - I would but waste time to try. - My life is a brief, brief thing, - I am here for a little space, - And while I stay I would like, if I may, - To brighten and better the place. - - The trouble, I think, with us all - Is the lack of a high conceit. - If each man thought he was sent to this spot - To make it a bit more sweet, - How soon we could gladden the world, - How easily right all wrong, - If nobody shirked, and each one worked - To help his fellows along! - - Cease wondering why you came— - Stop looking for faults and flaws; - Rise up to-day in your pride and say, - “I am part of the First Great Cause! - However full the world, - There is room for an earnest man. - It had need of me, or I would not be— - I am here to strengthen the plan.” - - - - -WISHING - - - Do you wish the world were better? - Let me tell you what to do: - Set a watch upon your actions, - Keep them always straight and true; - Rid your mind of selfish motives; - Let your thoughts be clean and high. - You can make a little Eden - Of the sphere you occupy. - - Do you wish the world were wiser? - Well, suppose you make a start, - By accumulating wisdom - In the scrapbook of your heart: - Do not waste one page on folly; - Live to learn, and learn to live. - If you want to give men knowledge - You must get it, ere you give. - - Do you wish the world were happy? - Then remember day by day - Just to scatter seeds of kindness - As you pass along the way; - For the pleasures of the many - May be ofttimes traced to one, - As the hand that plants an acorn - Shelters armies from the sun. - - - - -WE TWO - - - We two make home of any place we go; - We two find joy in any kind of weather; - Or if the earth is clothed in bloom or snow, - If summer days invite, or bleak winds blow, - What matters it if we two are together? - We two, we two, we make our world, our weather. - - We two make banquets of the plainest fare; - In every cup we find the thrill of pleasure; - We hide with wreaths the furrowed brow of care, - And win to smiles the set lips of despair. - For us life always moves with lilting measure; - We two, we two, we make our world, our pleasure. - - We two find youth renewed with every dawn; - Each day holds something of an unknown glory. - We waste no thought on grief or pleasure gone; - Tricked out like hope, time leads us on and on, - And thrums upon his harp new song or story. - We two, we two, we find the paths of glory. - - We two make heaven here on this little earth; - We do not need to wait for realms eternal. - We know the use of tears, know sorrow’s worth, - And pain for us is always love’s rebirth. - Our paths lead closely by the paths supernal; - We two, we two, we live in love eternal. - - - - -THE POET’S THEME - - - What is the explanation of the strange silence of American poets - concerning American triumphs on sea and land? - - _Literary Digest_. - - Why should the poet of these pregnant times - Be asked to sing of war’s unholy crimes? - - To laud and eulogize the trade which thrives - On horrid holocausts of human lives? - - Man was a fighting beast when earth was young, - And war the only theme when Homer sung. - - ’Twixt might and might the equal contest lay, - Not so the battles of our modern day. - - Too often now the conquering hero struts - A Gulliver among the Liliputs. - - Success no longer rests on skill or fate, - But on the movements of a syndicate. - - Of old men fought and deemed it right and just. - To-day the warrior fights because he must, - - And in his secret soul feels shame because - He desecrates the higher manhood’s laws - - Oh! there are worthier themes for poet’s pen - In this great hour, than bloody deeds of men - - Or triumphs of one hero (though he be - Deserving song for his humility): - - The rights of many—not the worth of one; - The coming issues—not the battle done; - - The awful opulence, and awful need; - The rise of brotherhood—the fall of greed, - - The soul of man replete with God’s own force, - The call “to heights,” and not the cry “to horse,”— - - Are there not better themes in this great age - For pen of poet, or for voice of sage - - Than those old tales of killing? Song is dumb - Only that greater song in time may come. - - When comes the bard, he whom the world waits for, - He will not sing of War. - - - - -SONG OF THE SPIRIT - - - All the aim of life is just - Getting back to God. - Spirit casting off its dust, - Getting back to God. - Every grief we have to bear - Disappointment, cross, despair - Each is but another stair - Climbing back to God. - - Step by step and mile by mile— - Getting back to God; - Nothing else is worth the while— - Getting back to God. - Light and shadow fill each day - Joys and sorrows pass away, - Smile at all, and smiling, say, - Getting back to God. - - Do not wear a mournful face - Getting back to God; - Scatter sunshine on the place - Going back to God; - Take what pleasure you can find, - But where’er your paths may wind. - Keep the purpose well in mind,— - Getting back to God. - - - - -WOMANHOOD - - - She must be honest, both in thought and deed, - Of generous impulse, and above all greed; - Not seeking praise, or place, or power, or pelf, - But life’s best blessings for her higher self, - Which means the best for all. - She must have faith, - To make good friends of Trouble, Pain, and Death, - And understand their message. - She should be - As redolent with tender sympathy - As is a rose with fragrance. - Cheerfulness - Should be her mantle, even though her dress - May be of Sorrow’s weaving. - On her face - A loyal nature leaves its seal of grace, - And chastity is in her atmosphere. - Not that chill chastity which seems austere - (Like untrod snow-peaks, lovely to behold - Till once attained—then barren, loveless, cold); - But the white flame that feeds upon the soul - And lights the pathway to a peaceful goal. - A sense of humour, and a touch of mirth, - To brighten up the shadowy spots of earth; - And pride that passes evil—choosing good. - All these unite in perfect womanhood. - - - - -MORNING PRAYER - - - Let me to-day do something that shall take - A little sadness from the world’s vast store, - And may I be so favoured as to make - Of joy’s too scanty sum a little more - Let me not hurt, by any selfish deed - Or thoughtless word, the heart of foe or friend; - Nor would I pass, unseeing, worthy need, - Or sin by silence when I should defend. - However meagre be my worldly wealth, - Let me give something that shall aid my kind— - A word of courage, or a thought of health, - Dropped as I pass for troubled hearts to find. - Let me to-night look back across the span - ’Twixt dawn and dark, and to my conscience say— - Because of some good act to beast or man— - “The world is better that I lived to-day.” - - - - -THE VOICES OF THE PEOPLE - - - Oh! I hear the people calling through the day time and the night time, - They are calling, they are crying for the coming of the right time. - It behooves you, men and women, it behooves you to be heeding, - For there lurks a note of menace underneath their plaintive pleading. - - Let the land usurpers listen, let the greedy-hearted ponder, - On the meaning of the murmur, rising here and swelling yonder, - Swelling louder, waxing stronger, like a storm-fed stream that courses - Through the valleys, down abysses, growing, gaining with new forces. - - Day by day the river widens, that great river of opinion, - And its torrent beats and plunges at the base of greed’s dominion. - Though you dam it by oppression and fling golden bridges o’er it, - Yet the day and hour advances when in fright you’ll flee before it. - - Yes, I hear the people calling, through the night time and the day - time, - Wretched toilers in life’s autumn, weary young ones in life’s May - time— - They are crying, they are calling for their share of work and - pleasure; - You are heaping high your coffers while you give them scanty measure,— - You have stolen God’s wide acres, just to glut your swollen purses— - Oh! restore them to His children ere their pleading turns to curses. - - - - -THE WORLD GROWS BETTER - - - Oh! the earth is full of sinning - And of trouble and of woe, - But the devil makes an inning - Every time we say it’s so. - And the way to set him scowling, - And to put him back a pace, - Is to stop this stupid growling, - And to look things in the face. - - If you glance at history’s pages, - In all lands and eras known, - You will find the buried ages - Far more wicked than our own. - As you scan each word and letter. - You will realise it more, - That the world to-day is better - Than it ever was before. - - There is much that needs amending - In the present time, no doubt; - There is right that needs amending, - There is wrong needs crushing out. - And we hear the groans and curses - Of the poor who starve and die, - While the men with swollen purses - In the place of hearts go by. - - But in spite of all the trouble - That obscures the sun to-day, - Just remember it was double - In the ages passed away. - And those wrongs shall all be righted, - Good shall dominate the land, - For the darkness now is lighted - By the torch in Science’s hand. - - Forth from little motes in Chaos, - We have come to what we are; - And no evil force can stay us— - We shall mount from star to star, - We shall break each bond and fetter - That has bound us heretofore; - And the earth is surely better - Than it ever was before. - - - - -A MAN’S IDEAL - - - A lovely little keeper of the home, - Absorbed in menu books, yet erudite - When I need counsel; quick at repartee - And slow to anger. Modest as a flower, - Yet scintillant and radiant as a star. - Unmercenary in her mould of mind, - While opulent and dainty in her tastes. - A nature generous and free, albeit - The incarnation of economy. - She must be chaste as proud Diana was, - Yet warm as Venus. To all others cold - As some white glacier glittering in the sun; - To me as ardent as the sensuous rose - That yields its sweetness to the burrowing bee - All ignorant of evil in the world, - And innocent as any cloistered nun, - Yet wise as Phryne in the arts of love - When I come thirsting to her nectared lips. - Good as the best, and tempting as the worst, - A saint, a siren, and a paradox. - - - - -THE FIRE BRIGADE - - - Hark! high o’er the rattle and clamour and clatter - Of traffic-filled streets, do you hear that loud noise? - And pushing and rushing to see what’s the matter, - Like herds of wild cattle, go pell-mell the boys. - - There’s a fire in the city! the engines are coming! - The bold bells are clanging, “Make way in the street!” - The wheels of the hose-cart are spinning and humming - In time to the music of galloping feet. - - Make way there! make way there! the horses are flying, - The sparks from their swift hoofs shoot higher and higher, - The crowds are increasing—the gamins are crying: - “Hooray, boys!” “Hooray, boys!” “Come on to the fire!” - - With clanging and banging and clatter and rattle - The long ladders follow the engine and hose. - The men are all ready to dash into battle; - But will they come out again? God only knows. - - At windows and doorways crowd questioning faces; - There’s something about it that quickens one’s breath. - How proudly the brave fellows sit in their places— - And speed to the conflict that may be their death! - - Still faster and faster and faster and faster - The grand horses thunder and leap on their way - The red foe is yonder, and may prove the master; - Turn out there, bold traffic—turn out there, I say! - - For once the loud truckman knows oaths will not matter - And reins in his horses and yields to his fate. - The engines are coming! let pleasure-crowds scatter, - Let street car and truckman and mail waggon wait. - - They speed like a comet—they pass in a minute; - The boys follow on like a tail to a kite; - The commonplace street has but traffic now in it— - The great fire engines have swept out of sight. - - - - -THE TIDES - - - Be careful what rubbish you toss in the tide. - On outgoing billows it drifts from your sight, - But back on the incoming waves it may ride - And land at your threshold again before night. - Be careful what rubbish you toss in the tide. - - Be careful what follies you toss in life’s sea. - On bright dancing billows they drift far away, - But back on the Nemesis tides they may be - Thrown down at your threshold an unwelcome day - Be careful what follies you toss in youth’s sea. - - - - -WHEN THE REGIMENT CAME BACK - - - All the uniforms were blue, all the swords were bright and new, - When the regiment went marching down the street, - All the men were hale and strong as they proudly moved along, - Through the cheers that drowned the music of their feet. - Oh the music of the feet keeping time to drums that beat, - Oh the splendour and the glitter of the sight, - As with swords and rifles new and in uniforms of blue - The regiment went marching to the fight! - - When the regiment came back all the guns and swords were black - And the uniforms had faded out to gray, - And the faces of the men who marched through that street again - Seemed like faces of the dead who lose their way. - For the dead who lose their way cannot look more wan and gray. - Oh the sorrow and the pity of the sight, - Oh the weary lagging feet out of step with drums that beat, - As the regiment comes marching from the fight. - - - - -WOMAN TO MAN - - - Woman is man’s enemy, rival, and competitor.—JOHN J. INGALLS. - - You do but jest, sir, and you jest not well, - How could the hand be enemy of the arm, - Or seed and sod be rivals! How could light - Feel jealousy of heat, plant of the leaf, - Or competition dwell ’twixt lip and smile? - Are we not part and parcel of yourselves? - Like strands in one great braid we entertwine - And make the perfect whole. You could not be, - Unless we gave you birth; we are the soil - From which you sprang, yet sterile were that soil - Save as you planted. (Though in the Book we read - One woman bore a child with no man’s aid, - We find no record of a man-child born - Without the aid of woman! Fatherhood - Is but a small achievement at the best, - While motherhood comprises heaven and hell.) - This ever-growing argument of sex - Is most unseemly, and devoid of sense. - Why waste more time in controversy, when - There is not time enough for all of love, - Our rightful occupation in this life? - Why prate of our defects, of where we fail, - When just the story of our worth would need - Eternity for telling, and our best - Development comes ever through your praise, - As through our praise you reach your highest self? - Oh! had you not been miser of your praise - And let our virtues be their own reward, - The old-established order of the world - Would never have been changed. Small blame is ours - For this unsexing of ourselves, and worse. - Effeminising of the male. We were - Content, sir, till you starved us, heart and brain. - All we have done, or wise, or otherwise, - Traced to the root, was done for love of you. - Let us taboo all vain comparisons, - And go forth as God meant us, hand in hand, - Companions, mates, and comrades evermore; - Two parts of one divinely ordained whole. - - - - -THE TRAVELLER - - -Reply to Rudyard Kipling’s “He travels the fastest who travels alone.” - - Who travels alone with his eyes on the heights, - Though he laughs in the day time oft weeps in the nights; - - For courage goes down at the set of the sun, - When the toil of the journey is all borne by one. - - He speeds but to grief though full gaily he ride - Who travels alone without love at his side. - - Who travels alone without lover or friend - But hurries from nothing, to naught at the end. - - Though great be his winnings and high be his goal, - He is bankrupt in wisdom and beggared in soul. - - Life’s one gift of value to him is denied - Who travels alone without love at his side. - - It is easy enough in this world to make haste - If one live for that purpose—but think of the waste; - - For life is a poem to leisurely read, - And the joy of the journey lies not in its speed. - - Oh! vain his achievement and petty his pride - Who travels alone without love at his side. - - - - -THE EARTH - - - The earth is yours and mine, - Our God’s bequest. - That testament divine - Who dare contest? - - Usurpers of the earth, - We claim our share. - We are of royal birth. - Beware! beware! - - Unloose the hand of greed - From God’s fair land, - We claim but what we need— - That, we demand. - - - - -NOW - - - I leave with God to-morrow’s where and how, - And do concern myself but with the Now, - That little word, though half the future’s length, - Well used, holds twice its meaning and its strength. - - Like one blindfolded groping out his way, - I will not try to touch beyond to-day. - Since all the future is concealed from sight - I need but strive to make the next step right. - - That done, the next, and so on, till I find - Perchance some day I am no longer blind, - And looking up, behold a radiant Friend - Who says, “Rest, now, for you have reached the end.” - - - - -YOU AND TO-DAY - - - With every rising of the sun - Think of your life as just begun. - - The past has shrived and buried deep - All yesterdays—there let them sleep, - - Nor seek to summon back one ghost - Of that innumerable host. - - Concern yourself with but to-day; - Woo it and teach it to obey - - Your wish and will. Since time began - To-day has been the friend of man. - - But in his blindness and his sorrow - He looks to yesterday and to-morrow. - - You and to-day! a soul sublime - And the great pregnant hour of time. - - With God between to bind the train, - Go forth, I say—attain—attain. - - - - -THE REASON - - - Do you know what moves the tides - As they swing from low to high? - ’Tis the love, love, love, - Of the moon within the sky. - Oh! they follow where she guides, - Do the faithful-hearted tides. - - Do you know what moves the earth - Out of winter into spring? - ’Tis the love, love, love, - Of the sun, the mighty king. - Oh the rapture that finds birth - In the kiss of sun and earth! - - Do you know what makes sweet songs - Ring for me above earth’s strife? - ’Tis the love, love, love, - That you bring into my life, - Oh the glory of the songs - In the heart where love belongs! - - - - -MISSION - - - If you are sighing for a lofty work, - If great ambitions dominate your mind, - Just watch yourself and see you do not shirk - The common little ways of being kind. - - If you are dreaming of a future goal, - When, crowned with glory, men shall own your power, - Be careful that you let no struggling soul - Go by unaided in the present hour. - - If you are moved to pity for the earth, - And long to aid it, do not look so high, - You pass some poor, dumb creature faint with thirst— - All life is equal in the eternal eye. - - If you would help to make the wrong things right, - Begin at home: there lies a lifetime’s toil. - Weed your own garden fair for all men’s sight, - Before you plan to till another’s soil. - - God chooses His own leaders in the world, - And from the rest He asks but willing hands. - As mighty mountains into place are hurled, - While patient tides may only shape the sands. - - - - -REPETITION - - - Over and over and over - These truths I will weave in song— - That God’s great plan needs you and me, - That will is greater than destiny, - And that love moves the world along. - - However mankind may doubt it, - It shall listen and hear my creed— - That God may ever be found within, - That the worship of self is the only sin, - And the only devil is greed. - - Over and over and over - These truths I will say and sing, - That love is mightier far than hate, - That a man’s own thought is a man’s own fate, - And that life is a goodly thing. - - - - -BEGIN THE DAY - - - Begin each morning with a talk to God, - And ask for your divine inheritance - Of usefulness, contentment, and success. - Resign all fear, all doubt, and all despair. - The stars doubt not, and they are undismayed, - Though whirled through space for countless centuries, - And told not why or wherefore: and the sea - With everlasting ebb and flow obeys, - And leaves the purpose with the unseen Cause. - The star sheds radiance on a million worlds, - The sea is prodigal with waves, and yet - No lustre from the star is lost, and not - One drop is missing from the ocean tides. - Oh! brother to the star and sea, know all - God’s opulence is held in trust for those - Who wait serenely and who work in faith. - - - - -WORDS - - - Words are great forces in the realm of life: - Be careful of their use. Who talks of hate, - Of poverty, of sickness, but sets rife - These very elements to mar his fate. - - When love, health, happiness, and plenty hear - Their names repeated over day by day, - They wing their way like answering fairies near, - Then nestle down within our homes to stay. - - Who talks of evil conjures into shape - The formless thing and gives it life and scope. - This is the law: then let no word escape - That does not breathe of everlasting hope. - - - - -FATE AND I - - - Wise men tell me thou, O Fate, - Art invincible and great. - - Well, I own thy prowess; still - Dare I flout thee with my will - - Thou canst shatter in a span - All the earthly pride of man. - - Outward things thou canst control; - But stand back—I rule my soul! - - Death? ’Tis such a little thing— - Scarcely worth the mentioning. - - What has death to do with me, - Save to set my spirit free? - - Something in me dwells, O Fate, - That can rise and dominate - - Loss, and sorrow, and disaster,— - How, then, Fate, art thou my master? - - In the great primeval morn - My immortal will was born, - - Part of that stupendous Cause - Which conceived the Solar Laws, - - Lit the suns and filled the seas, - Royalest of pedigrees. - - That great Cause was Love, the Source - Who most loves has most of Force. - - He who harbours Hate one hour - Saps the soul of Peace and Power. - - He who will not hate his foe - Need not dread life’s hardest blow. - - In the realm of brotherhood - Wishing no man aught but good, - - Naught but good can come to me— - This is Love’s supreme decree. - - Since I bar my door to Hate, - What have I to fear, O Fate? - - Since I fear not—Fate I vow, - I the ruler am, not thou! - - - - -ATTAINMENT - - - Use all your hidden forces. Do not miss - The purpose of this life, and do not wait - For circumstance to mould or change your fate; - In your own self lies Destiny. Let this - Vast truth cast out all fear, all prejudice, - All hesitation. Know that you are great, - Great with divinity. So dominate - Environment, and enter into bliss. - Love largely and hate nothing. Hold no aim - That does not chord with universal good. - Hear what the voices of the Silence say— - All joys are yours if you put forth your claim. - Once let the spiritual laws be understood, - Material things must answer and obey. - - - - -A PLEA TO PEACE - - - When mighty issues loom before us, all - The petty great men of the day seem small, - Like pigmies standing in a blaze of light - Before some grim majestic mountain-height. - War, with its bloody and impartial hand, - Reveals the hidden weakness of a land, - Uncrowns the heroes trusting Peace has made - Of men whose honour is a thing of trade, - And turns the searchlight full on many a place - Where proud conventions long have masked disgrace. - O lovely Peace! as thou art fair be wise. - Demand great men, and great men shall arise - To do thy bidding. Even as warriors come, - Swift at the call of bugle and of drum, - So at the voice of Peace, imperative - As bugle’s call, shall heroes spring to live - For country and for thee. In every land, - In every age, men are what times demand. - Demand the best, O Peace, and teach thy sons - They need not rush in front of death-charged guns - With murder in their hearts to prove their worth. - The grandest heroes who have graced the earth - Were love-filled souls who did not seek the fray, - But chose the safe, hard, high, and lonely way - Of selfless labour for a suffering world. - Beneath our glorious flag again unfurled - In victory such heroes wait to be - Called into bloodless action, Peace, by thee. - Be thou insistent in thy stern demand, - And wise, great men shall rise up in the land. - - - - -PRESUMPTION - - - Whenever I am prone to doubt or wonder— - I check myself, and say, “That mighty One - Who made the solar system cannot blunder— - And for the best all things are being done.” - Who set the stars on their eternal courses - Has fashioned this strange earth by some sure plan. - Bow low, bow low to those majestic forces, - Nor dare to doubt their wisdom, puny man. - - You cannot put one little star in motion, - You cannot shape one single forest leaf, - Nor fling a mountain up, nor sink an ocean, - Presumptuous pigmy, large with unbelief. - You cannot bring one dawn of regal splendour, - Nor bid the day to shadowy twilight fall, - Nor send the pale moon forth with radiance tender— - And dare you doubt the One who has done all? - - “So much is wrong, there is such pain—such sinning.” - Yet look again—behold how much is right! - And He who formed the world from its beginning - Knows how to guide it upward to the light. - Your task, O man, is not to carp and cavil - At God’s achievements, but with purpose strong - To cling to good, and turn away from evil. - That is the way to help the world along. - - - - -HIGH NOON - - - Time’s finger on the dial of my life - Points to high noon! and yet the half-spent day - Leaves less than half remaining, for the dark, - Bleak shadows of the grave engulf the end. - To those who burn the candle to the stick, - The sputtering socket yields but little light. - Long life is sadder than an early death. - We cannot count on ravelled threads of age - Whereof to weave a fabric. We must use - The warp and woof the ready present yields - And toil while daylight lasts. When I bethink - How brief the past, the future, still more brief - Calls on to action, action! Not for me - Is time for retrospection or for dreams, - Not time for self-laudation or remorse. - Have I done nobly? Then I must not let - Dead yesterday unborn to-morrow shame. - Have I done wrong? Well, let the bitter taste - Of fruit that turned to ashes on my lip - Be my reminder in temptation’s hour, - And keep me silent when I would condemn. - Sometimes it takes the acid of a sin - To cleanse the clouded windows of our souls - So pity may shine through them. - - Looking back, - My faults and errors seem like stepping-stones - That led the way to knowledge of the truth - And made me value virtue; sorrows shine - In rainbow colours o’er the gulf of years, - Where lie forgotten pleasures. - - Looking forth, - Out to the western sky still bright with noon, - I feel well spurred and booted for the strife - That ends not till Nirvana is attained. - - Battling with fate, with men, and with myself, - Up the steep summit of my life’s forenoon, - Three things I learned, three things of precious worth, - To guide and help me down the western slope. - I have learned how to pray, and toil, and save: - To pray for courage to receive what comes, - Knowing what comes to be divinely sent; - To toil for universal good, since thus - And only thus can good come unto me; - To save, by giving whatsoe’er I have - To those who have not—this alone is gain. - - - - -THOUGHT-MAGNETS - - - With each strong thought, with every earnest longing - For aught thou deemest needful to thy soul, - Invisible vast forces are set thronging - Between thee and that goal - - ’Tis only when some hidden weakness alters - And changes thy desire, or makes it less, - That this mysterious army ever falters - Or stops short of success. - - Thought is a magnet; and the longed-for pleasure, - Or boon, or aim, or object, is the steel; - And its attainment hangs but on the measure - Of what thy soul can feel. - - - - -SMILES - - - Smile a little, smile a little, - As you go along, - Not alone when life is pleasant, - But when things go wrong. - Care delights to see you frowning, - Loves to hear you sigh; - Turn a smiling face upon her— - Quick the dame will fly. - - Smile a little, smile a little, - All along the road; - Every life must have its burden, - Every heart its load. - Why sit down in gloom and darkness - With your grief to sup? - As you drink Fate’s bitter tonic, - Smile across the cup. - - Smile upon the troubled pilgrims - Whom you pass and meet; - Frowns are thorns, and smiles are blossoms - Oft for weary feet. - Do not make the way seem harder - By a sullen face; - Smile a little, smile a little, - Brighten up the place. - - Smile upon your undone labour; - Not for one who grieves - O’er his task waits wealth or glory; - He who smiles achieves. - Though you meet with loss and sorrow - In the passing years, - Smile a little, smile a little, - Even through your tears. - - - - -THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY - - - Man has explored all countries and all lands, - And made his own the secrets of each clime. - Now, ere the world has fully reached its prime, - The oval earth lies compassed with steel bands, - The seas are slaves to ships that touch all strands, - And even the haughty elements, sublime - And bold, yield him their secrets for all time, - And speed like lackeys forth at his commands. - - Still, though he search from shore to distant shore, - And no strange realms, no unlocated plains - Are left for his attainment and control, - Yet is there one more kingdom to explore. - Go, know thyself, O man! there yet remains - The undiscovered country of thy soul! - - - - -THE UNIVERSAL ROUTE - - - As we journey along, with a laugh and a song, - We see, on youth’s flower-decked slope, - Like a beacon of light, shining fair on the sight, - The beautiful Station of Hope. - - But the wheels of old Time roll along as we climb, - And our youth speeds away on the years; - And with hearts that are numb with life’s sorrows we come - To the mist-covered Station of Tears. - - Still onward we pass, where the milestones, alas! - Are the tombs of our dead, to the West, - Where glitters and gleams, in the dying sunbeams, - The sweet, silent Station of Rest. - - All rest is but change, and no grave can estrange - The soul from its Parent above; - And, scorning the rod, it soars back to its God, - To the limitless City of Love. - - - - -UNANSWERED PRAYERS - - - Like some schoolmaster, kind in being stern, - Who hears the children crying o’er their slates - And calling, “Help me, master!” yet helps not, - Since in his silence and refusal lies - Their self-development, so God abides - Unheeding many prayers. He is not deaf - To any cry sent up from earnest hearts; - He hears and strengthens when He must deny. - He sees us weeping over life’s hard sums; - But should He give the key and dry our tears, - What would it profit us when school were done - And not one lesson mastered? - - What a world - Were this if all our prayers were answered. Not - In famed Pandora’s box were such vast ills - As lie in human hearts. Should our desires, - Voiced one by one in prayer, ascend to God - And come back as events shaped to our wish, - What chaos would result! - - In my fierce youth - I sighed out breath enough to move a fleet, - Voicing wild prayers to heaven for fancied boons - Which were denied; and that denial bends - My knee to prayers of gratitude each day - Of my maturer years. Yet from those prayers - I rose alway regirded for the strife - And conscious of new strength. Pray on, sad heart, - That which thou pleadest for may not be given, - But in the lofty altitude where souls - Who supplicate God’s grace are lifted, there - Thou shalt find help to bear thy daily lot - Which is not elsewhere found. - - - - -THANKSGIVING - - - We walk on starry fields of white - And do not see the daisies, - For blessings common in our sight - We rarely offer praises. - We sigh for some supreme delight - To crown our lives with splendour, - And quite ignore our daily store - Of pleasures sweet and tender. - - Our cares are bold and push their way - Upon our thought and feeling; - They hang about us all the day, - Our time from pleasure stealing. - So unobtrusive many a joy - We pass by and forget it, - But worry strives to own our lives, - And conquers if we let it. - - There’s not a day in all the year - But holds some hidden pleasure, - And, looking back, joys oft appear - To brim the past’s wide measure. - But blessings are like friends, I hold, - Who love and labour near us. - We ought to raise our notes of praise - While living hearts can hear us. - - Full many a blessing wears the guise - Of worry or of trouble; - Far-seeing is the soul, and wise, - Who knows the mask is double. - But he who has the faith and strength - To thank his God for sorrow - Has found a joy without alloy - To gladden every morrow. - - We ought to make the moments notes - Of happy, glad Thanksgiving; - The hours and days a silent phrase - Of music we are living. - And so the theme should swell and grow - As weeks and months pass o’er us, - And rise sublime at this good time, - A grand Thanksgiving chorus. - - - - -CONTRASTS - - - I see the tall church steeples— - They reach so far, so far; - But the eyes of my heart see the world’s great mart - Where the starving people are. - - I hear the church bells ringing - Their chimes on the morning air; - But my soul’s sad ear is hurt to hear - The poor man’s cry of despair. - - Thicker and thicker the churches, - Nearer and nearer the sky— - But alack for their creeds while the poor man’s needs - Grow deeper as years roll by! - - - - -THY SHIP - - - Hadst thou a ship, in whose vast hold lay stored - The priceless riches of all climes and lands, - Say, wouldst thou let it float upon the seas - Unpiloted, of fickle winds the sport, - And of wild waves and hidden rocks the prey? - - Thine is that ship; and in its depths concealed - Lies all the wealth of this vast universe— - Yea, lies some part of God’s omnipotence, - The legacy divine of every soul. - Thy will, O man, thy will is that great ship, - And yet behold it drifting here and there— - One moment lying motionless in port, - Then on high seas by sudden impulse flung, - Then drying on the sands, and yet again - Sent forth on idle quests to no-man’s land - To carry nothing and to nothing bring; - Till, worn and fretted by the aimless strife - And buffeted by vacillating winds, - It founders on a rock, or springs a leak, - With all its unused treasures in the hold. - - Go save thy ship, thou sluggard; take the wheel - And steer to knowledge, glory, and success. - Great mariners have made the pathway plain - For thee to follow; hold thou to the course - Of Concentration Channel, and all things - Shall come in answer to thy swerveless wish - As comes the needle to the magnet’s call, - Or sunlight to the prisoned blade of grass - That yearns all winter for the kiss of spring. - - - - -LIFE - - - All in the dark we grope along, - And if we go amiss - We learn at least which path is wrong, - And there is gain in this. - - We do not always win the race - By only running right; - We have to tread the mountain’s base - Before we reach its height. - - The Christs alone no errors made; - So often had they trod - The paths that lead through light and shade, - They had become as God. - - As Krishna, Buddha, Christ again, - They passed along the way, - And left those mighty truths which men - But dimly grasp to-day. - - But he who loves himself the last - And knows the use of pain, - Though strewn with errors all his past, - He surely shall attain. - - Some souls there are that needs must taste - Of wrong, ere choosing right; - We should not call those years a waste - Which led us to the light. - - - - -A MARINE ETCHING - - - A yacht from its harbour ropes pulled free, - And leaped like a steed o’er the race-track blue, - Then up behind her the dust of the sea, - A gray fog, drifted, and hid her from view. - - - - -“LOVE THYSELF LAST” - - - Love thyself last. Look near, behold thy duty - To those who walk beside thee down life’s road. - Make glad their days by little acts of beauty - And help them bear the burden of earth’s load. - - Love thyself last. Look far and find the stranger - Who staggers ’neath his sin and his despair; - Go, lend a hand, and lead him out of danger, - To heights where he may see the world is fair. - - Love thyself last. The vastnesses above thee - Are filled with Spirit-Forces; strong and pure - And fervently these faithful friends shall love thee - Keep thou thy watch o’er others and endure. - - Love thyself last, and oh! such joy shall thrill thee - As never yet to selfish souls was given; - Whate’er thy lot, a perfect peace will fill thee, - And earth shall seem the ante-room of Heaven. - - Love thyself last, and thou shalt grow in spirit - To see, to hear, to know, and understand. - The message of the stars, lo, thou shalt hear it, - And all God’s joys shall be at thy command. - - - - -CHRISTMAS FANCIES - - - When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow, - We hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago, - And etched on vacant places - Are half-forgotten faces - Of friends we used to cherish, and loves we used to know— - When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow. - - Uprising from the ocean of the present surging near, - We see, with strange emotion, that is not free from fear, - That continent Elysian - Long vanished from our vision, - Youth’s lovely lost Atlantis, so mourned for and so dear, - Uprising from the ocean of the present surging near. - - When gloomy, gray Decembers are roused to Christmas mirth, - The dullest life remembers there once was joy on earth, - And draws from youth’s recesses - Some memory it possesses, - And, gazing through the lens of time, exaggerates its worth, - When gloomy, gray December is roused to Christmas mirth. - - When hanging up the holly or mistletoe, I wis - Each heart recalls some folly that lit the world with bliss. - Not all the seers and sages - With wisdom of the ages - Can give the mind such pleasure as memories of that kiss - When hanging up the holly or mistletoe, I wis. - - For life was made for loving, and love alone repays, - As passing years are proving, for all of Time’s sad ways. - There lies a sting in pleasure, - And fame gives shallow measure, - And wealth is but a phantom that mocks the restless days, - For life was made for loving, and only loving pays. - - When Christmas bells are pelting the air with silver chimes, - And silences are melting to soft, melodious rhymes, - Let Love, the world’s beginning, - End fear and hate and sinning; - Let Love, the God Eternal, be worshipped in all climes - When Christmas bells are pelting the air with silver chimes. - - - - -THE RIVER - - - I am a river flowing from God’s sea - Through devious ways. He mapped my course for me; - I cannot change it; mine alone the toil - To keep the waters free from grime and soil. - The winding river ends where it began; - And when my life has compassed its brief span - I must return to that mysterious source. - So let me gather daily on my course - The perfume from the blossoms as I pass, - Balm from the pines, and healing from the grass, - And carry down my current as I go - Not common stones but precious gems to show; - And tears (the holy water from sad eyes) - Back to God’s sea, from which all rivers rise, - Let me convey, not blood from wounded hearts, - Nor poison which the upas tree imparts. - When over flowery vales I leap with joy, - Let me not devastate them, nor destroy, - But rather leave them fairer to the sight; - Mine be the lot to comfort and delight. - And if down awful chasms I needs must leap, - Let me not murmur at my lot, but sweep - On bravely to the end without one fear, - Knowing that He who planned my ways stands near. - Love sent me forth, to Love I go again, - For Love is all, and over all. Amen. - - - - -SORRY - - - There is much that makes me sorry as I journey down life’s way, - And I seem to see more pathos in poor human lives each day. - I’m sorry for the strong, brave men who shield the weak from harm, - But who, in their own troubled hours, find no protecting arm. - - I’m sorry for the victors who have reached success, to stand - As targets for the arrows shot by envious failure’s hand. - I’m sorry for the generous hearts who freely shared their wine, - But drink alone the gall of tears in fortune’s drear decline. - - I’m sorry for the souls who build their own fame’s funeral pyre, - Derided by the scornful throng like ice deriding fire. - I’m sorry for the conquering ones who know not sin’s defeat, - But daily tread down fierce desire ’neath scorched and bleeding feet. - - I’m sorry for the anguished hearts that break with passion’s strain, - But I’m sorrier for the poor starved souls that never knew love’s - pain, - Who hunger on through barren years not tasting joys they crave, - For sadder far is such a lot than weeping o’er a grave. - - I’m sorry for the souls that come unwelcomed into birth, - I’m sorry for the unloved old who cumber up the earth, - I’m sorry for the suffering poor in life’s great maelstrom hurled— - In truth, I’m sorry for them all who make this aching world. - - But underneath whate’er seems sad and is not understood, - I know there lies hid from our sight a mighty germ of good. - And this belief stands firm by me, my sermon, motto, text— - The sorriest things in this life will seem grandest in the next. - - - - -AMBITION’S TRAIL - - - If all the end of this continuous striving - Were simply _to attain_, - How poor would seem the planning and contriving, - The endless urging and the hurried driving, - Of body, heart, and brain! - - But ever in the wake of true achieving - There shines this glowing trail— - Some other soul will be spurred on, conceiving - New strength and hope, in its own power believing, - Because _thou_ didst not fail. - - Not thine alone the glory, nor the sorrow, - If thou dost miss the goal; - Undreamed of lives in many a far to-morrow - From thee their weakness or their force shall borrow— - On, on, ambitious soul. - - - - -UNCONTROLLED - - - The mighty forces of mysterious space - Are one by one subdued by lordly man. - The awful lightning that for eons ran - Their devastating and untrammelled race, - Now bear his messages from place to place - Like carrier doves. The winds lead on his van; - The lawless elements no longer can - Resist his strength, but yield with sullen grace. - - His bold feet scaling heights before untrod, - Light, darkness, air and water, heat and cold, - He bids go forth and bring him power and pelf. - And yet, though ruler, king and demi-god, - He walks with his fierce passions uncontrolled, - The conqueror of all things—save himself. - - - - -WILL - - - You will be what you will to be; - Let failure find its false content - In that poor word “environment,” - But spirit scorns it, and is free. - - It masters time, it conquers space, - It cowes that boastful trickster Chance, - And bids the tyrant Circumstance - Uncrown and fill a servant’s place. - - The human Will, that force unseen, - The offspring of a deathless Soul, - Can hew the way to any goal, - Though walls of granite intervene. - - Be not impatient in delay, - But wait as one who understands; - When spirit rises and commands, - The gods are ready to obey. - - The river seeking for the sea - Confronts the dam and precipice, - Yet knows it cannot fail or miss; - _You will be what you will to be_! - - - - -TO AN ASTROLOGER - - - Nay, seer, I do not doubt thy mystic lore, - Nor question that the tenor of my life, - Past, present, and the future, is revealed - There in my horoscope. I do believe - That yon dead moon compels the haughty seas - To ebb and flow, and that my natal star - Stands like a stern-browed sentinel in space - And challenges events; nor lets one grief, - Or joy, or failure, or success, pass on - To mar or bless my earthly lot, until - It proves its Karmic right to come to me. - - All this I grant, but more than this I _know_! - Before the solar systems were conceived, - When nothing was but the unnamable, - My spirit lived, an atom of the Cause. - Through countless ages and in many forms - It has existed, ere it entered in - This human frame to serve its little day - Upon the earth. The deathless Me of me. - The spark from that great all-creative fire, - Is part of that eternal source called God, - And mightier than the universe. - - Why, he - Who knows, and knowing, never once forgets - The pedigree divine of his own soul, - Can conquer, shape, and govern destiny, - And use vast space as ’twere a board for chess - With stars for pawns; can change his horoscope - To suit his will; turn failure to success, - And from preordained sorrows, harvest joy. - - There is no puny planet, sun, or moon, - Or zodiacal sign which can control - The God in us! If we bring _that_ to bear - Upon events, we mould them to our wish; - ’Tis when the infinite ’neath the finite gropes - That men are governed by their horoscopes. - - - - -THE TENDRIL’S FATE - - - Under the snow, in the dark and the cold, - A pale little sprout was humming; - Sweetly it sang, ’neath the frozen mould, - Of the beautiful days that were coming. - - “How foolish your songs!” said a lump of clay; - “What is there, I ask, to prove them? - Just look at the walls between you and the day, - Now, have you the strength to move them?” - - But under the ice and under the snow - The pale little sprout kept singing, - “I cannot tell how, but I know, I know, - I know what the days are bringing. - - “Birds, and blossoms, and buzzing bees, - Blue, blue skies above me, - Bloom on the meadows and buds on the trees - And the great glad sun to love me.” - - A pebble spoke next: “You are quite absurd,” - It said, “with your song’s insistence; - For _I_ never saw a tree or a bird, - So of course there are none in existence.” - - “But I know, I know,” the tendril cried, - In beautiful sweet unreason; - Till lo! from its prison, glorified, - It burst in the glad spring season. - - - - -THE TIMES - - - The times are not degenerate. Man’s faith - Mounts higher than of old. No crumbling creed - Can take from the immortal soul the need - Of that supreme Creator, God. The wraith - Of dead beliefs we cherished in our youth - Fades but to let us welcome new-born Truth. - - Man may not worship at the ancient shrine - Prone on his face, in self-accusing scorn. - That night is past. He hails a fairer morn, - And knows himself a something all divine; - Not humble worm whose heritage is sin, - But, born of God, he feels the Christ withal. - - Not loud his prayers, as in the olden time, - But deep his reverence for that mighty force, - That occult working of the great All-Source, - Which makes the present era so sublime. - Religion now means something high and broad. - And man stood never half so near to God. - - - - -THE QUESTION - - - Beside us in our seeking after pleasures, - Through all our restless striving after fame, - Through all our search for worldly gains and treasures, - There walketh one whom no man likes to name. - Silent he follows, veiled of form and feature, - Indifferent if we sorrow or rejoice, - Yet that day comes when every living creature - Must look upon his face and hear his voice. - - When that day comes to you, and Death, unmasking, - Shall bar your path, and say, “Behold the end,” - What are the questions that he will be asking - About your past? Have you considered, friend? - I think he will not chide you for your sinning, - Nor for your creeds or dogmas will he care; - He will but ask, “From your life’s first beginning - How many burdens have you helped to bear?” - - - - -SORROW’S USES - - - The uses of sorrow I comprehend - Better and better at each year’s end. - - Deeper and deeper I seem to see - Why and wherefore it has to be. - - Only after the dark, wet days - Do we fully rejoice in the sun’s bright rays. - - Sweeter the crust tastes after the fast - Than the sated gourmand’s finest repast. - - The faintest cheer sounds never amiss - To the actor who once has heard a hiss. - - To one who the sadness of freedom knows, - Light seem the fetters love may impose. - - And he who has dwelt with his heart alone, - Hears all the music in friendship’s tone. - - So better and better I comprehend - How sorrow ever would be our friend. - - - - -IF - - - ’Twixt what thou art, and what thou wouldst be, let - No “If” arise on which to lay the blame. - Man makes a mountain of that puny word, - But, like a blade of grass before the scythe, - It falls and withers when a human will, - Stirred by creative force, sweeps toward its aim. - - Thou wilt be what thou couldst be. Circumstance - Is but the toy of genius. When a soul - Burns with a god-like purpose to achieve, - All obstacles between it and its goal - Must vanish as the dew before the sun. - - “If” is the motto of the dilettante - And idle dreamer; ’tis the poor excuse - Of mediocrity. The truly great - Know not the word, or know it but to scorn, - Else had Joan of Arc a peasant died, - Uncrowned by glory and by men unsung. - - - - -WHICH ARE YOU? - - - There are two kinds of people on earth to-day; - Just two kinds of people, no more, I say. - - Not the sinner and saint, for it’s well understood - The good are half bad, and the bad are half good. - - Not the rich and the poor, for to rate a man’s wealth - You must first know the state of his conscience and health. - - Not the humble and proud, for, in life’s little span, - Who puts on vain airs is not counted a man. - - Not the happy and sad, for the swift flying years - Bring each man his laughter, and each man his tears. - - No; the two kinds of people on earth I mean - Are the people who lift, and the people who lean. - - Wherever you go, you will find the earth’s masses - Are always divided in just these two classes. - - And, oddly enough, you will find too, I ween, - There’s only one lifter to twenty who lean. - - In which class are you? Are you easing the load - Of overtaxed lifters, who toil down the road? - - Or are you a leaner, who lets others share - Your portion of labour and worry and care? - - - - -THE CREED TO BE - - - Our thoughts are moulding unmade spheres, - And, like a blessing or a curse, - They thunder down the formless years, - And ring throughout the universe. - - We build our futures by the shape - Of our desires, and not by acts. - There is no pathway of escape; - No priest-made creeds can alter facts. - - Salvation is not begged or bought; - Too long this selfish hope sufficed; - Too long man reeked with lawless thought, - And leaned upon a tortured Christ. - - Like shrivelled leaves, these worn-out creeds - Are dropping from Religion’s tree; - The world begins to know its needs, - And souls are crying to be free. - - Free from the load of fear and grief, - Man fashioned in an ignorant age; - Free from the ache of unbelief - He fled to in rebellious rage. - - No church can bind him to the things - That fed the first crude souls, evolved; - For, mounting up on daring wings, - He questions mysteries all unsolved. - - Above the chant of priests, above - The blatant voice of braying doubt, - He hears the still, small voice of Love, - Which sends its simple message out. - - And clearer, sweeter, day by day, - Its mandate echoes from the skies, - “Go roll the stone of self away, - And let the Christ within thee rise.” - - - - -INSPIRATION - - - Not like a daring, bold, aggressive boy, - Is inspiration, eager to pursue, - But rather like a maiden, fond, yet coy, - Who gives herself to him who best doth woo. - - Once she may smile, or thrice, thy soul to fire, - In passing by, but when she turns her face, - Thou must persist and seek her with desire, - If thou wouldst win the favour of her grace. - - And if, like some winged bird, she cleaves the air, - And leaves thee spent and stricken on the earth, - Still must thou strive to follow even there, - That she may know thy valour and thy worth. - - Then shall she come unveiling all her charms, - Giving thee joy for pain, and smiles for tears; - Then shalt thou clasp her with possessing arms, - The while she murmurs music in thine ears. - - But ere her kiss has faded from thy cheek, - She shall flee from thee over hill and glade, - So must thou seek and ever seek and seek - For each new conquest of this phantom maid - - - - -THE WISH - - - Should some great angel say to me to-morrow, - “Thou must re-tread thy pathway from the start, - But God will grant, in pity, for thy sorrow, - Some one dear wish, the nearest to thy heart.” - - This were my wish!—from my life’s dim beginning - _Let be what has been_! wisdom planned the whole - My want, my woe, my errors, and my sinning, - All, all were needed lessons for my soul. - - - - -THREE FRIENDS - - - Of all the blessings which my life has known, - I value most, and most praise God for three: - Want, Loneliness, and Pain, those comrades true, - - Who masqueraded in the garb of foes - For many a year, and filled my heart with dread. - Yet fickle joys, like false, pretentious friends, - Have proved less worthy than this trio. First, - - Want taught me labour, led me up the steep - And toilsome paths to hills of pure delight, - Trod only by the feet that know fatigue, - And yet press on until the heights appear. - - Then loneliness and hunger of the heart - Sent me upreaching to the realms of space, - Till all the silences grew eloquent, - And all their loving forces hailed me friend. - - Last, pain taught prayer! placed in my hand the staff - Of close communion with the over-soul, - That I might lean upon it to the end, - And find myself made strong for any strife. - - And then these three who had pursued my steps - Like stern, relentless foes, year after year, - Unmasked, and turned their faces full on me, - And lo! they were divinely beautiful, - For through them shone the lustrous eyes of Love. - - - - -YOU NEVER CAN TELL - - - You never can tell when you send a word, - Like an arrow shot from a bow - By an archer blind, be it cruel or kind, - Just where it may chance to go! - It may pierce the breast of your dearest friend, - Tipped with its poison or balm; - To a stranger’s heart in life’s great mart, - It may carry its pain or its calm. - - You never can tell when you do an act - Just what the result will be; - But with every deed you are sowing a seed, - Though the harvest you may not see. - Each kindly act is an acorn dropped - In God’s productive soil. - You may not know, but the tree shall grow, - With shelter for those who toil. - - You never can tell what your thoughts will do, - In bringing you hate or love; - For thoughts are things, and their airy wings - Are swifter than carrier doves. - They follow the law of the universe— - Each thing must create its kind; - And they speed o’er the track to bring you back - _Whatever went out from your mind_. - - - - -HERE AND NOW - - - Here, in the heart of the world, - Here, in the noise and the din, - Here, where our spirits were hurled - To battle with sorrow and sin, - This is the place and the spot - For knowledge of infinite things - This is the kingdom where Thought - Can conquer the prowess of kings - - Wait for no heavenly life, - Seek for no temple alone; - Here, in the midst of the strife, - Know what the sages have known. - See what the Perfect Ones saw— - God in the depth of each soul, - God as the light and the law, - God as beginning and goal. - - Earth is one chamber of Heaven, - Death is no grander than birth. - Joy in the life that was given, - Strive for perfection on earth; - Here, in the turmoil and roar, - Show what it is to be calm; - Show how the spirit can soar - And bring back its healing and balm. - - Stand not aloof nor apart, - Plunge in the thick of the fight; - There, in the street and the mart, - That is the place to do right. - Not in some cloister or cave, - Not in some kingdom above, - Here, on this side of the grave, - Here, should we labour and love. - - - - -UNCONQUERED - - - However skilled and strong art thou, my foe, - However fierce is thy relentless hate, - Though firm thy hand, and strong thy aim, and straight - Thy poisoned arrow leaves the bended bow, - - To pierce the target of my heart, ah! know - I am the master yet of my own fate. - Thou canst not rob me of my best estate, - Though fortune, fame, and friends, yea, love shall go. - - Not to the dust shall my true self be hurled, - Nor shall I meet thy worst assaults dismayed; - When all things in the balance are well weighed, - There is but one great danger in the world— - _Thou canst not force my soul to wish thee ill_, - That is the only evil that can kill. - - - - -ALL THAT LOVE ASKS - - - “All that I ask,” says Love, “is just to stand - And gaze, unchided, deep in thy dear eyes; - For in their depths lies largest Paradise. - Yet, if perchance one pressure of thy hand - Be granted me, then joy I thought complete - Were still more sweet. - - “All that I ask,” says Love, “all that I ask, - Is just thy hand-clasp. Could I brush thy cheek - As zephyrs brush a rose leaf, words are weak - To tell the bliss in which my soul would bask. - There is no language but would desecrate - A joy so great. - - “All that I ask, is just one tender touch - Of that soft cheek. Thy pulsing palm in mine, - Thy dark eyes lifted in a trust divine, - And those curled lips that tempt me overmuch - Turned where I may not seize the supreme bliss - Of one mad kiss. - - “All that I ask,” says Love, “of life, of death, - Or of high heaven itself, is just to stand, - Glance melting into glance, hand twined in hand, - The while I drink the nectar of thy breath - In one sweet kiss, but one, of all thy store, - I ask no more.” - - “All that I ask”—nay, self-deceiving Love, - Reverse thy phrase, so thus the words may fall, - In place of “all I ask,” say, “I ask all,” - All that pertains to earth or soars above, - All that thou wert, art, will be, body, soul, - Love asks the whole, - - - - -“DOES IT PAY?” - - - If one poor burdened toiler o’er life’s road, - Who meets us by the way, - Goes on less conscious of his galling load, - Then life, indeed, does pay. - - If we can show one troubled heart the gain - That lies alway in loss, - Why, then, we too are paid for all the pain - Of bearing life’s hard cross. - - If some despondent soul to hope is stirred, - Some sad lip made to smile, - By any act of ours, or any word, - Then, life has been worth while. - - - - -SESTINA - - - I wandered o’er the vast green plains of youth, - And searched for Pleasure. On a distant height - Fame’s silhouette stood sharp against the skies. - Beyond vast crowds that thronged a broad highway - I caught the glimmer of a golden goal, - While from a blooming bower smiled siren Love. - - Straight gazing in her eyes, I laughed at Love - With all the haughty insolence of youth, - As past her bower I strode to seek my goal. - “Now will I climb to glory’s dizzy height,” - I said, “for there above the common way - Doth pleasure dwell companioned by the skies.” - - But when I reached that summit near the skies, - So far from man I seemed, so far from Love— - “Not here,” I cried, “doth Pleasure find her way.” - Seen from the distant borderland of youth, - Fame smiles upon us from her sun-kissed height, - But frowns in shadows when we reach the goal. - - Then were mine eyes fixed on that glittering goal, - Dear to all sense—sunk souls beneath the skies. - Gold tempts the artist from the lofty height, - Gold lures the maiden from the arms of Love, - Gold buys the fresh, ingenuous heart of youth, - “And gold,” I said, “will show me Pleasure’s way.” - - But ah! the soil and discord of that way, - Where savage hordes rushed headlong to the goal, - Dead to the best impulses of their youth, - Blind to the azure beauty of the skies; - Dulled to the voice of conscience and of love, - They wandered far from Truth’s eternal height. - - Then Truth spoke to me from that noble height, - Saying, “Thou didst pass Pleasure on the way, - She with the yearning eyes so full of Love, - Whom thou disdained to seek for glory’s goal. - Two blending paths beneath God’s arching skies - Lead straight to Pleasure. Ah! blind heart of youth, - Not up fame’s height, not toward the base god’s goal, - Doth Pleasure make her way, but ’neath calm skies - Where Duty walks with Love in endless youth.” - - - - -THE OPTIMIST - - - The fields were bleak and sodden. - Not a wing - Or note enlivened the depressing wood; - A soiled and sullen, stubborn snowdrift stood - Beside the roadway. Winds came muttering - Of storms to be, and brought the chilly sting - Of icebergs in their breath. Stalled cattle mooed - Forth plaintive pleadings for the earth’s green food. - No gleam, no hint of hope in anything. - - The sky was blank and ashen, like the face - Of some poor wretch who drains life’s cup too fast - Yet, swaying to and fro, as if to fling - About chilled Nature its lithe arms of grace, - Smiling with promise in the wintry blast, - The optimistic Willow spoke of spring. - - - - -THE PESSIMIST - - - The pessimistic locust, last to leaf, - Though all the world is glad, still talks of grief. - - - - -AN INSPIRATION - - - However the battle is ended, - Though proudly the victor comes - With fluttering flags and prancing nags - And echoing roll of drums, - Still truth proclaims this motto - In letters of living light,— - No question is ever settled - Until it is settled right. - - Though the heel of the strong oppressor - May grind the weak in the dust; - And the voices of fame with one acclaim - May call him great and just, - Let those who applaud take warning. - And keep this motto in sight,— - No question is ever settled - Until it is settled right. - - Let those who have failed take courage; - Though the enemy seems to have won, - Though his ranks are strong, if he be in the wrong - The battle is not yet done; - For, sure as the morning follows - The darkest hour of the night, - No question is ever settled - Until it is settled right. - - O man bowed down with labour! - O woman young, yet old! - O heart oppressed in the toiler’s breast - And crushed by the power of gold - Keep on with your weary battle - Against triumphant might; - No question is ever settled - Until it is settled right. - - - - -LIFE’S HARMONIES - - - Let no man pray that he know not sorrow, - Let no soul ask to be free from pain, - For the gall of to-day is the sweet of to-morrow, - And the moment’s loss is the lifetime’s gain. - - Through want of a thing does its worth redouble, - Through hunger’s pangs does the feast content, - And only the heart that has harboured trouble - Can fully rejoice when joy is sent. - - Let no man shrink from the bitter tonics - Of grief, and yearning, and need, and strife, - For the rarest chords in the soul’s harmonics - Are found in the minor strains of life. - - - - -PREPARATION - - - We must not force events, but rather make - The heart soil ready for their coming, as - The earth spreads carpets for the feet of Spring, - Or, with the strengthening tonic of the frost, - Prepares for winter. Should a July noon - Burst suddenly upon a frozen world - Small joy would follow, even though that world - Were longing for the Summer. Should the sting - Of sharp December pierce the heart of June, - What death and devastation would ensue! - All things are planned. The most majestic sphere - That whirls through space is governed and controlled - By supreme law, as is the blade of grass - Which through the bursting bosom of the earth - Creeps up to kiss the light. Poor, puny man - Alone doth strive and battle with the Force - Which rules all lives and worlds, and he alone - Demands effect before producing cause. - How vain the hope! We cannot harvest joy - Until we sow the seed, and God alone - Knows when that seed has ripened. Oft we stand - And watch the ground with anxious, brooding eyes, - Complaining of the slow, unfruitful yield, - Not knowing that the shadow of ourselves - Keeps off the sunlight and delays result. - Sometimes our fierce impatience of desire - Doth like a sultry May force tender shoots - Of half-formed pleasures and unshaped events - To ripen prematurely, and we reap - But disappointment; or we rot the germs - With briny tears ere they have time to grow. - While stars are born and mighty planets die - And hissing comets scorch the brow of space, - The Universe keeps its eternal calm. - Through patient preparation, year on year, - The earth endures the travail of the Spring - And Winter’s desolation. So our souls - In grand submission to a higher law - Should move serene through all the ills of life - Believing them masked joys. - - - - -GETHSEMANE - - - In golden youth when seems the earth - A Summer-land of singing mirth, - When souls are glad and hearts are light, - And not a shadow lurks in sight, - We do not know it, but there lieu - Somewhere veiled under evening skies - A garden which we all must see— - The garden of Gethsemane. - - With joyous steps we go our ways, - Love lends a halo to our days; - Light sorrows sail like clouds afar, - We laugh, and say how strong we are. - We hurry on; and hurrying, go - Close to the borderland of woe - That waits for you, and waits for me— - Forever waits Gethsemane. - - Down shadowy lanes, across strange streams, - Bridged over by our broken dreams; - Behind the misty caps of years, - Beyond the great salt fount of tears, - The garden lies. Strive as you may, - You cannot miss it in your way; - All paths that have been, or shall be, - Pass somewhere through Gethsemane. - - All those who journey, soon or late, - Must pass within the garden’s gate; - Must kneel alone in darkness there, - And battle with some fierce despair. - God pity those who cannot say, - “Not mine but Thine”; who only pray - “Let this cup pass,” and cannot see - The _purpose_ in Gethsemane. - - - - -GOD’S MEASURE - - - God measures souls by their capacity - For entertaining his best Angel, Love. - Who loveth most is nearest kin to God, - Who is all Love, or Nothing. - - He who sits - And looks out on the palpitating world, - And feels his heart swell in him large enough - To hold all men within it, he is near - His great Creator’s standard, though he dwells - Outside the pale of churches, and knows not - A feast-day from a fast-day, or a line - Of Scripture even. What God wants of us - Is that outreaching bigness that ignores - All littleness of aims, or loves, or creeds, - And clasps all Earth and Heaven in its embrace. - - - - -NOBLESSE OBLIGE - - - I hold it the duty of one who is gifted - And specially dowered in all men’s sight, - To know no rest till his life is lifted - Fully up to his great gifts’ height. - - He must mould the man into rare completeness, - For gems are set only in gold refined. - He must fashion his thoughts into perfect sweetness. - And cast out folly and pride from his mind. - - For he who drinks from a god’s gold fountain - Of art or music or rhythmic song - Must sift from his soul the chaff of malice, - And weed from his heart the roots of wrong. - - Great gifts should be worn, like a crown befitting, - And not like gems in a beggar’s hands! - And the toil must be constant and unremitting - Which lifts up the king to the crown’s demands. - - - - -THROUGH TEARS - - - An artist toiled over his pictures; - He laboured by night and by day, - He struggled for glory and honour - But the world, it had nothing to say. - His walls were ablaze with the splendours - We see in the beautiful skies; - But the world beheld only the colours - That were made out of chemical dyes. - - Time sped. And he lived, loved, and suffered; - He passed through the valley of grief. - Again he toiled over his canvas, - Since in labour alone was relief. - It showed not the splendour of colours - Of those of his earlier years; - But the world? the world bowed down before it - Because it was painted with tears. - - A poet was gifted with genius, - And he sang, and he sang all the days. - He wrote for the praise of the people, - But the people accorded no praise. - Oh! his songs were as blithe as the morning, - As sweet as the music of birds; - But the world had no homage to offer, - Because they were nothing but words. - - Time sped. And the poet through sorrow - Became like his suffering kind. - Again he toiled over his poems - To lighten the grief of his mind. - They were not so flowing and rhythmic - As those of his earlier years; - But the world? lo! it offered its homage, - Because they were written in tears. - - So ever the price must be given - By those seeking glory in art; - So ever the world is repaying - The grief-stricken, suffering heart. - The happy must ever be humble; - Ambition must wait for the years - Ere hoping to win the approval - Of a world that looks on through its tears. - - - - -WHAT WE NEED - - - What does our country need? No armies standing - With sabres gleaming ready for the fight; - Not increased navies, skilful and commanding, - To bound the waters with an iron might; - Not haughty men with glutted purses trying - To purchase souls, and keep the power of place; - Not jewelled dolls with one another vying - For palms of beauty, elegance, and grace. - - But we want women, strong of soul, yet lowly, - With that rare meekness, born of gentleness; - Women whose lives are pure and clean and holy, - The women whom all little children bless; - Brave, earnest women, helpful to each other, - With finest scorn for all things low and mean; - Women who hold the names of wife and mother - Far nobler than the title of a queen. - - Oh! these are they who mould the men of story, - These mothers, ofttimes shorn of grace and youth, - Who, worn and weary, ask no greater glory - Than making some young soul the home of truth; - Who sow in hearts all fallow for the sowing - The seeds of virtue and of scorn for sin, - And, patient, watch the beauteous harvest growing - And weed out tares which crafty hands cast in; - - Women who do not hold the gift of beauty - As some rare treasure to be bought and sold. - But guard it as a precious aid to duty— - The outer framing of the inner gold; - Women who, low above their cradles bending, - Let flattery’s voice go by, and give no heed, - While their pure prayers like incense are ascending - _These_ are our country’s pride, our country’s need, - - - - -PLEA TO SCIENCE - - - O Science, reaching backward through the distance, - Most earnest child of God, - Exposing all the secrets of existence, - With thy divining rod, - I bid thee speed up to the heights supernal, - Clear thinker, ne’er sufficed; - Go seek and bind the laws and truths eternal, - But leave me Christ. - - Upon the vanity of pious sages - Let in the light of day; - Break down the superstitions of all ages— - Thrust bigotry away; - Stride on, and bid all stubborn foes defiance, - Let Truth and Reason reign: - But I beseech thee, O Immortal Science, - Let Christ remain. - - What canst thou give to help me bear my crosses, - In place of Him, my Lord? - And what to recompense for all my losses, - And bring me sweet reward? - _Thou_ couldst not with thy clear, cold eyes of reason, - Thou couldst not comfort me - Like One who passed through that tear-blotted season - In sad Gethsemane! - - Through all the weary, wearing hour of sorrow, - What word that thou hast said - Would make me strong to wait for some to-morrow - When I should find my dead? - When I am weak, and desolate, and lonely— - And prone to follow wrong? - Not thou, O Science—Christ, my Saviour, only - Can make me strong. - - Thou art so cold, so lofty, and so distant, - Though great my need might be, - No prayer, however constant and persistent, - Could bring thee down to me. - Christ stands so near, to help me through each hour, - To guide me day by day - O Science, sweeping all before thy power— - Leave Christ, I pray! - - - - -RESPITE - - - The mighty conflict, which we call existence, - Doth wear upon the body and the soul, - Our vital forces wasted in resistance, - So much there is to conquer and control. - - The rock which meets the billows with defiance, - Undaunted and unshaken day by day, - In spite of its unyielding self-reliance, - Is by the warfare surely worn away. - - And there are depths and heights of strong emotions - That surge at times within the human breast, - More fierce than all the tides of all the oceans - Which sweep on ever in divine unrest. - - I sometimes think the rock worn with adventures, - And sad with thoughts of conflicts yet to be, - Must envy the frail reed which no one censures, - When, overcome, ’tis swallowed by the sea. - - This life is all resistance and repression. - Dear God, if in that other world unseen, - Not rest we find, but new life and progression, - Grant us a respite in the grave between. - - - - -SONG - - - O praise me not with your lips, dear one! - Though your tender words I prize. - But dearer by far is the soulful gaze - Of your eyes, your beautiful eyes - Your tender, loving eyes. - - O chide me not with your lips, dear one! - Though I cause your bosom sighs. - You can make repentance deeper far - By your sad, reproving eyes, - Your sorrowful, troubled eyes. - - Words, at the best, are but hollow sounds; - Above, in the beaming skies, - The constant stars say never a word, - But only smile with their eyes— - Smile on with their lustrous eyes. - - Then breathe no vow with your lips, dear one; - On the winged wind speech flies. - But I read the truth of your noble heart - In your soulful, speaking eyes— - In your deep and beautiful eyes. - - - - -MY SHIPS - - - If all the ships I have at sea - Should come a-sailing home to me, - Ah, well! the harbour could not hold - So many sails as there would be - If all my ships came in from sea. - - If half my ships came home from sea, - And brought their precious freight to me, - Ah, well! I should have wealth as great - As any king who sits in state— - So rich the treasures that would be - In half my ships now out at sea. - - If just one ship I have at sea - Should come a-sailing home to me, - Ah, well! the storm-clouds then might frown - For if the others all went down, - Still rich and proud and glad I’d be - If that one ship came back to me. - - If that one ship went down at sea, - And all the others came to me, - Weighed down with gems and wealth untold, - With glory, honours, riches, gold, - The poorest soul on earth I’d be - If that one ship came not to me. - - O skies, be calm! O winds, blow free— - Blow all my ships safe home to me! - But if thou sendest some a-wrack, - To never more come sailing back, - Send any—all that skim the sea, - But bring my love-ship home to me. - - - - -HER LOVE - - - The sands upon the ocean side - That change about with every tide, - And never true to one abide, - A woman’s love I liken to. - - The summer zephyrs, light and vain, - That sing the same alluring strain - To every grass blade on the plain— - A woman’s love is nothing more. - - The sunshine of an April day - That comes to warm you with its ray, - But while you smile has flown away— - A woman’s love is like to this. - - God made poor woman with no heart, - But gave her skill, and tact, and art, - And so she lives, and plays her part. - We must not blame, but pity her. - - She leans to man—but just to hear - The praise he whispers in her ear; - Herself, not him, she holdeth dear— - O fool! to be deceived by her. - - To sate her selfish thirst she quaffs - The love of strong hearts in sweet draughts, - Then throws them lightly by and laughs, - Too weak to understand their pain. - - As changeful as the winds that blow - From every region to and fro, - Devoid of heart, she cannot know - The suffering of a human heart. - - - - -IF - - - Dear love, if you and I could sail away, - With snowy pennons to the winds unfurled, - Across the waters of some unknown bay, - And find some island far from all the world; - - If we could dwell there, evermore alone, - While unrecorded years slip by apace, - Forgetting and forgotten and unknown - By aught save native song-birds of the place; - - If Winter never visited that land, - And Summer’s lap spilled o’er with fruits and flowers, - And tropic trees cast shade on every hand, - And twinèd boughs formed sleep-inviting bowers; - - If from the fashions of the world set free, - And hid away from all its jealous strife, - I lived alone for you, and you for me— - Ah! then, dear love, how sweet were wedded life. - - But since we dwell here in the crowded way, - Where hurrying throngs rush by to seek for gold, - And all is commonplace and work-a-day - As soon as love’s young honeymoon grows old; - - Since fashion rules and nature yields to art, - And life is hurt by daily jar and fret, - ’Tis best to shut such dreams down in the heart - And go our ways alone, love, and forget. - - - - -LOVE’S BURIAL - - - Let us clear a little space, - And make Love a burial-place. - - He is dead, dear, as you see, - And he wearies you and me. - - Growing heavier, day by day, - Let us bury him, I say. - - Wings of dead white butterflies, - These shall shroud him, as he lies - - In his casket rich and rare, - Made of finest maiden-hair. - - With the pollen of the rose - Let us his white eyelids close. - - Put the rose thorn in his hand, - Shorn of leaves—you understand. - - Let some holy water fall - On his dead face, tears of gall— - - As we kneel to him and say, - “Dreams to dreams,” and turn away. - - Those gravediggers, Doubt, Distrust, - They will lower him to the dust. - - Let us part here with a kiss— - You go that way, I go this. - - Since we buried Love to-day - We will walk a separate way. - - - - -“LOVE IS ENOUGH” - - - Love is enough. Let us not ask for gold. - Wealth breeds false aims, and pride, and selfishness; - In those serene, Arcadian days of old - Men gave no thought to princely homes and dress. - The gods who dwelt on fair Olympia’s height - Lived only for dear love and love’s delight. - Love is enough. - - Love is enough. Why should we care for fame? - Ambition is a most unpleasant guest: - It lures us with the glory of a name - Far from the happy haunts of peace and rest. - Let us stay here in this secluded place - Made beautiful by love’s endearing grace! - Love is enough. - - Love is enough. Why should we strive for power? - It brings men only envy and distrust. - The poor world’s homage pleases but an hour, - And earthly honours vanish in the dust. - The grandest lives are ofttimes desolate; - Let me be loved, and let who will be great. - Love is enough. - - Love is enough. Why should we ask for more? - What greater gift have gods vouchsafed to men? - What better boon of all their precious store - Than our fond hearts that love and love again? - Old love may die; new love is just as sweet; - And life is fair and all the world complete: - Love is enough! - - - - -LIFE IS A PRIVILEGE - - - Life is a privilege. Its youthful days - Shine with the radiance of continuous Mays. - To live, to breathe, to wonder and desire, - To feed with dreams the heart’s perpetual fire, - To thrill with virtuous passions, and to glow - With great ambitions—in one hour to know - The depths and heights of feeling—God! in truth, - How beautiful, how beautiful is youth! - - Life is a privilege. Like some rare rose - The mysteries of the human mind unclose. - What marvels lie in earth, and air, and sea! - What stores of knowledge wait our opening key! - What sunny roads of happiness lead out - Beyond the realms of indolence and doubt! - And what large pleasures smile upon and bless - The busy avenues of usefulness! - - Life is a privilege. Though noontide fades - And shadows fall along the winding glades, - Though joy-blooms wither in the autumn air, - Yet the sweet scent of sympathy is there. - Pale sorrow leads us closer to our kind, - And in the serious hours of life we find - Depths in the souls of men which lend new worth - And majesty to this brief span of earth. - - Life is a privilege. If some sad fate - Sends us alone to seek the exit gate, - If men forsake us and as shadows fall, - Still does the supreme privilege of all - Come in that reaching upward of the soul - To find the welcoming Presence at the goal, - And in the Knowledge that our feet have trod - Paths that led from, and must wind back, to God. - - - - -INSIGHT - - - Sirs, when you pity us, I say - You waste your pity. Let it stay, - Well corked and stored upon your shelves, - Until you need it for yourselves. - - We do appreciate God’s thought - In forming you, before He brought - Us into life. His art was crude, - But oh! so virile in its rude, - - Large, elemental strength; and then - He learned His trade in making men, - Learned how to mix and mould the clay - And fashion in a finer way. - - How fine that skilful way can be - You need but lift your eyes to see; - And we are glad God placed you there - To lift your eyes and find us fair. - - Apprentice labour though you were, - He made you great enough to stir - The best and deepest depths of us, - And we are glad He made you thus. - - Aye! we are glad of many things; - God strung our hearts with such fine strings - The least breath moves them, and we hear - Music where silence greets your ear. - - We suffer so? But women’s souls, - Like violet-powder dropped on coals, - Give forth their best in anguish. Oh - The subtle secrets that we know - - Of joy in sorrow, strange delights - Of ecstasy in pain-filled nights, - And mysteries of gain in loss - Known but to Christ upon the cross! - - Our tears are pitiful to you? - Look how the heaven-reflecting dew - Dissolves its life in tears. The sand - Meanwhile lies hard upon the strand. - - How could your pity find a place - For us, the mothers of the race? - Men may be fathers unaware, - So poor the title is you wear. - - But mothers—who that crown adorns - Knows all its mingled blooms and thorns, - And she whose feet that pain hath trod - Hath walked upon the heights with God. - - No, offer us not pity’s cup. - There is no looking down or up - Between us; eye looks straight in eye: - Born equals, so we live and die. - - - - -A WOMAN’S ANSWER - - - You call me an angel of love and of light, - A being of goodness and heavenly fire, - Sent out from God’s kingdom to guide you aright, - In paths where your spirit may mount and aspire, - You say that I glow like a star on its course, - Like a ray from the altar, a spark from the source. - - Now list to my answer—let all the world hear it, - I speak unafraid what I know to be true— - A pure, faithful love is the creative spirit - Which make women angels! I live but in you. - We are bound soul to soul by life’s holiest laws; - If I am an angel—why, you are the cause. - - As my ship skims the sea, I look up from the deck. - Fair, firm at the wheel shines Love’s beautiful form. - And shall I curse the bark that last night went to wreck - By the pilot abandoned to darkness and storm? - My craft is no stauncher, she too had been lost - Had the wheelman deserted, or slept at his post. - - I laid down the wealth of my soul at your feet - (Some woman does this for some man every day). - No desperate creature who walks in the street - Has a wickeder heart than I might have, I say, - Had you wantonly misused the treasures you won— - As so many men with heart-riches have done. - - This fire from God’s altar, this holy love-flame, - That burns like sweet incense forever for you, - Might now be a wild conflagration of shame, - Had you tortured my heart, or been base or untrue. - For angels and devils are cast in one mould, - Till love guides them upward or downward, I hold. - - I tell you the women who make fervent wives - And sweet tender mothers, had Fate been less fair, - Are the women who might have abandoned their lives - To the madness that springs from and ends in despair. - As the fire on the hearth which sheds brightness around, - Neglected, may level the walls to the ground. - - The world makes grave errors in judging these things. - Great good and great evil are born in one breast: - Love horns us and hoofs us, or gives us our wings, - And the best could be worst, as the worst could be best. - You must thank your own worth for what I grew to be, - For the demon lurked under the angel in me. - - - - -THE WORLD’S NEED - - - So many gods, so many creeds, - So many paths that wind and wind, - While just the art of being kind, - Is all the sad world needs. - - * * * * * - - * * * * * - - _Printed by Hanell_, _Watson & Viney_, _Ld._, _London and Aylesbury_. - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS OF POWER *** - -***** This file should be named 6667-0.txt or 6667-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - https://www.gutenberg.org/6/6/6/6667/ - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Poems of Power</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Ella Wheeler Wilcox</div> -<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Release Date: January 10, 2003 [eBook #6667]<br /> -[Most recently updated: May 18, 2021]</div> -<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> -<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: David Price</div> -<div style='margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS OF POWER ***</div> - -<div class="fig" style="width:55%;"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" style="width:100%;" alt="[Illustration]" /> -</div> - -<h1>POEMS OF POWER</h1> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> - -<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">BY</span><br /> -ELLA WHEELER WILCOX</p> - -<p style="text-align: center"> -<a href="images/tpb.jpg"> -<img alt="Decorative graphic" -title="Decorative graphic" -src="images/tps.jpg" /> -</a></p> - -<p style="text-align: center">GAY AND HANCOCK, LTD.<br /> -21 BEDFORD ROW<br /> -LONDON</p> -<p style="text-align: center">[<i>All rights reserved</i>]</p> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> - -<p style="text-align: center"><i>Published</i> 1903<br /> -<i>Reprinted</i> 1904, 1905, 1906, 1907, 1908<br /> -1909 (<i>three times</i>), 1910 (<i>four times</i>), 1911,<br /> -1912 (<i>twice</i>), 1913, 1914, 1916, 1917, 1918</p> -<p style="text-align: center"><i>N.B.</i>—<i>The only -volumes of my poems issued</i><br /> -<i>with my approval in the British Empire are</i><br /> -<i>published by</i> <span class="smcap">Messrs. Gay & -Hancock</span>.</p> - -<p style="text-align: right">ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.</p> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2>NOTE</h2> - -<p><i>The final word in the title of this volume refers to the -</i><span class="smcap"><i>Divine Power</i></span><i> in every -human being</i>, <i>the recognition of which is the secret to all -success and happiness</i>. <i>It is this idea which many of -the verses endeavour to illustrate</i>.</p> -<p style="text-align: right"><i>E. W. W.</i></p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table summary="" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto"> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem01">The Queen’s last ride</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem02">The Meeting of the Centuries</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem03">Death has Crowned him a Martyr</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem04">Grief</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem05">Illusion</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem06">Assertion</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem07">I Am</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem08">Wishing</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem09">We two</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem10">The Poet’s Theme</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem11">Song of the Spirit</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem12">Womanhood</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem13">Morning Prayer</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem14">The Voices of the People</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem15">The World grows Better</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem16">A Man’s Ideal</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem17">The Fire Brigade</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem18">The Tides</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem19">When the Regiment came back</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem20">Woman to Man</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem21">The Traveller</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem22">The Earth</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem23">Now</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem24">You and To-day</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem25">The Reason</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem26">Mission</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem27">Repetition</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem28">Begin the Day</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem29">Words</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem30">Fate and I</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem31">Attainment</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem32">A Plea to Peace</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem33">Presumption</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem34">High Noon</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem35">Thought-magnets</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem36">Smiles</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem37">The Undiscovered Country</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem38">The Universal Route</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem39">Unanswered Prayers</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem40">Thanksgiving</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem41">Contrasts</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem42">Thy Ship</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem43">Life</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem44">A Marine Etching</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem45">“Love Thyself Last”</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem46">Christmas Fancies</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem47">The River</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem48">Sorry</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem49">Ambition’s trail</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem50">Uncontrolled</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem51">Will</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem52">To an Astrologer</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem53">The Tendril’s Fate</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem54">The Times</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem55">The Question</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem56">Sorrow’s Uses</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem57">If</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem58">Which are you?</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem59">The Creed to be</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem60">Inspiration</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem61">The Wish</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem62">Three Friends</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem63">You never can tell</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem64">Here and now</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem65">Unconquered</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem66">All that love asks</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem67">“Does it pay?”</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem68">Sestina</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem69">The Optimist</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem70">The Pessimist</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem71">An Inspiration</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem72">Life’s Harmonies</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem73">Preparation</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem74">Gethsemane</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem75">God’s Measure</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem76">Noblesse Oblige</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem77">Through Tears</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem78">What we Need</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem79">Plea to Science</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem80">Respite</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem81">Song</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem82">My Ships</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem83">Her Love</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem84">If</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem85">Love’s burial</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem86">“Love is enough”</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem87">Life is a Privilege</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem88">Insight</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem89">A Woman’s Answer</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td> <a href="#poem90">The World’s Need</a></td> -</tr> - -</table> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem01"></a>THE QUEEN’S LAST RIDE</h2> - -<p style="text-align: center">(Written on the day of Queen -Victoria’s funeral)</p> -<p class="poetry">The Queen is taking a drive to-day,<br /> -They have hung with purple the carriage-way,<br /> -They have dressed with purple the royal track<br /> -Where the Queen goes forth and never comes back.</p> -<p class="poetry">Let no man labour as she goes by<br /> -On her last appearance to mortal eye:<br /> -With heads uncovered let all men wait<br /> -For the Queen to pass, in her regal state.</p> -<p class="poetry">Army and Navy shall lead the way<br /> -For that wonderful coach of the Queen’s to-day.<br /> -Kings and Princes and Lords of the land<br /> -Shall ride behind her, a humble band;<br /> -And over the city and over the world<br /> -Shall the Flags of all Nations be half-mast-furled,<br /> -For the silent lady of royal birth<br /> -Who is riding away from the Courts of earth,<br /> -Riding away from the world’s unrest<br /> -To a mystical goal, on a secret quest.</p> -<p class="poetry">Though in royal splendour she drives through -town,<br /> -Her robes are simple, she wears no crown:<br /> -And yet she wears one, for, widowed no more,<br /> -She is crowned with the love that has gone before,<br /> -And crowned with the love she has left behind<br /> -In the hidden depths of each mourner’s mind.</p> -<p class="poetry">Bow low your heads—lift your hearts on -high—<br /> -The Queen in silence is driving by!</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem02"></a>THE MEETING OF THE CENTURIES</h2> - -<p class="poetry">A curious vision on mine eyes unfurled<br /> - In the deep night. I saw, or seemed to see,<br -/> - Two Centuries meet, and sit down vis-à-vis<br -/> -Across the great round table of the world:<br /> -One with suggested sorrows in his mien,<br /> - And on his brow the furrowed lines of thought;<br /> - And one whose glad expectant presence brought<br /> -A glow and radiance from the realms unseen.</p> -<p class="poetry">Hand clasped with hand, in silence for a -space<br /> - The Centuries sat; the sad old eyes of one<br /> - (As grave paternal eyes regard a son)<br /> -Gazing upon that other eager face.<br /> -And then a voice, as cadenceless and gray<br /> - As the sea’s monody in winter time,<br /> - Mingled with tones melodious, as the chime<br /> -Of bird choirs, singing in the dawns of May.</p> -<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"> -<span class="smcap">The Old Century Speaks</span></p> -<p class="poetry">By you, Hope stands. With me, Experience -walks.<br /> -Like a fair jewel in a faded box,<br /> -In my tear-rusted heart, sweet Pity lies.<br /> -For all the dreams that look forth from your eyes,<br /> -And those bright-hued ambitions, which I know<br /> -Must fall like leaves and perish, in Time’s snow,<br /> -(Even as my soul’s garden stands bereft,)<br /> -I give you pity! ’tis the one gift left.</p> -<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span -class="smcap">The New Century</span></p> -<p class="poetry">Nay, nay, good friend! not pity, but -Godspeed,<br /> -Here in the morning of my life I need.<br /> -Counsel, and not condolence; smiles, not tears,<br /> -To guide me through the channels of the years.<br /> -Oh, I am blinded by the blaze of light<br /> -That shines upon me from the Infinite.<br /> -Blurred is my vision by the close approach<br /> -To unseen shores, whereon the times encroach.</p> -<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span -class="smcap">The Old Century</span></p> -<p class="poetry">Illusion, all illusion. List and hear<br -/> -The Godless cannons, booming far and near.<br /> -Flaunting the flag of Unbelief, with Greed<br /> -For pilot, lo! the pirate age in speed<br /> -Bears on to ruin. War’s most hideous crimes<br /> -Besmirch the record of these modern times.<br /> -Degenerate is the world I leave to you,—<br /> -My happiest speech to earth will be—adieu.</p> -<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span -class="smcap">The New Century</span></p> -<p class="poetry">You speak as one too weary to be just.<br /> -I hear the guns—I see the greed and lust.<br /> -The death throes of a giant evil fill<br /> -The air with riot and confusion. Ill<br /> -Ofttimes makes fallow ground for Good; and Wrong<br /> -Builds Right’s foundation, when it grows too strong.<br /> -Pregnant with promise is the hour, and grand<br /> -The trust you leave in my all-willing hand.</p> -<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span -class="smcap">The Old Century</span></p> -<p class="poetry">As one who throws a flickering taper’s -ray<br /> -To light departing feet, my shadowed way<br /> -You brighten with your faith. Faith makes the man<br /> -Alas, that my poor foolish age outran<br /> -Its early trust in God! The death of art<br /> -And progress follows, when the world’s hard heart<br /> -Casts out religion. ’Tis the human brain<br /> -Men worship now, and heaven, to them, means—gain.</p> -<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"> -<span class="smcap">The New Century</span></p> -<p class="poetry">Faith is not dead, tho’ priest and creed -may pass,<br /> -For thought has leavened the whole unthinking mass,<br /> -And man looks now to find the God within.<br /> -We shall talk more of love, and less of sin,<br /> -In this new era. We are drawing near<br /> -Unatlassed boundaries of a larger sphere.<br /> -With awe, I wait, till Science leads us on,<br /> -Into the full effulgence of its dawn.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem03"></a>DEATH HAS CROWNED HIM A MARTYR</h2> - -<p>(Written on the day of President McKinley’s death)</p> -<p class="poetry">In the midst of sunny waters, lo! the mighty -Ship of State<br /> -Staggers, bruised and torn and wounded by a derelict of fate,<br -/> -One that drifted from its moorings in the anchorage of hate.</p> -<p class="poetry">On the deck our noble Pilot, in the glory of -his prime,<br /> -Lies in woe-impelling silence, dead before his hour or time,<br -/> -Victim of a mind self-centred in a Godless fool of crime.</p> -<p class="poetry">One of earth’s dissension-breeders, one -of Hate’s unreasoning tools,<br /> -In the annals of the ages, when the world’s hot anger -cools,<br /> -He who sought for Crime’s distinction shall be known as -Chief of Fools.</p> -<p class="poetry">In the annals of the ages, he who had no thought of -fame<br /> -(Keeping on the path of duty, caring not for praise or blame),<br -/> -Close beside the deathless Lincoln, writ in light, will shine his -name.</p> -<p class="poetry">Youth proclaimed him as a hero; time, a -statesman; love, a man;<br /> -Death has crowned him as a martyr,—so from goal to goal he -ran,<br /> -Knowing all the sum of glory that a human life may span.</p> -<p class="poetry">He was chosen by the people; not an accident of -birth<br /> -Made him ruler of a nation, but his own intrinsic worth.<br /> -Fools may govern over kingdoms—not republics of the -earth.</p> -<p class="poetry">He has raised the lovers’ standard by his -loyalty and faith,<br /> -He has shown how virile manhood may keep free from -scandal’s breath.<br /> -He has gazed, with trust unshaken, in the awful eyes of -Death.</p> -<p class="poetry">In the mighty march of progress he has sought to do his -best.<br /> -Let his enemies be silent, as we lay him down to rest,<br /> -And may God assuage the anguish of one suffering woman’s -breast.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem04"></a>GRIEF</h2> - -<p class="poetry">As the funeral train with its honoured dead<br -/> - On its mournful way went sweeping,<br /> -While a sorrowful nation bowed its head<br /> - And the whole world joined in weeping,<br /> -I thought, as I looked on the solemn sight,<br /> - Of the one fond heart despairing,<br /> -And I said to myself, as in truth I might,<br /> - “How sad must be this -<i>sharing</i>.”</p> -<p class="poetry">To share the living with even Fame,<br /> - For a heart that is only human,<br /> -Is hard, when Glory asserts her claim<br /> - Like a bold, insistent woman;<br /> -Yet a great, grand passion can put aside<br /> - Or stay each selfish emotion,<br /> -And watch, with a pleasure that springs from pride,<br /> - Its rival—the world’s devotion.</p> -<p class="poetry">But Death should render to love its own,<br /> - And my heart bowed down and sorrowed<br /> -For the stricken woman who wept alone<br /> - While even her <i>dead</i> was borrowed;<br /> -Borrowed from her, the bride—the wife—<br /> - For the world’s last martial honour,<br /> -As she sat in the gloom of her darkened life,<br /> - With her widow’s grief fresh upon her.</p> -<p class="poetry">He had shed the glory of Love and Fame<br /> - In a golden halo about her;<br /> -She had shared his triumphs and worn his name:<br /> - But, alas! he had died without her.<br /> -He had wandered in many a distant realm,<br /> - And never had left her behind him,<br /> -But now, with a spectral shape at the helm,<br /> - He had sailed where she could not find him.</p> -<p class="poetry">It was only a thought, that came that day<br /> - In the midst of the muffled drumming<br /> -And funeral music and sad display,<br /> - That I knew was right and becoming<br /> -Only a thought as the mourning train<br /> - Moved, column after column,<br /> -Bearing the dead to the burial plain<br /> - With a reverence grand as solemn.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem05"></a>ILLUSION</h2> - -<p class="poetry">God and I in space alone<br /> - And nobody else in view.<br /> -“And where are the people, O Lord,” I said,<br /> -“The earth below, and the sky o’er head,<br /> - And the dead whom once I knew?”</p> -<p class="poetry">“That was a dream,” God smiled and -said—<br /> - “A dream that seemed to be true.<br /> -There were no people, living or dead,<br /> -There was no earth, and no sky o’erhead;<br /> - There was only Myself—in you.”</p> -<p class="poetry">“Why do I feel no fear,” I -asked,<br /> - “Meeting You here this way?<br /> -For I have sinned I know full well?<br /> -And is there heaven, and is there hell,<br /> - And is this the judgment day?”</p> -<p class="poetry">“Say, those were but dreams,” the Great God -said,<br /> - “Dreams, that have ceased to be.<br /> -There are no such things as fear or sin,<br /> -There is no you—you never have been—<br /> - There is nothing at all but <i>Me</i>.”</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem06"></a>ASSERTION</h2> - -<p class="poetry">I am serenity. Though passions beat<br /> - Like mighty billows on my helpless heart,<br /> -I know beyond them lies the perfect sweet<br /> - Serenity, which patience can impart.<br /> -And when wild tempests in my bosom rage,<br /> -“Peace, peace,” I cry, “it is my -heritage.”</p> -<p class="poetry">I am good health. Though fevers rack my -brain<br /> - And rude disorders mutilate my strength,<br /> -A perfect restoration after pain,<br /> - I know shall be my recompense at length.<br /> -And so through grievous day and sleepless night,<br /> -“Health, health,” I cry, “it is my own by -right.”</p> -<p class="poetry">I am success. Though hungry, cold, -ill-clad,<br /> - I wander for awhile, I smile and say,<br /> -“It -is but for a time—I shall be glad<br /> - To-morrow, for good fortune comes my way.<br /> -God is my father, He has wealth untold,<br /> -His wealth is mine, health, happiness, and gold.”</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem07"></a>I AM</h2> - -<p class="poetry">I know not whence I came,<br /> - I know not whither I go;<br /> -But the fact stands clear that I am here<br /> - In this world of pleasure and woe.<br /> -And out of the mist and murk<br /> - Another truth shines plain—<br /> -It is my power each day and hour<br /> - To add to its joy or its pain.</p> -<p class="poetry">I know that the earth exists,<br /> - It is none of my business why;<br /> -I cannot find out what it’s all about,<br /> - I would but waste time to try.<br /> -My life is a brief, brief thing,<br /> - I am here for a little space,<br /> -And while I stay I would like, if I may,<br /> - To brighten and better the place.</p> -<p class="poetry">The trouble, I think, with us all<br /> - Is the lack of a high conceit.<br /> -If each man thought he was sent to this spot<br /> - To make it a bit more sweet,<br /> -How soon we could gladden the world,<br /> - How easily right all wrong,<br /> -If nobody shirked, and each one worked<br /> - To help his fellows along!</p> -<p class="poetry">Cease wondering why you came—<br /> - Stop looking for faults and flaws;<br /> -Rise up to-day in your pride and say,<br /> - “I am part of the First Great Cause!<br /> -However full the world,<br /> - There is room for an earnest man.<br /> -It had need of me, or I would not be—<br /> - I am here to strengthen the plan.”</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem08"></a>WISHING</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Do you wish the world were better?<br /> - Let me tell you what to do:<br /> -Set a watch upon your actions,<br /> - Keep them always straight and true;<br /> -Rid your mind of selfish motives;<br /> - Let your thoughts be clean and high.<br /> -You can make a little Eden<br /> - Of the sphere you occupy.</p> -<p class="poetry">Do you wish the world were wiser?<br /> - Well, suppose you make a start,<br /> -By accumulating wisdom<br /> - In the scrapbook of your heart:<br /> -Do not waste one page on folly;<br /> - Live to learn, and learn to live.<br /> -If you want to give men knowledge<br /> - You must get it, ere you give.</p> -<p class="poetry">Do you wish the world were happy?<br /> - Then remember day by day<br /> -Just to scatter seeds of kindness<br /> - As you pass along the way;<br /> -For the pleasures of the many<br /> - May be ofttimes traced to one,<br /> -As the hand that plants an acorn<br /> - Shelters armies from the sun.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem09"></a>WE TWO</h2> - -<p class="poetry"> We two make home of any place -we go;<br /> -We two find joy in any kind of weather;<br /> - Or if the earth is clothed in bloom or snow,<br /> - If summer days invite, or bleak winds blow,<br /> -What matters it if we two are together?<br /> -We two, we two, we make our world, our weather.</p> -<p class="poetry"> We two make banquets of the -plainest fare;<br /> -In every cup we find the thrill of pleasure;<br /> - We hide with wreaths the furrowed brow of care,<br -/> - And win to smiles the set lips of despair.<br /> -For us life always moves with lilting measure;<br /> -We two, we two, we make our world, our pleasure.</p> -<p class="poetry"> We two find youth renewed -with every dawn;<br /> -Each day holds something of an unknown glory.<br /> - We waste no thought on grief or pleasure gone;<br /> - Tricked out like hope, time leads us on and on,<br -/> -And thrums upon his harp new song or story.<br /> -We two, we two, we find the paths of glory.</p> -<p class="poetry"> We two make heaven here on -this little earth;<br /> -We do not need to wait for realms eternal.<br /> - We know the use of tears, know sorrow’s -worth,<br /> - And pain for us is always love’s rebirth.<br -/> -Our paths lead closely by the paths supernal;<br /> -We two, we two, we live in love eternal.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem10"></a>THE POET’S THEME</h2> - -<blockquote><p>What is the explanation of the strange silence of -American poets concerning American triumphs on sea and land?</p> -<p style="text-align: right"><i>Literary Digest</i>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p class="poetry">Why should the poet of these pregnant times<br -/> -Be asked to sing of war’s unholy crimes?</p> -<p class="poetry">To laud and eulogize the trade which thrives<br -/> -On horrid holocausts of human lives?</p> -<p class="poetry">Man was a fighting beast when earth was -young,<br /> -And war the only theme when Homer sung.</p> -<p class="poetry">’Twixt might and might the equal contest -lay,<br /> -Not so the battles of our modern day.</p> -<p class="poetry">Too often now the conquering hero struts<br /> -A Gulliver among the Liliputs.</p> -<p class="poetry">Success no longer rests on skill or fate,<br /> -But on the movements of a syndicate.</p> -<p class="poetry">Of old men fought and deemed it right and -just.<br /> -To-day the warrior fights because he must,</p> -<p class="poetry">And in his secret soul feels shame because<br -/> -He desecrates the higher manhood’s laws</p> -<p class="poetry">Oh! there are worthier themes for poet’s -pen<br /> -In this great hour, than bloody deeds of men</p> -<p class="poetry">Or triumphs of one hero (though he be<br /> -Deserving song for his humility):</p> -<p class="poetry">The rights of many—not the worth of -one;<br /> -The coming issues—not the battle done;</p> -<p class="poetry">The awful opulence, and awful need;<br /> -The rise of brotherhood—the fall of greed,</p> -<p class="poetry">The soul of man replete with God’s own -force,<br /> -The call “to heights,” and not the cry “to -horse,”—</p> -<p class="poetry">Are there not better themes in this great -age<br /> -For pen of poet, or for voice of sage</p> -<p class="poetry">Than those old tales of killing? Song is dumb<br -/> -Only that greater song in time may come.</p> -<p class="poetry">When comes the bard, he whom the world waits -for,<br /> -He will not sing of War.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem11"></a>SONG OF THE SPIRIT</h2> - -<p class="poetry">All the aim of life is just<br /> - Getting back to God.<br /> -Spirit casting off its dust,<br /> - Getting back to God.<br /> -Every grief we have to bear<br /> -Disappointment, cross, despair<br /> -Each is but another stair<br /> - Climbing back to God.</p> -<p class="poetry">Step by step and mile by mile—<br /> - Getting back to God;<br /> -Nothing else is worth the while—<br /> - Getting back to God.<br /> -Light and shadow fill each day<br /> -Joys and sorrows pass away,<br /> -Smile at all, and smiling, say,<br /> - Getting back to God.</p> -<p class="poetry">Do not wear a mournful face<br /> - Getting back to God;<br /> -Scatter sunshine on the place<br /> - Going back to God;<br /> -Take what pleasure you can find,<br /> -But where’er your paths may wind.<br /> -Keep the purpose well in mind,—<br /> - Getting back to God.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem12"></a>WOMANHOOD</h2> - -<p class="poetry">She must be honest, both in thought and -deed,<br /> -Of generous impulse, and above all greed;<br /> -Not seeking praise, or place, or power, or pelf,<br /> -But life’s best blessings for her higher self,<br /> -Which means the best for all.<br /> - She must have faith,<br /> -To make good friends of Trouble, Pain, and Death,<br /> -And understand their message.<br /> - She should be<br /> -As redolent with tender sympathy<br /> -As is a rose with fragrance.<br /> - Cheerfulness<br /> -Should be her mantle, even though her dress<br /> -May be of Sorrow’s weaving.<br /> - On her face<br /> -A loyal nature leaves its seal of grace,<br /> -And chastity is in her atmosphere.<br /> -Not that chill chastity which seems austere<br /> -(Like untrod snow-peaks, lovely to behold<br /> -Till once attained—then barren, loveless, cold);<br /> -But the white flame that feeds upon the soul<br /> -And lights the pathway to a peaceful goal.<br /> -A sense of humour, and a touch of mirth,<br /> -To brighten up the shadowy spots of earth;<br /> -And pride that passes evil—choosing good.<br /> -All these unite in perfect womanhood.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem13"></a>MORNING PRAYER</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Let me to-day do something that shall take<br -/> - A little sadness from the world’s vast -store,<br /> -And may I be so favoured as to make<br /> - Of joy’s too scanty sum a little more<br /> -Let me not hurt, by any selfish deed<br /> - Or thoughtless word, the heart of foe or friend;<br -/> -Nor would I pass, unseeing, worthy need,<br /> - Or sin by silence when I should defend.<br /> -However meagre be my worldly wealth,<br /> - Let me give something that shall aid my -kind—<br /> -A word of courage, or a thought of health,<br /> - Dropped as I pass for troubled hearts to find.<br /> -Let me to-night look back across the span<br /> - ’Twixt dawn and dark, and to my conscience -say—<br /> -Because of some good act to beast or man—<br /> - “The world is better that I lived -to-day.”</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem14"></a>THE VOICES OF THE PEOPLE</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Oh! I hear the people calling through the day -time and the night time,<br /> -They are calling, they are crying for the coming of the right -time.<br /> -It behooves you, men and women, it behooves you to be heeding,<br -/> -For there lurks a note of menace underneath their plaintive -pleading.</p> -<p class="poetry">Let the land usurpers listen, let the -greedy-hearted ponder,<br /> -On the meaning of the murmur, rising here and swelling yonder,<br -/> -Swelling louder, waxing stronger, like a storm-fed stream that -courses<br /> -Through the valleys, down abysses, growing, gaining with new -forces.</p> -<p class="poetry">Day by day the river widens, that great river of -opinion,<br /> -And its torrent beats and plunges at the base of greed’s -dominion.<br /> -Though you dam it by oppression and fling golden bridges -o’er it,<br /> -Yet the day and hour advances when in fright you’ll flee -before it.</p> -<p class="poetry">Yes, I hear the people calling, through the -night time and the day time,<br /> -Wretched toilers in life’s autumn, weary young ones in -life’s May time—<br /> -They are crying, they are calling for their share of work and -pleasure;<br /> -You are heaping high your coffers while you give them scanty -measure,—<br /> -You have stolen God’s wide acres, just to glut your swollen -purses—<br /> -Oh! restore them to His children ere their pleading turns to -curses.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem15"></a>THE WORLD GROWS BETTER</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Oh! the earth is full of sinning<br /> - And of trouble and of woe,<br /> -But the devil makes an inning<br /> - Every time we say it’s so.<br /> -And the way to set him scowling,<br /> - And to put him back a pace,<br /> -Is to stop this stupid growling,<br /> - And to look things in the face.</p> -<p class="poetry">If you glance at history’s pages,<br /> - In all lands and eras known,<br /> -You will find the buried ages<br /> - Far more wicked than our own.<br /> -As you scan each word and letter.<br /> - You will realise it more,<br /> -That the world to-day is better<br /> - Than it ever was before.</p> -<p class="poetry">There is much that needs amending<br /> - In the present time, no doubt;<br /> -There is right that needs amending,<br /> - There is wrong needs crushing out.<br /> -And we hear the groans and curses<br /> - Of the poor who starve and die,<br /> -While the men with swollen purses<br /> - In the place of hearts go by.</p> -<p class="poetry">But in spite of all the trouble<br /> - That obscures the sun to-day,<br /> -Just remember it was double<br /> - In the ages passed away.<br /> -And those wrongs shall all be righted,<br /> - Good shall dominate the land,<br /> -For the darkness now is lighted<br /> - By the torch in Science’s hand.</p> -<p class="poetry">Forth from little motes in Chaos,<br /> - We have come to what we are;<br /> -And no evil force can stay us—<br /> - We shall mount from star to star,<br /> -We shall break each bond and fetter<br /> - That has bound us heretofore;<br /> -And the earth is surely better<br /> - Than it ever was before.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem16"></a>A MAN’S IDEAL</h2> - -<p class="poetry">A lovely little keeper of the home,<br /> -Absorbed in menu books, yet erudite<br /> -When I need counsel; quick at repartee<br /> -And slow to anger. Modest as a flower,<br /> -Yet scintillant and radiant as a star.<br /> -Unmercenary in her mould of mind,<br /> -While opulent and dainty in her tastes.<br /> -A nature generous and free, albeit<br /> -The incarnation of economy.<br /> -She must be chaste as proud Diana was,<br /> -Yet warm as Venus. To all others cold<br /> -As some white glacier glittering in the sun;<br /> -To me as ardent as the sensuous rose<br /> -That yields its sweetness to the burrowing bee<br /> -All ignorant of evil in the world,<br /> -And innocent as any cloistered nun,<br /> -Yet wise as Phryne in the arts of love<br /> -When I come thirsting to her nectared lips.<br /> -Good as the best, and tempting as the worst,<br /> -A saint, a siren, and a paradox.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem17"></a>THE FIRE BRIGADE</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Hark! high o’er the rattle and clamour -and clatter<br /> - Of traffic-filled streets, do you hear that loud -noise?<br /> -And pushing and rushing to see what’s the matter,<br /> - Like herds of wild cattle, go pell-mell the -boys.</p> -<p class="poetry">There’s a fire in the city! the engines -are coming!<br /> - The bold bells are clanging, “Make way in the -street!”<br /> -The wheels of the hose-cart are spinning and humming<br /> - In time to the music of galloping feet.</p> -<p class="poetry">Make way there! make way there! the horses are -flying,<br /> - The sparks from their swift hoofs shoot higher and -higher,<br /> -The crowds are increasing—the gamins are crying:<br /> - “Hooray, boys!” “Hooray, -boys!” “Come on to the fire!”</p> -<p class="poetry">With clanging and banging and clatter and -rattle<br /> - The long ladders follow the engine and hose.<br /> -The men are all ready to dash into battle;<br /> - But will they come out again? God only -knows.</p> -<p class="poetry">At windows and doorways crowd questioning -faces;<br /> - There’s something about it that quickens -one’s breath.<br /> -How proudly the brave fellows sit in their places—<br /> - And speed to the conflict that may be their -death!</p> -<p class="poetry">Still faster and faster and faster and -faster<br /> - The grand horses thunder and leap on their way<br /> -The red foe is yonder, and may prove the master;<br /> - Turn out there, bold traffic—turn out there, I -say!</p> -<p class="poetry">For once the loud truckman knows oaths will not -matter<br /> - And reins in his horses and yields to his fate.<br -/> -The engines are coming! let pleasure-crowds scatter,<br /> - Let street car and truckman and mail waggon -wait.</p> -<p class="poetry">They speed like a comet—they pass in a -minute;<br /> - The boys follow on like a tail to a kite;<br /> -The commonplace street has but traffic now in it—<br /> - The great fire engines have swept out of sight.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem18"></a>THE TIDES</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Be careful what rubbish you toss in the -tide.<br /> - On outgoing billows it drifts from your sight,<br /> -But back on the incoming waves it may ride<br /> - And land at your threshold again before night.<br /> -Be careful what rubbish you toss in the tide.</p> -<p class="poetry">Be careful what follies you toss in -life’s sea.<br /> - On bright dancing billows they drift far away,<br /> -But back on the Nemesis tides they may be<br /> - Thrown down at your threshold an unwelcome day<br /> -Be careful what follies you toss in youth’s sea.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem19"></a>WHEN THE REGIMENT CAME BACK</h2> - -<p class="poetry">All the uniforms were blue, all the swords were -bright and new,<br /> - When the regiment went marching down the street,<br -/> -All the men were hale and strong as they proudly moved along,<br -/> - Through the cheers that drowned the music of their -feet.<br /> -Oh the music of the feet keeping time to drums that beat,<br /> - Oh the splendour and the glitter of the sight,<br /> -As with swords and rifles new and in uniforms of blue<br /> - The regiment went marching to the fight!</p> -<p class="poetry">When the regiment came back all the guns and -swords were black<br /> - And the uniforms had faded out to gray,<br /> -And the faces of the men who marched through that street again<br /> - Seemed like faces of the dead who lose their way.<br -/> -For the dead who lose their way cannot look more wan and gray.<br -/> - Oh the sorrow and the pity of the sight,<br /> -Oh the weary lagging feet out of step with drums that beat,<br /> - As the regiment comes marching from the fight.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem20"></a>WOMAN TO MAN</h2> - -<blockquote><p>Woman is man’s enemy, rival, and -competitor.—<span class="smcap">John j. Ingalls</span>.</p> -</blockquote> -<p class="poetry">You do but jest, sir, and you jest not well,<br -/> -How could the hand be enemy of the arm,<br /> -Or seed and sod be rivals! How could light<br /> -Feel jealousy of heat, plant of the leaf,<br /> -Or competition dwell ’twixt lip and smile?<br /> -Are we not part and parcel of yourselves?<br /> -Like strands in one great braid we entertwine<br /> -And make the perfect whole. You could not be,<br /> -Unless we gave you birth; we are the soil<br /> -From which you sprang, yet sterile were that soil<br /> -Save as you planted. (Though in the Book we read<br /> -One woman bore a child with no man’s aid,<br /> -We find no record of a man-child born<br /> -Without the aid of woman! Fatherhood<br /> -Is but a small achievement at the best,<br /> -While motherhood comprises heaven and hell.)<br /> -This ever-growing argument of sex<br /> -Is most unseemly, and devoid of sense.<br /> -Why waste more time in controversy, when<br /> -There is not time enough for all of love,<br /> -Our rightful occupation in this life?<br /> -Why prate of our defects, of where we fail,<br /> -When just the story of our worth would need<br /> -Eternity for telling, and our best<br /> -Development comes ever through your praise,<br /> -As through our praise you reach your highest self?<br /> -Oh! had you not been miser of your praise<br /> -And let our virtues be their own reward,<br /> -The old-established order of the world<br /> -Would never have been changed. Small blame is ours<br /> -For this unsexing of ourselves, and worse.<br /> -Effeminising of the male. We were<br /> -Content, sir, till you starved us, heart and brain.<br /> -All we have done, or wise, or otherwise,<br /> -Traced to the root, was done for love of you.<br /> -Let us taboo all vain comparisons,<br /> -And go forth as God meant us, hand in hand,<br /> -Companions, mates, and comrades evermore;<br /> -Two parts of one divinely ordained whole.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem21"></a>THE TRAVELLER</h2> - -<p>Reply to Rudyard Kipling’s “He travels the fastest -who travels alone.”</p> -<p class="poetry">Who travels alone with his eyes on the -heights,<br /> -Though he laughs in the day time oft weeps in the nights;</p> -<p class="poetry">For courage goes down at the set of the sun,<br -/> -When the toil of the journey is all borne by one.</p> -<p class="poetry">He speeds but to grief though full gaily he -ride<br /> -Who travels alone without love at his side.</p> -<p class="poetry">Who travels alone without lover or friend<br /> -But hurries from nothing, to naught at the end.</p> -<p class="poetry">Though great be his winnings and high be his -goal,<br /> -He is bankrupt in wisdom and beggared in soul.</p> -<p class="poetry">Life’s one gift of value to him is denied<br /> -Who travels alone without love at his side.</p> -<p class="poetry">It is easy enough in this world to make -haste<br /> -If one live for that purpose—but think of the waste;</p> -<p class="poetry">For life is a poem to leisurely read,<br /> -And the joy of the journey lies not in its speed.</p> -<p class="poetry">Oh! vain his achievement and petty his pride<br -/> -Who travels alone without love at his side.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem22"></a>THE EARTH</h2> - -<p class="poetry">The earth is yours and mine,<br /> - Our God’s bequest.<br /> -That testament divine<br /> - Who dare contest?</p> -<p class="poetry">Usurpers of the earth,<br /> - We claim our share.<br /> -We are of royal birth.<br /> - Beware! beware!</p> -<p class="poetry">Unloose the hand of greed<br /> - From God’s fair land,<br /> -We claim but what we need—<br /> - That, we demand.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem23"></a>NOW</h2> - -<p class="poetry">I leave with God to-morrow’s where and -how,<br /> -And do concern myself but with the Now,<br /> -That little word, though half the future’s length,<br /> -Well used, holds twice its meaning and its strength.</p> -<p class="poetry">Like one blindfolded groping out his way,<br /> -I will not try to touch beyond to-day.<br /> -Since all the future is concealed from sight<br /> -I need but strive to make the next step right.</p> -<p class="poetry">That done, the next, and so on, till I find<br -/> -Perchance some day I am no longer blind,<br /> -And looking up, behold a radiant Friend<br /> -Who says, “Rest, now, for you have reached the -end.”</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem24"></a>YOU AND TO-DAY</h2> - -<p class="poetry">With every rising of the sun<br /> -Think of your life as just begun.</p> -<p class="poetry">The past has shrived and buried deep<br /> -All yesterdays—there let them sleep,</p> -<p class="poetry">Nor seek to summon back one ghost<br /> -Of that innumerable host.</p> -<p class="poetry">Concern yourself with but to-day;<br /> -Woo it and teach it to obey</p> -<p class="poetry">Your wish and will. Since time began<br -/> -To-day has been the friend of man.</p> -<p class="poetry">But in his blindness and his sorrow<br /> -He looks to yesterday and to-morrow.</p> -<p class="poetry">You and to-day! a soul sublime<br /> -And the great pregnant hour of time.</p> -<p class="poetry">With God between to bind the train,<br /> -Go forth, I say—attain—attain.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem25"></a>THE REASON</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Do you know what moves the tides<br /> - As they swing from low to high?<br /> -’Tis the love, love, love,<br /> - Of the moon within the sky.<br /> -Oh! they follow where she guides,<br /> -Do the faithful-hearted tides.</p> -<p class="poetry">Do you know what moves the earth<br /> - Out of winter into spring?<br /> -’Tis the love, love, love,<br /> - Of the sun, the mighty king.<br /> -Oh the rapture that finds birth<br /> -In the kiss of sun and earth!</p> -<p class="poetry">Do you know what makes sweet songs<br /> - Ring for me above earth’s strife?<br /> -’Tis the love, love, love,<br /> - That you bring into my life,<br /> -Oh the glory of the songs<br /> -In the heart where love belongs!</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem26"></a>MISSION</h2> - -<p class="poetry">If you are sighing for a lofty work,<br /> - If great ambitions dominate your mind,<br /> -Just watch yourself and see you do not shirk<br /> - The common little ways of being kind.</p> -<p class="poetry">If you are dreaming of a future goal,<br /> - When, crowned with glory, men shall own your -power,<br /> -Be careful that you let no struggling soul<br /> - Go by unaided in the present hour.</p> -<p class="poetry">If you are moved to pity for the earth,<br /> - And long to aid it, do not look so high,<br /> -You pass some poor, dumb creature faint with thirst—<br /> - All life is equal in the eternal eye.</p> -<p class="poetry">If you would help to make the wrong things right,<br /> - Begin at home: there lies a lifetime’s -toil.<br /> -Weed your own garden fair for all men’s sight,<br /> - Before you plan to till another’s soil.</p> -<p class="poetry">God chooses His own leaders in the world,<br /> - And from the rest He asks but willing hands.<br /> -As mighty mountains into place are hurled,<br /> - While patient tides may only shape the sands.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem27"></a>REPETITION</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Over and over and over<br /> - These truths I will weave in song—<br /> -That God’s great plan needs you and me,<br /> -That will is greater than destiny,<br /> - And that love moves the world along.</p> -<p class="poetry">However mankind may doubt it,<br /> - It shall listen and hear my creed—<br /> -That God may ever be found within,<br /> -That the worship of self is the only sin,<br /> - And the only devil is greed.</p> -<p class="poetry">Over and over and over<br /> - These truths I will say and sing,<br /> -That love is mightier far than hate,<br /> -That a man’s own thought is a man’s own fate,<br /> - And that life is a goodly thing.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem28"></a>BEGIN THE DAY</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Begin each morning with a talk to God,<br /> -And ask for your divine inheritance<br /> -Of usefulness, contentment, and success.<br /> -Resign all fear, all doubt, and all despair.<br /> -The stars doubt not, and they are undismayed,<br /> -Though whirled through space for countless centuries,<br /> -And told not why or wherefore: and the sea<br /> -With everlasting ebb and flow obeys,<br /> -And leaves the purpose with the unseen Cause.<br /> -The star sheds radiance on a million worlds,<br /> -The sea is prodigal with waves, and yet<br /> -No lustre from the star is lost, and not<br /> -One drop is missing from the ocean tides.<br /> -Oh! brother to the star and sea, know all<br /> -God’s opulence is held in trust for those<br /> -Who wait serenely and who work in faith.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem29"></a>WORDS</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Words are great forces in the realm of life:<br -/> - Be careful of their use. Who talks of hate,<br -/> -Of poverty, of sickness, but sets rife<br /> - These very elements to mar his fate.</p> -<p class="poetry">When love, health, happiness, and plenty -hear<br /> - Their names repeated over day by day,<br /> -They wing their way like answering fairies near,<br /> - Then nestle down within our homes to stay.</p> -<p class="poetry">Who talks of evil conjures into shape<br /> - The formless thing and gives it life and scope.<br -/> -This is the law: then let no word escape<br /> - That does not breathe of everlasting hope.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem30"></a>FATE AND I</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Wise men tell me thou, O Fate,<br /> -Art invincible and great.</p> -<p class="poetry">Well, I own thy prowess; still<br /> -Dare I flout thee with my will</p> -<p class="poetry">Thou canst shatter in a span<br /> -All the earthly pride of man.</p> -<p class="poetry">Outward things thou canst control;<br /> -But stand back—I rule my soul!</p> -<p class="poetry">Death? ’Tis such a little -thing—<br /> -Scarcely worth the mentioning.</p> -<p class="poetry">What has death to do with me,<br /> -Save to set my spirit free?</p> -<p class="poetry">Something in me dwells, O Fate,<br /> -That can rise and dominate</p> -<p class="poetry">Loss, and sorrow, and disaster,—<br /> -How, then, Fate, art thou my master?</p> -<p class="poetry">In the great primeval morn<br /> -My immortal will was born,</p> -<p class="poetry">Part of that stupendous Cause<br /> -Which conceived the Solar Laws,</p> -<p class="poetry">Lit the suns and filled the seas,<br /> -Royalest of pedigrees.</p> -<p class="poetry">That great Cause was Love, the Source<br /> -Who most loves has most of Force.</p> -<p class="poetry">He who harbours Hate one hour<br /> -Saps the soul of Peace and Power.</p> -<p class="poetry">He who will not hate his foe<br /> -Need not dread life’s hardest blow.</p> -<p class="poetry">In the realm of brotherhood<br /> -Wishing no man aught but good,</p> -<p class="poetry">Naught but good can come to me—<br /> -This is Love’s supreme decree.</p> -<p class="poetry">Since I bar my door to Hate,<br /> -What have I to fear, O Fate?</p> -<p class="poetry">Since I fear not—Fate I vow,<br /> -I the ruler am, not thou!</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem31"></a>ATTAINMENT</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Use all your hidden forces. Do not -miss<br /> -The purpose of this life, and do not wait<br /> -For circumstance to mould or change your fate;<br /> -In your own self lies Destiny. Let this<br /> -Vast truth cast out all fear, all prejudice,<br /> -All hesitation. Know that you are great,<br /> -Great with divinity. So dominate<br /> -Environment, and enter into bliss.<br /> -Love largely and hate nothing. Hold no aim<br /> -That does not chord with universal good.<br /> -Hear what the voices of the Silence say—<br /> -All joys are yours if you put forth your claim.<br /> -Once let the spiritual laws be understood,<br /> -Material things must answer and obey.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem32"></a>A PLEA TO PEACE</h2> - -<p class="poetry">When mighty issues loom before us, all<br /> -The petty great men of the day seem small,<br /> -Like pigmies standing in a blaze of light<br /> -Before some grim majestic mountain-height.<br /> -War, with its bloody and impartial hand,<br /> -Reveals the hidden weakness of a land,<br /> -Uncrowns the heroes trusting Peace has made<br /> -Of men whose honour is a thing of trade,<br /> -And turns the searchlight full on many a place<br /> -Where proud conventions long have masked disgrace.<br /> -O lovely Peace! as thou art fair be wise.<br /> -Demand great men, and great men shall arise<br /> -To do thy bidding. Even as warriors come,<br /> -Swift at the call of bugle and of drum,<br /> -So at the voice of Peace, imperative<br /> -As bugle’s call, shall heroes spring to live<br /> -For country and for thee. In every land,<br /> -In every age, men are what times demand.<br /> -Demand the best, O Peace, and teach thy sons<br /> -They need not rush in front of death-charged guns<br /> -With murder in their hearts to prove their worth.<br /> -The grandest heroes who have graced the earth<br /> -Were love-filled souls who did not seek the fray,<br /> -But chose the safe, hard, high, and lonely way<br /> -Of selfless labour for a suffering world.<br /> -Beneath our glorious flag again unfurled<br /> -In victory such heroes wait to be<br /> -Called into bloodless action, Peace, by thee.<br /> -Be thou insistent in thy stern demand,<br /> -And wise, great men shall rise up in the land.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem33"></a>PRESUMPTION</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Whenever I am prone to doubt or -wonder—<br /> - I check myself, and say, “That mighty One<br -/> -Who made the solar system cannot blunder—<br /> - And for the best all things are being -done.”<br /> -Who set the stars on their eternal courses<br /> - Has fashioned this strange earth by some sure -plan.<br /> -Bow low, bow low to those majestic forces,<br /> - Nor dare to doubt their wisdom, puny man.</p> -<p class="poetry">You cannot put one little star in motion,<br /> - You cannot shape one single forest leaf,<br /> -Nor fling a mountain up, nor sink an ocean,<br /> - Presumptuous pigmy, large with unbelief.<br /> -ou cannot bring one dawn of regal splendour,<br /> - Nor bid the day to shadowy twilight fall,<br /> -Nor send the pale moon forth with radiance tender—<br /> - And dare you doubt the One who has done all?</p> -<p class="poetry">“So much is wrong, there is such -pain—such sinning.”<br /> - Yet look again—behold how much is right!<br /> -And He who formed the world from its beginning<br /> - Knows how to guide it upward to the light.<br /> -Your task, O man, is not to carp and cavil<br /> - At God’s achievements, but with purpose -strong<br /> -To cling to good, and turn away from evil.<br /> - That is the way to help the world along.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem34"></a>HIGH NOON</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Time’s finger on the dial of my life<br -/> -Points to high noon! and yet the half-spent day<br /> -Leaves less than half remaining, for the dark,<br /> -Bleak shadows of the grave engulf the end.<br /> -To those who burn the candle to the stick,<br /> -The sputtering socket yields but little light.<br /> -Long life is sadder than an early death.<br /> -We cannot count on ravelled threads of age<br /> -Whereof to weave a fabric. We must use<br /> -The warp and woof the ready present yields<br /> -And toil while daylight lasts. When I bethink<br /> -How brief the past, the future, still more brief<br /> -Calls on to action, action! Not for me<br /> -Is time for retrospection or for dreams,<br /> -Not time for self-laudation or remorse.<br /> -Have I done nobly? Then I must not let<br /> -Dead yesterday unborn to-morrow shame.<br /> -Have I done wrong? Well, let the bitter taste<br /> -Of fruit that turned to ashes on my lip<br /> -Be my reminder in temptation’s hour,<br /> -And keep me silent when I would condemn.<br /> -Sometimes it takes the acid of a sin<br /> -To cleanse the clouded windows of our souls<br /> -So pity may shine through them.</p> -<p class="poetry"> Looking -back,<br /> -My faults and errors seem like stepping-stones<br /> -That led the way to knowledge of the truth<br /> -And made me value virtue; sorrows shine<br /> -In rainbow colours o’er the gulf of years,<br /> -Where lie forgotten pleasures.</p> -<p class="poetry"> Looking -forth,<br /> -Out to the western sky still bright with noon,<br /> -I feel well spurred and booted for the strife<br /> -That ends not till Nirvana is attained.</p> -<p class="poetry">Battling with fate, with men, and with -myself,<br /> -Up the steep summit of my life’s forenoon,<br /> -Three things I learned, three things of precious worth,<br /> -To guide and help me down the western slope.<br /> -I have learned how to pray, and toil, and save:<br /> -To pray for courage to receive what comes,<br /> -Knowing what comes to be divinely sent;<br /> -To toil for universal good, since thus<br /> -And only thus can good come unto me;<br /> -To save, by giving whatsoe’er I have<br /> -To those who have not—this alone is gain.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem35"></a>THOUGHT-MAGNETS</h2> - -<p class="poetry">With each strong thought, with every earnest -longing<br /> - For aught thou deemest needful to thy soul,<br /> -Invisible vast forces are set thronging<br /> - Between thee and that goal</p> -<p class="poetry">’Tis only when some hidden weakness -alters<br /> - And changes thy desire, or makes it less,<br /> -That this mysterious army ever falters<br /> - Or stops short of success.</p> -<p class="poetry">Thought is a magnet; and the longed-for -pleasure,<br /> - Or boon, or aim, or object, is the steel;<br /> -And its attainment hangs but on the measure<br /> - Of what thy soul can feel.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem36"></a>SMILES</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Smile a little, smile a little,<br /> - As you go along,<br /> -Not alone when life is pleasant,<br /> - But when things go wrong.<br /> -Care delights to see you frowning,<br /> - Loves to hear you sigh;<br /> -Turn a smiling face upon her—<br /> - Quick the dame will fly.</p> -<p class="poetry">Smile a little, smile a little,<br /> - All along the road;<br /> -Every life must have its burden,<br /> - Every heart its load.<br /> -Why sit down in gloom and darkness<br /> - With your grief to sup?<br /> -As you drink Fate’s bitter tonic,<br /> - Smile across the cup.</p> -<p class="poetry">Smile upon the troubled pilgrims<br /> - Whom you pass and meet;<br /> -Frowns are thorns, and smiles are blossoms<br /> - Oft for weary feet.<br /> -Do not make the way seem harder<br /> - By a sullen face;<br /> -Smile a little, smile a little,<br /> - Brighten up the place.</p> -<p class="poetry">Smile upon your undone labour;<br /> - Not for one who grieves<br /> -O’er his task waits wealth or glory;<br /> - He who smiles achieves.<br /> -Though you meet with loss and sorrow<br /> - In the passing years,<br /> -Smile a little, smile a little,<br /> - Even through your tears.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem37"></a>THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Man has explored all countries and all -lands,<br /> -And made his own the secrets of each clime.<br /> -Now, ere the world has fully reached its prime,<br /> -The oval earth lies compassed with steel bands,<br /> -The seas are slaves to ships that touch all strands,<br /> - And even the haughty elements, sublime<br /> - And bold, yield him their secrets for all time,<br -/> -And speed like lackeys forth at his commands.</p> -<p class="poetry">Still, though he search from shore to distant -shore,<br /> - And no strange realms, no unlocated plains<br /> -Are left for his attainment and control,<br /> -Yet is there one more kingdom to explore.<br /> - Go, know thyself, O man! there yet remains<br /> -The undiscovered country of thy soul!</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem38"></a>THE UNIVERSAL ROUTE</h2> - -<p class="poetry">As we journey along, with a laugh and a -song,<br /> - We see, on youth’s flower-decked slope,<br /> -Like a beacon of light, shining fair on the sight,<br /> - The beautiful Station of Hope.</p> -<p class="poetry">But the wheels of old Time roll along as we -climb,<br /> - And our youth speeds away on the years;<br /> -And with hearts that are numb with life’s sorrows we -come<br /> - To the mist-covered Station of Tears.</p> -<p class="poetry">Still onward we pass, where the milestones, -alas!<br /> - Are the tombs of our dead, to the West,<br /> -Where glitters and gleams, in the dying sunbeams,<br /> - The sweet, silent Station of Rest.</p> -<p class="poetry">All rest is but change, and no grave can estrange<br /> - The soul from its Parent above;<br /> -And, scorning the rod, it soars back to its God,<br /> - To the limitless City of Love.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem39"></a>UNANSWERED PRAYERS</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Like some schoolmaster, kind in being stern,<br -/> -Who hears the children crying o’er their slates<br /> -And calling, “Help me, master!” yet helps not,<br /> -Since in his silence and refusal lies<br /> -Their self-development, so God abides<br /> -Unheeding many prayers. He is not deaf<br /> -To any cry sent up from earnest hearts;<br /> -He hears and strengthens when He must deny.<br /> -He sees us weeping over life’s hard sums;<br /> -But should He give the key and dry our tears,<br /> -What would it profit us when school were done<br /> -And not one lesson mastered?</p> -<p class="poetry"> What a -world<br /> -Were this if all our prayers were answered. Not<br /> -In famed Pandora’s box were such vast ills<br /> -As lie in human hearts. Should our desires,<br /> -Voiced one by one in prayer, ascend to God<br /> -And come back as events shaped to our wish,<br /> -What chaos would result!</p> -<p class="poetry"> In my -fierce youth<br /> -I sighed out breath enough to move a fleet,<br /> -Voicing wild prayers to heaven for fancied boons<br /> -Which were denied; and that denial bends<br /> -My knee to prayers of gratitude each day<br /> -Of my maturer years. Yet from those prayers<br /> -I rose alway regirded for the strife<br /> -And conscious of new strength. Pray on, sad heart,<br /> -That which thou pleadest for may not be given,<br /> -But in the lofty altitude where souls<br /> -Who supplicate God’s grace are lifted, there<br /> -Thou shalt find help to bear thy daily lot<br /> -Which is not elsewhere found.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem40"></a>THANKSGIVING</h2> - -<p class="poetry">We walk on starry fields of white<br /> - And do not see the daisies,<br /> -For blessings common in our sight<br /> - We rarely offer praises.<br /> -We sigh for some supreme delight<br /> - To crown our lives with splendour,<br /> -And quite ignore our daily store<br /> - Of pleasures sweet and tender.</p> -<p class="poetry">Our cares are bold and push their way<br /> - Upon our thought and feeling;<br /> -They hang about us all the day,<br /> - Our time from pleasure stealing.<br /> -So unobtrusive many a joy<br /> - We pass by and forget it,<br /> -But worry strives to own our lives,<br /> - And conquers if we let it.</p> -<p class="poetry">There’s not a day in all the year<br /> - But holds some hidden pleasure,<br /> -And, looking back, joys oft appear<br /> - To brim the past’s wide measure.<br /> -But blessings are like friends, I hold,<br /> - Who love and labour near us.<br /> -We ought to raise our notes of praise<br /> - While living hearts can hear us.</p> -<p class="poetry">Full many a blessing wears the guise<br /> - Of worry or of trouble;<br /> -Far-seeing is the soul, and wise,<br /> - Who knows the mask is double.<br /> -But he who has the faith and strength<br /> - To thank his God for sorrow<br /> -Has found a joy without alloy<br /> - To gladden every morrow.</p> -<p class="poetry">We ought to make the moments notes<br /> - Of happy, glad Thanksgiving;<br /> -The hours and days a silent phrase<br /> - Of music we are living.<br /> -And so the theme should swell and grow<br /> - As weeks and months pass o’er us,<br /> -And rise sublime at this good time,<br /> - A grand Thanksgiving chorus.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem41"></a>CONTRASTS</h2> - -<p class="poetry">I see the tall church steeples—<br /> - They reach so far, so far;<br /> -But the eyes of my heart see the world’s great mart<br /> -Where the starving people are.</p> -<p class="poetry"> I hear the church bells -ringing<br /> - Their chimes on the morning air;<br /> -But my soul’s sad ear is hurt to hear<br /> - The poor man’s cry of despair.</p> -<p class="poetry">Thicker and thicker the churches,<br /> - Nearer and nearer the sky—<br /> -But alack for their creeds while the poor man’s needs<br /> - Grow deeper as years roll by!</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem42"></a>THY SHIP</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Hadst thou a ship, in whose vast hold lay -stored<br /> -The priceless riches of all climes and lands,<br /> -Say, wouldst thou let it float upon the seas<br /> -Unpiloted, of fickle winds the sport,<br /> -And of wild waves and hidden rocks the prey?</p> -<p class="poetry">Thine is that ship; and in its depths -concealed<br /> -Lies all the wealth of this vast universe—<br /> -Yea, lies some part of God’s omnipotence,<br /> -The legacy divine of every soul.<br /> -Thy will, O man, thy will is that great ship,<br /> -And yet behold it drifting here and there—<br /> -One moment lying motionless in port,<br /> -Then on high seas by sudden impulse flung,<br /> -Then drying on the sands, and yet again<br /> -Sent forth on idle quests to no-man’s land<br /> -To carry nothing and to nothing bring;<br /> -Till, worn and fretted by the aimless strife<br /> -And buffeted by vacillating winds,<br /> -It founders on a rock, or springs a leak,<br /> -With all its unused treasures in the hold.</p> -<p class="poetry">Go save thy ship, thou sluggard; take the -wheel<br /> -And steer to knowledge, glory, and success.<br /> -Great mariners have made the pathway plain<br /> -For thee to follow; hold thou to the course<br /> -Of Concentration Channel, and all things<br /> -Shall come in answer to thy swerveless wish<br /> -As comes the needle to the magnet’s call,<br /> -Or sunlight to the prisoned blade of grass<br /> -That yearns all winter for the kiss of spring.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem43"></a>LIFE</h2> - -<p class="poetry">All in the dark we grope along,<br /> - And if we go amiss<br /> -We learn at least which path is wrong,<br /> - And there is gain in this.</p> -<p class="poetry">We do not always win the race<br /> - By only running right;<br /> -We have to tread the mountain’s base<br /> - Before we reach its height.</p> -<p class="poetry">The Christs alone no errors made;<br /> - So often had they trod<br /> -The paths that lead through light and shade,<br /> - They had become as God.</p> -<p class="poetry">As Krishna, Buddha, Christ again,<br /> - They passed along the way,<br /> -And left those mighty truths which men<br /> - But dimly grasp to-day.</p> -<p class="poetry">But he who loves himself the last<br /> - And knows the use of pain,<br /> -Though strewn with errors all his past,<br /> - He surely shall attain.</p> -<p class="poetry">Some souls there are that needs must taste<br -/> - Of wrong, ere choosing right;<br /> -We should not call those years a waste<br /> - Which led us to the light.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem44"></a>A MARINE ETCHING</h2> - -<p class="poetry">A yacht from its harbour ropes pulled free,<br -/> -And leaped like a steed o’er the race-track blue,<br /> -Then up behind her the dust of the sea,<br /> -A gray fog, drifted, and hid her from view.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem45"></a>“LOVE THYSELF LAST”</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Love thyself last. Look near, behold thy -duty<br /> - To those who walk beside thee down life’s -road.<br /> -Make glad their days by little acts of beauty<br /> - And help them bear the burden of earth’s -load.</p> -<p class="poetry">Love thyself last. Look far and find the -stranger<br /> - Who staggers ’neath his sin and his -despair;<br /> -Go, lend a hand, and lead him out of danger,<br /> - To heights where he may see the world is fair.</p> -<p class="poetry">Love thyself last. The vastnesses above -thee<br /> - Are filled with Spirit-Forces; strong and pure<br /> -And fervently these faithful friends shall love thee<br /> - Keep thou thy watch o’er others and -endure.</p> -<p class="poetry">Love thyself last, and oh! such joy shall thrill thee<br /> - As never yet to selfish souls was given;<br /> -Whate’er thy lot, a perfect peace will fill thee,<br /> - And earth shall seem the ante-room of Heaven.</p> -<p class="poetry">Love thyself last, and thou shalt grow in -spirit<br /> - To see, to hear, to know, and understand.<br /> -The message of the stars, lo, thou shalt hear it,<br /> - And all God’s joys shall be at thy -command.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem46"></a>CHRISTMAS FANCIES</h2> - -<p class="poetry">When Christmas bells are swinging above the -fields of snow,<br /> -We hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago,<br /> - And etched on vacant places<br /> - Are half-forgotten faces<br /> -Of friends we used to cherish, and loves we used to -know—<br /> -When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow.</p> -<p class="poetry">Uprising from the ocean of the present surging -near,<br /> -We see, with strange emotion, that is not free from fear,<br /> - That continent Elysian<br /> - Long vanished from our vision,<br /> -Youth’s lovely lost Atlantis, so mourned for and so -dear,<br /> -Uprising from the ocean of the present surging near.</p> -<p class="poetry">When gloomy, gray Decembers are roused to Christmas -mirth,<br /> -The dullest life remembers there once was joy on earth,<br /> - And draws from youth’s recesses<br /> - Some memory it possesses,<br /> -And, gazing through the lens of time, exaggerates its worth,<br -/> -When gloomy, gray December is roused to Christmas mirth.</p> -<p class="poetry">When hanging up the holly or mistletoe, I -wis<br /> -Each heart recalls some folly that lit the world with bliss.<br -/> - Not all the seers and sages<br /> - With wisdom of the ages<br /> -Can give the mind such pleasure as memories of that kiss<br /> -When hanging up the holly or mistletoe, I wis.</p> -<p class="poetry">For life was made for loving, and love alone -repays,<br /> -As passing years are proving, for all of Time’s sad -ways.<br /> - There lies a sting in pleasure,<br /> - And fame gives shallow measure,<br /> -And wealth is but a phantom that mocks the restless days,<br /> -For life was made for loving, and only loving pays.</p> -<p class="poetry">When Christmas bells are pelting the air with silver -chimes,<br /> -And silences are melting to soft, melodious rhymes,<br /> - Let Love, the world’s beginning,<br /> - End fear and hate and sinning;<br /> -Let Love, the God Eternal, be worshipped in all climes<br /> -When Christmas bells are pelting the air with silver chimes.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem47"></a>THE RIVER</h2> - -<p class="poetry">I am a river flowing from God’s sea<br /> -Through devious ways. He mapped my course for me;<br /> -I cannot change it; mine alone the toil<br /> -To keep the waters free from grime and soil.<br /> -The winding river ends where it began;<br /> -And when my life has compassed its brief span<br /> -I must return to that mysterious source.<br /> -So let me gather daily on my course<br /> -The perfume from the blossoms as I pass,<br /> -Balm from the pines, and healing from the grass,<br /> -And carry down my current as I go<br /> -Not common stones but precious gems to show;<br /> -And tears (the holy water from sad eyes)<br /> -Back to God’s sea, from which all rivers rise,<br /> -Let me convey, not blood from wounded hearts,<br /> -Nor poison which the upas tree imparts.<br /> -When over flowery vales I leap with joy,<br /> -Let me not devastate them, nor destroy,<br /> -But rather leave them fairer to the sight;<br /> -Mine be the lot to comfort and delight.<br /> -And if down awful chasms I needs must leap,<br /> -Let me not murmur at my lot, but sweep<br /> -On bravely to the end without one fear,<br /> -Knowing that He who planned my ways stands near.<br /> -Love sent me forth, to Love I go again,<br /> -For Love is all, and over all. Amen.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem48"></a>SORRY</h2> - -<p class="poetry">There is much that makes me sorry as I journey -down life’s way,<br /> -And I seem to see more pathos in poor human lives each day.<br /> -I’m sorry for the strong, brave men who shield the weak -from harm,<br /> -But who, in their own troubled hours, find no protecting arm.</p> -<p class="poetry">I’m sorry for the victors who have -reached success, to stand<br /> -As targets for the arrows shot by envious failure’s -hand.<br /> -I’m sorry for the generous hearts who freely shared their -wine,<br /> -But drink alone the gall of tears in fortune’s drear -decline.</p> -<p class="poetry">I’m sorry for the souls who build their own -fame’s funeral pyre,<br /> -Derided by the scornful throng like ice deriding fire.<br /> -I’m sorry for the conquering ones who know not sin’s -defeat,<br /> -But daily tread down fierce desire ’neath scorched and -bleeding feet.</p> -<p class="poetry">I’m sorry for the anguished hearts that -break with passion’s strain,<br /> -But I’m sorrier for the poor starved souls that never knew -love’s pain,<br /> -Who hunger on through barren years not tasting joys they -crave,<br /> -For sadder far is such a lot than weeping o’er a grave.</p> -<p class="poetry">I’m sorry for the souls that come -unwelcomed into birth,<br /> -I’m sorry for the unloved old who cumber up the earth,<br -/> -I’m sorry for the suffering poor in life’s great -maelstrom hurled—<br /> -In truth, I’m sorry for them all who make this aching -world.</p> -<p class="poetry">But underneath whate’er seems sad and is not -understood,<br /> -I know there lies hid from our sight a mighty germ of good.<br /> -And this belief stands firm by me, my sermon, motto, -text—<br /> -The sorriest things in this life will seem grandest in the -next.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem49"></a>AMBITION’S TRAIL</h2> - -<p class="poetry">If all the end of this continuous striving<br -/> - Were simply <i>to attain</i>,<br /> -How poor would seem the planning and contriving,<br /> -The endless urging and the hurried driving,<br /> - Of body, heart, and brain!</p> -<p class="poetry">But ever in the wake of true achieving<br /> - There shines this glowing trail—<br /> -Some other soul will be spurred on, conceiving<br /> -New strength and hope, in its own power believing,<br /> - Because <i>thou</i> didst not fail.</p> -<p class="poetry">Not thine alone the glory, nor the sorrow,<br -/> - If thou dost miss the goal;<br /> -Undreamed of lives in many a far to-morrow<br /> -From thee their weakness or their force shall borrow—<br /> - On, on, ambitious soul.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem50"></a>UNCONTROLLED</h2> - -<p class="poetry">The mighty forces of mysterious space<br /> - Are one by one subdued by lordly man.<br /> - The awful lightning that for eons ran<br /> - Their devastating and untrammelled race,<br /> -Now bear his messages from place to place<br /> - Like carrier doves. The winds lead on his -van;<br /> - The lawless elements no longer can<br /> -Resist his strength, but yield with sullen grace.</p> -<p class="poetry">His bold feet scaling heights before untrod,<br -/> - Light, darkness, air and water, heat and cold,<br /> - He bids go forth and bring him -power and pelf.<br /> -And yet, though ruler, king and demi-god,<br /> - He walks with his fierce passions uncontrolled,<br -/> - The conqueror of all -things—save himself.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem51"></a>WILL</h2> - -<p class="poetry">You will be what you will to be;<br /> - Let failure find its false content<br /> - In that poor word “environment,”<br /> -But spirit scorns it, and is free.</p> -<p class="poetry">It masters time, it conquers space,<br /> - It cowes that boastful trickster Chance,<br /> - And bids the tyrant Circumstance<br /> -Uncrown and fill a servant’s place.</p> -<p class="poetry">The human Will, that force unseen,<br /> - The offspring of a deathless Soul,<br /> - Can hew the way to any goal,<br /> -Though walls of granite intervene.</p> -<p class="poetry">Be not impatient in delay,<br /> - But wait as one who understands;<br /> - When spirit rises and commands,<br /> -The gods are ready to obey.</p> -<p class="poetry">The river seeking for the sea<br /> - Confronts the dam and precipice,<br /> - Yet knows it cannot fail or miss;<br /> -<i>You will be what you will to be</i>!</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem52"></a>TO AN ASTROLOGER</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Nay, seer, I do not doubt thy mystic lore,<br /> -Nor question that the tenor of my life,<br /> -Past, present, and the future, is revealed<br /> -There in my horoscope. I do believe<br /> -That yon dead moon compels the haughty seas<br /> -To ebb and flow, and that my natal star<br /> -Stands like a stern-browed sentinel in space<br /> -And challenges events; nor lets one grief,<br /> -Or joy, or failure, or success, pass on<br /> -To mar or bless my earthly lot, until<br /> -It proves its Karmic right to come to me.</p> -<p class="poetry">All this I grant, but more than this I -<i>know</i>!<br /> -Before the solar systems were conceived,<br /> -When nothing was but the unnamable,<br /> -My spirit lived, an atom of the Cause.<br /> -Through countless ages and in many forms<br /> -It has existed, ere it entered in<br /> -This human frame to serve its little day<br /> -Upon the earth. The deathless Me of me.<br /> -The spark from that great all-creative fire,<br /> -Is part of that eternal source called God,<br /> -And mightier than the universe.</p> -<p class="poetry"> Why, he<br -/> -Who knows, and knowing, never once forgets<br /> -The pedigree divine of his own soul,<br /> -Can conquer, shape, and govern destiny,<br /> -And use vast space as ’twere a board for chess<br /> -With stars for pawns; can change his horoscope<br /> -To suit his will; turn failure to success,<br /> -And from preordained sorrows, harvest joy.</p> -<p class="poetry">There is no puny planet, sun, or moon,<br /> -Or zodiacal sign which can control<br /> -The God in us! If we bring <i>that</i> to bear<br /> -Upon events, we mould them to our wish;<br /> -’Tis when the infinite ’neath the finite gropes<br /> -That men are governed by their horoscopes.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem53"></a>THE TENDRIL’S FATE</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Under the snow, in the dark and the cold,<br /> - A pale little sprout was humming;<br /> -Sweetly it sang, ’neath the frozen mould,<br /> - Of the beautiful days that were coming.</p> -<p class="poetry">“How foolish your songs!” said a -lump of clay;<br /> - “What is there, I ask, to prove them?<br /> -Just look at the walls between you and the day,<br /> - Now, have you the strength to move them?”</p> -<p class="poetry">But under the ice and under the snow<br /> - The pale little sprout kept singing,<br /> -“I cannot tell how, but I know, I know,<br /> - I know what the days are bringing.</p> -<p class="poetry">“Birds, and blossoms, and buzzing bees,<br /> - Blue, blue skies above me,<br /> -Bloom on the meadows and buds on the trees<br /> - And the great glad sun to love me.”</p> -<p class="poetry">A pebble spoke next: “You are quite -absurd,”<br /> - It said, “with your song’s -insistence;<br /> -For <i>I</i> never saw a tree or a bird,<br /> - So of course there are none in existence.”</p> -<p class="poetry">“But I know, I know,” the tendril -cried,<br /> - In beautiful sweet unreason;<br /> -Till lo! from its prison, glorified,<br /> - It burst in the glad spring season.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem54"></a>THE TIMES</h2> - -<p class="poetry"> The times are not -degenerate. Man’s faith<br /> -Mounts higher than of old. No crumbling creed<br /> -Can take from the immortal soul the need<br /> - Of that supreme Creator, God. The wraith<br /> -Of dead beliefs we cherished in our youth<br /> -Fades but to let us welcome new-born Truth.</p> -<p class="poetry"> Man may not worship at the -ancient shrine<br /> -Prone on his face, in self-accusing scorn.<br /> -That night is past. He hails a fairer morn,<br /> - And knows himself a something all divine;<br /> -Not humble worm whose heritage is sin,<br /> -But, born of God, he feels the Christ withal.</p> -<p class="poetry"> Not loud his prayers, as in the -olden time,<br /> -But deep his reverence for that mighty force,<br /> -That occult working of the great All-Source,<br /> - Which makes the present era so sublime.<br /> -Religion now means something high and broad.<br /> -And man stood never half so near to God.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem55"></a>THE QUESTION</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Beside us in our seeking after pleasures,<br /> - Through all our restless striving after fame,<br /> -Through all our search for worldly gains and treasures,<br /> - There walketh one whom no man likes to name.<br /> -Silent he follows, veiled of form and feature,<br /> - Indifferent if we sorrow or rejoice,<br /> -Yet that day comes when every living creature<br /> - Must look upon his face and hear his voice.</p> -<p class="poetry">When that day comes to you, and Death, -unmasking,<br /> - Shall bar your path, and say, “Behold the -end,”<br /> -What are the questions that he will be asking<br /> - About your past? Have you considered, -friend?<br /> -I think he will not chide you for your sinning,<br /> - Nor for your creeds or dogmas will he care;<br /> -He will but ask, “From your life’s first beginning<br -/> - How many burdens have you helped to bear?”</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem56"></a>SORROW’S USES</h2> - -<p class="poetry">The uses of sorrow I comprehend<br /> -Better and better at each year’s end.</p> -<p class="poetry">Deeper and deeper I seem to see<br /> -Why and wherefore it has to be.</p> -<p class="poetry">Only after the dark, wet days<br /> -Do we fully rejoice in the sun’s bright rays.</p> -<p class="poetry">Sweeter the crust tastes after the fast<br /> -Than the sated gourmand’s finest repast.</p> -<p class="poetry">The faintest cheer sounds never amiss<br /> -To the actor who once has heard a hiss.</p> -<p class="poetry">To one who the sadness of freedom knows,<br /> -Light seem the fetters love may impose.</p> -<p class="poetry">And he who has dwelt with his heart alone,<br -/> -Hears all the music in friendship’s tone.</p> -<p class="poetry">So better and better I comprehend<br /> -How sorrow ever would be our friend.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem57"></a>IF</h2> - -<p class="poetry">’Twixt what thou art, and what thou -wouldst be, let<br /> -No “If” arise on which to lay the blame.<br /> -Man makes a mountain of that puny word,<br /> -But, like a blade of grass before the scythe,<br /> -It falls and withers when a human will,<br /> -Stirred by creative force, sweeps toward its aim.</p> -<p class="poetry">Thou wilt be what thou couldst be. -Circumstance<br /> -Is but the toy of genius. When a soul<br /> -Burns with a god-like purpose to achieve,<br /> -All obstacles between it and its goal<br /> -Must vanish as the dew before the sun.</p> -<p class="poetry">“If” is the motto of the dilettante<br /> -And idle dreamer; ’tis the poor excuse<br /> -Of mediocrity. The truly great<br /> -Know not the word, or know it but to scorn,<br /> -Else had Joan of Arc a peasant died,<br /> -Uncrowned by glory and by men unsung.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem58"></a>WHICH ARE YOU?</h2> - -<p class="poetry">There are two kinds of people on earth -to-day;<br /> -Just two kinds of people, no more, I say.</p> -<p class="poetry">Not the sinner and saint, for it’s well -understood<br /> -The good are half bad, and the bad are half good.</p> -<p class="poetry">Not the rich and the poor, for to rate a -man’s wealth<br /> -You must first know the state of his conscience and health.</p> -<p class="poetry">Not the humble and proud, for, in life’s -little span,<br /> -Who puts on vain airs is not counted a man.</p> -<p class="poetry">Not the happy and sad, for the swift flying -years<br /> -Bring each man his laughter, and each man his tears.</p> -<p class="poetry">No; the two kinds of people on earth I mean<br /> -Are the people who lift, and the people who lean.</p> -<p class="poetry">Wherever you go, you will find the -earth’s masses<br /> -Are always divided in just these two classes.</p> -<p class="poetry">And, oddly enough, you will find too, I -ween,<br /> -There’s only one lifter to twenty who lean.</p> -<p class="poetry">In which class are you? Are you easing -the load<br /> -Of overtaxed lifters, who toil down the road?</p> -<p class="poetry">Or are you a leaner, who lets others share<br -/> -Your portion of labour and worry and care?</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem59"></a>THE CREED TO BE</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Our thoughts are moulding unmade spheres,<br /> - And, like a blessing or a curse,<br /> -They thunder down the formless years,<br /> - And ring throughout the universe.</p> -<p class="poetry">We build our futures by the shape<br /> - Of our desires, and not by acts.<br /> -There is no pathway of escape;<br /> - No priest-made creeds can alter facts.</p> -<p class="poetry">Salvation is not begged or bought;<br /> - Too long this selfish hope sufficed;<br /> -Too long man reeked with lawless thought,<br /> - And leaned upon a tortured Christ.</p> -<p class="poetry">Like shrivelled leaves, these worn-out creeds<br /> - Are dropping from Religion’s tree;<br /> -The world begins to know its needs,<br /> - And souls are crying to be free.</p> -<p class="poetry">Free from the load of fear and grief,<br /> - Man fashioned in an ignorant age;<br /> -Free from the ache of unbelief<br /> - He fled to in rebellious rage.</p> -<p class="poetry">No church can bind him to the things<br /> - That fed the first crude souls, evolved;<br /> -For, mounting up on daring wings,<br /> - He questions mysteries all unsolved.</p> -<p class="poetry">Above the chant of priests, above<br /> - The blatant voice of braying doubt,<br /> -He hears the still, small voice of Love,<br /> - Which sends its simple message out.</p> -<p class="poetry">And clearer, sweeter, day by day,<br /> - Its mandate echoes from the skies,<br /> -“Go roll the stone of self away,<br /> - And let the Christ within thee rise.”</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem60"></a>INSPIRATION</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Not like a daring, bold, aggressive boy,<br /> - Is inspiration, eager to pursue,<br /> -But rather like a maiden, fond, yet coy,<br /> - Who gives herself to him who best doth woo.</p> -<p class="poetry">Once she may smile, or thrice, thy soul to -fire,<br /> - In passing by, but when she turns her face,<br /> -Thou must persist and seek her with desire,<br /> - If thou wouldst win the favour of her grace.</p> -<p class="poetry">And if, like some winged bird, she cleaves the -air,<br /> - And leaves thee spent and stricken on the earth,<br -/> -Still must thou strive to follow even there,<br /> - That she may know thy valour and thy worth.</p> -<p class="poetry">Then shall she come unveiling all her charms,<br /> - Giving thee joy for pain, and smiles for tears;<br -/> -Then shalt thou clasp her with possessing arms,<br /> - The while she murmurs music in thine ears.</p> -<p class="poetry">But ere her kiss has faded from thy cheek,<br -/> - She shall flee from thee over hill and glade,<br /> -So must thou seek and ever seek and seek<br /> - For each new conquest of this phantom maid</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem61"></a>THE WISH</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Should some great angel say to me to-morrow,<br -/> - “Thou must re-tread thy pathway from the -start,<br /> -But God will grant, in pity, for thy sorrow,<br /> - Some one dear wish, the nearest to thy -heart.”</p> -<p class="poetry">This were my wish!—from my life’s -dim beginning<br /> - <i>Let be what has been</i>! wisdom planned the -whole<br /> -My want, my woe, my errors, and my sinning,<br /> - All, all were needed lessons for my soul.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem62"></a>THREE FRIENDS</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Of all the blessings which my life has -known,<br /> -I value most, and most praise God for three:<br /> -Want, Loneliness, and Pain, those comrades true,</p> -<p class="poetry">Who masqueraded in the garb of foes<br /> -For many a year, and filled my heart with dread.<br /> -Yet fickle joys, like false, pretentious friends,<br /> -Have proved less worthy than this trio. First,</p> -<p class="poetry">Want taught me labour, led me up the steep<br -/> -And toilsome paths to hills of pure delight,<br /> -Trod only by the feet that know fatigue,<br /> -And yet press on until the heights appear.</p> -<p class="poetry">Then loneliness and hunger of the heart<br /> -Sent me upreaching to the realms of space,<br /> -Till all the silences grew eloquent,<br /> -And all their loving forces hailed me friend.</p> -<p class="poetry">Last, pain taught prayer! placed in my hand the -staff<br /> -Of close communion with the over-soul,<br /> -That I might lean upon it to the end,<br /> -And find myself made strong for any strife.</p> -<p class="poetry">And then these three who had pursued my -steps<br /> -Like stern, relentless foes, year after year,<br /> -Unmasked, and turned their faces full on me,<br /> -And lo! they were divinely beautiful,<br /> -For through them shone the lustrous eyes of Love.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem63"></a>YOU NEVER CAN TELL</h2> - -<p class="poetry">You never can tell when you send a word,<br /> - Like an arrow shot from a bow<br /> -By an archer blind, be it cruel or kind,<br /> - Just where it may chance to go!<br /> -It may pierce the breast of your dearest friend,<br /> - Tipped with its poison or balm;<br /> -To a stranger’s heart in life’s great mart,<br /> - It may carry its pain or its calm.</p> -<p class="poetry">You never can tell when you do an act<br /> - Just what the result will be;<br /> -But with every deed you are sowing a seed,<br /> - Though the harvest you may not see.<br /> -Each kindly act is an acorn dropped<br /> - In God’s productive soil.<br /> -You may not know, but the tree shall grow,<br /> - With shelter for those who toil.</p> -<p class="poetry">You never can tell what your thoughts will do,<br /> - In bringing you hate or love;<br /> -For thoughts are things, and their airy wings<br /> - Are swifter than carrier doves.<br /> -They follow the law of the universe—<br /> - Each thing must create its kind;<br /> -And they speed o’er the track to bring you back<br /> - <i>Whatever went out from your mind</i>.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem64"></a>HERE AND NOW</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Here, in the heart of the world,<br /> - Here, in the noise and the din,<br /> -Here, where our spirits were hurled<br /> - To battle with sorrow and sin,<br /> -This is the place and the spot<br /> - For knowledge of infinite things<br /> -This is the kingdom where Thought<br /> - Can conquer the prowess of kings</p> -<p class="poetry">Wait for no heavenly life,<br /> - Seek for no temple alone;<br /> -Here, in the midst of the strife,<br /> - Know what the sages have known.<br /> -See what the Perfect Ones saw—<br /> - God in the depth of each soul,<br /> -God as the light and the law,<br /> - God as beginning and goal.</p> -<p class="poetry">Earth is one chamber of Heaven,<br /> - Death is no grander than birth.<br /> -Joy in the life that was given,<br /> - Strive for perfection on earth;<br /> -Here, in the turmoil and roar,<br /> - Show what it is to be calm;<br /> -Show how the spirit can soar<br /> - And bring back its healing and balm.</p> -<p class="poetry">Stand not aloof nor apart,<br /> - Plunge in the thick of the fight;<br /> -There, in the street and the mart,<br /> - That is the place to do right.<br /> -Not in some cloister or cave,<br /> - Not in some kingdom above,<br /> -Here, on this side of the grave,<br /> - Here, should we labour and love.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem65"></a>UNCONQUERED</h2> - -<p class="poetry">However skilled and strong art thou, my foe,<br -/> -However fierce is thy relentless hate,<br /> -Though firm thy hand, and strong thy aim, and straight<br /> -Thy poisoned arrow leaves the bended bow,</p> -<p class="poetry">To pierce the target of my heart, ah! know<br -/> - I am the master yet of my own fate.<br /> - Thou canst not rob me of my best estate,<br /> -Though fortune, fame, and friends, yea, love shall go.</p> -<p class="poetry">Not to the dust shall my true self be -hurled,<br /> - Nor shall I meet thy worst assaults dismayed;<br /> - When all things in the balance are well weighed,<br -/> -There is but one great danger in the world—<br /> - <i>Thou canst not force my soul to wish thee -ill</i>,<br /> - That is the only evil that can kill.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem66"></a>ALL THAT LOVE ASKS</h2> - -<p class="poetry"> “All that I ask,” -says Love, “is just to stand<br /> - And gaze, unchided, deep in thy dear eyes;<br /> - For in their depths lies largest Paradise.<br /> -Yet, if perchance one pressure of thy hand<br /> - Be granted me, then joy I thought complete<br /> - Were still more sweet.</p> -<p class="poetry"> “All that I ask,” -says Love, “all that I ask,<br /> - Is just thy hand-clasp. Could I brush thy -cheek<br /> - As zephyrs brush a rose leaf, words are weak<br /> -To tell the bliss in which my soul would bask.<br /> - There is no language but would desecrate<br /> - A joy so great.</p> -<p class="poetry"> “All that I ask, is just one -tender touch<br /> - Of that soft cheek. Thy pulsing palm in -mine,<br /> - Thy dark eyes lifted in a trust divine,<br /> -And those curled lips that tempt me overmuch<br /> - Turned where I may not seize the supreme bliss<br /> - Of one mad kiss.</p> -<p class="poetry"> “All that I ask,” -says Love, “of life, of death,<br /> - Or of high heaven itself, is just to stand,<br /> - Glance melting into glance, hand twined in hand,<br -/> -The while I drink the nectar of thy breath<br /> - In one sweet kiss, but one, of all thy store,<br /> - I ask no more.”</p> -<p class="poetry"> “All that I -ask”—nay, self-deceiving Love,<br /> - Reverse thy phrase, so thus the words may fall,<br -/> - In place of “all I ask,” say, “I -ask all,”<br /> -All that pertains to earth or soars above,<br /> - All that thou wert, art, will be, body, soul,<br /> - Love asks the whole,</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem67"></a>“DOES IT PAY?”</h2> - -<p class="poetry">If one poor burdened toiler o’er -life’s road,<br /> - Who meets us by the way,<br /> -Goes on less conscious of his galling load,<br /> - Then life, indeed, does pay.</p> -<p class="poetry">If we can show one troubled heart the gain<br -/> - That lies alway in loss,<br /> -Why, then, we too are paid for all the pain<br /> - Of bearing life’s hard cross.</p> -<p class="poetry">If some despondent soul to hope is stirred,<br -/> - Some sad lip made to smile,<br /> -By any act of ours, or any word,<br /> - Then, life has been worth while.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem68"></a>SESTINA</h2> - -<p class="poetry">I wandered o’er the vast green plains of -youth,<br /> -And searched for Pleasure. On a distant height<br /> -Fame’s silhouette stood sharp against the skies.<br /> -Beyond vast crowds that thronged a broad highway<br /> -I caught the glimmer of a golden goal,<br /> -While from a blooming bower smiled siren Love.</p> -<p class="poetry">Straight gazing in her eyes, I laughed at -Love<br /> -With all the haughty insolence of youth,<br /> -As past her bower I strode to seek my goal.<br /> -“Now will I climb to glory’s dizzy height,”<br -/> -I said, “for there above the common way<br /> -Doth pleasure dwell companioned by the skies.”</p> -<p class="poetry">But when I reached that summit near the skies,<br /> -So far from man I seemed, so far from Love—<br /> -“Not here,” I cried, “doth Pleasure find her -way.”<br /> -Seen from the distant borderland of youth,<br /> -Fame smiles upon us from her sun-kissed height,<br /> -But frowns in shadows when we reach the goal.</p> -<p class="poetry">Then were mine eyes fixed on that glittering -goal,<br /> -Dear to all sense—sunk souls beneath the skies.<br /> -Gold tempts the artist from the lofty height,<br /> -Gold lures the maiden from the arms of Love,<br /> -Gold buys the fresh, ingenuous heart of youth,<br /> -“And gold,” I said, “will show me -Pleasure’s way.”</p> -<p class="poetry">But ah! the soil and discord of that way,<br /> -Where savage hordes rushed headlong to the goal,<br /> -Dead to the best impulses of their youth,<br /> -Blind to the azure beauty of the skies;<br /> -Dulled to the voice of conscience and of love,<br /> -They wandered far from Truth’s eternal height.</p> -<p class="poetry">Then Truth spoke to me from that noble -height,<br /> -Saying, “Thou didst pass Pleasure on the way,<br /> -She with the yearning eyes so full of Love,<br /> -Whom thou disdained to seek for glory’s goal.<br /> -Two blending paths beneath God’s arching skies<br /> -Lead straight to Pleasure. Ah! blind heart of youth,<br /> -Not up fame’s height, not toward the base god’s -goal,<br /> -Doth Pleasure make her way, but ’neath calm skies<br /> -Where Duty walks with Love in endless youth.”</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem69"></a>>THE OPTIMIST</h2> - -<p class="poetry">The fields were bleak and sodden.<br /> - Not a wing<br /> -Or note enlivened the depressing wood;<br /> -A soiled and sullen, stubborn snowdrift stood<br /> -Beside the roadway. Winds came muttering<br /> -Of storms to be, and brought the chilly sting<br /> - Of icebergs in their breath. Stalled cattle -mooed<br /> - Forth plaintive pleadings for the earth’s -green food.<br /> -No gleam, no hint of hope in anything.</p> -<p class="poetry">The sky was blank and ashen, like the face<br -/> - Of some poor wretch who drains life’s cup too -fast<br /> -Yet, swaying to and fro, as if to fling<br /> -About chilled Nature its lithe arms of grace,<br /> - Smiling with promise in the wintry blast,<br /> -The optimistic Willow spoke of spring.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem70"></a>THE PESSIMIST</h2> - -<p class="poetry">The pessimistic locust, last to leaf,<br /> -Though all the world is glad, still talks of grief.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem71"></a>AN INSPIRATION</h2> - -<p class="poetry">However the battle is ended,<br /> - Though proudly the victor comes<br /> -With fluttering flags and prancing nags<br /> - And echoing roll of drums,<br /> -Still truth proclaims this motto<br /> - In letters of living light,—<br /> -No question is ever settled<br /> - Until it is settled right.</p> -<p class="poetry">Though the heel of the strong oppressor<br /> - May grind the weak in the dust;<br /> -And the voices of fame with one acclaim<br /> - May call him great and just,<br /> -Let those who applaud take warning.<br /> - And keep this motto in sight,—<br /> -No question is ever settled<br /> - Until it is settled right.</p> -<p class="poetry">Let those who have failed take courage;<br /> - Though the enemy seems to have won,<br /> -Though his ranks are strong, if he be in the wrong<br /> - The battle is not yet done;<br /> -For, sure as the morning follows<br /> - The darkest hour of the night,<br /> -No question is ever settled<br /> - Until it is settled right.</p> -<p class="poetry">O man bowed down with labour!<br /> - O woman young, yet old!<br /> -O heart oppressed in the toiler’s breast<br /> - And crushed by the power of gold<br /> -Keep on with your weary battle<br /> - Against triumphant might;<br /> -No question is ever settled<br /> - Until it is settled right.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem72"></a>LIFE’S HARMONIES</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Let no man pray that he know not sorrow,<br /> - Let no soul ask to be free from pain,<br /> -For the gall of to-day is the sweet of to-morrow,<br /> - And the moment’s loss is the lifetime’s -gain.</p> -<p class="poetry">Through want of a thing does its worth -redouble,<br /> - Through hunger’s pangs does the feast -content,<br /> -And only the heart that has harboured trouble<br /> - Can fully rejoice when joy is sent.</p> -<p class="poetry">Let no man shrink from the bitter tonics<br /> - Of grief, and yearning, and need, and strife,<br /> -For the rarest chords in the soul’s harmonics<br /> - Are found in the minor strains of life.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem73"></a>PREPARATION</h2> - -<p class="poetry">We must not force events, but rather make<br /> -The heart soil ready for their coming, as<br /> -The earth spreads carpets for the feet of Spring,<br /> -Or, with the strengthening tonic of the frost,<br /> -Prepares for winter. Should a July noon<br /> -Burst suddenly upon a frozen world<br /> -Small joy would follow, even though that world<br /> -Were longing for the Summer. Should the sting<br /> -Of sharp December pierce the heart of June,<br /> -What death and devastation would ensue!<br /> -All things are planned. The most majestic sphere<br /> -That whirls through space is governed and controlled<br /> -By supreme law, as is the blade of grass<br /> -Which through the bursting bosom of the earth<br /> -Creeps up to kiss the light. Poor, puny man<br /> -Alone doth strive and battle with the Force<br /> -Which rules all lives and worlds, and he alone<br /> -Demands effect before producing cause.<br /> -How vain the hope! We cannot harvest joy<br /> -Until we sow the seed, and God alone<br /> -Knows when that seed has ripened. Oft we stand<br /> -And watch the ground with anxious, brooding eyes,<br /> -Complaining of the slow, unfruitful yield,<br /> -Not knowing that the shadow of ourselves<br /> -Keeps off the sunlight and delays result.<br /> -Sometimes our fierce impatience of desire<br /> -Doth like a sultry May force tender shoots<br /> -Of half-formed pleasures and unshaped events<br /> -To ripen prematurely, and we reap<br /> -But disappointment; or we rot the germs<br /> -With briny tears ere they have time to grow.<br /> -While stars are born and mighty planets die<br /> -And hissing comets scorch the brow of space,<br /> -The Universe keeps its eternal calm.<br /> -Through patient preparation, year on year,<br /> -The earth endures the travail of the Spring<br /> -And Winter’s desolation. So our souls<br /> -In grand submission to a higher law<br /> -Should move serene through all the ills of life<br /> -Believing them masked joys.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem74"></a></h2> - -<p class="poetry">In golden youth when seems the earth<br /> -A Summer-land of singing mirth,<br /> -When souls are glad and hearts are light,<br /> -And not a shadow lurks in sight,<br /> -We do not know it, but there lieu<br /> -Somewhere veiled under evening skies<br /> -A garden which we all must see—<br /> -The garden of Gethsemane.</p> -<p class="poetry">With joyous steps we go our ways,<br /> -Love lends a halo to our days;<br /> -Light sorrows sail like clouds afar,<br /> -We laugh, and say how strong we are.<br /> -We hurry on; and hurrying, go<br /> -Close to the borderland of woe<br /> -That waits for you, and waits for me—<br /> -Forever waits Gethsemane.</p> -<p class="poetry">Down shadowy lanes, across strange streams,<br /> -Bridged over by our broken dreams;<br /> -Behind the misty caps of years,<br /> -Beyond the great salt fount of tears,<br /> -The garden lies. Strive as you may,<br /> -You cannot miss it in your way;<br /> -All paths that have been, or shall be,<br /> -Pass somewhere through Gethsemane.</p> -<p class="poetry">All those who journey, soon or late,<br /> -Must pass within the garden’s gate;<br /> -Must kneel alone in darkness there,<br /> -And battle with some fierce despair.<br /> -God pity those who cannot say,<br /> -“Not mine but Thine”; who only pray<br /> -“Let this cup pass,” and cannot see<br /> -The <i>purpose</i> in Gethsemane.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem75"></a>GOD’S MEASURE</h2> - -<p class="poetry">God measures souls by their capacity<br /> -For entertaining his best Angel, Love.<br /> -Who loveth most is nearest kin to God,<br /> -Who is all Love, or Nothing.</p> -<p class="poetry"> He who -sits<br /> -And looks out on the palpitating world,<br /> -And feels his heart swell in him large enough<br /> -To hold all men within it, he is near<br /> -His great Creator’s standard, though he dwells<br /> -Outside the pale of churches, and knows not<br /> -A feast-day from a fast-day, or a line<br /> -Of Scripture even. What God wants of us<br /> -Is that outreaching bigness that ignores<br /> -All littleness of aims, or loves, or creeds,<br /> -And clasps all Earth and Heaven in its embrace.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem76"></a>NOBLESSE OBLIGE</h2> - -<p class="poetry">I hold it the duty of one who is gifted<br /> - And specially dowered in all men’s sight,<br -/> -To know no rest till his life is lifted<br /> - Fully up to his great gifts’ height.</p> -<p class="poetry">He must mould the man into rare -completeness,<br /> - For gems are set only in gold refined.<br /> -He must fashion his thoughts into perfect sweetness.<br /> - And cast out folly and pride from his mind.</p> -<p class="poetry">For he who drinks from a god’s gold -fountain<br /> - Of art or music or rhythmic song<br /> -Must sift from his soul the chaff of malice,<br /> - And weed from his heart the roots of wrong.</p> -<p class="poetry">Great gifts should be worn, like a crown -befitting,<br /> - And not like gems in a beggar’s hands!<br /> -And the toil must be constant and unremitting<br /> - Which lifts up the king to the crown’s -demands.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem77"></a>THROUGH TEARS</h2> - -<p class="poetry">An artist toiled over his pictures;<br /> - He laboured by night and by day,<br /> -He struggled for glory and honour<br /> - But the world, it had nothing to say.<br /> -His walls were ablaze with the splendours<br /> - We see in the beautiful skies;<br /> -But the world beheld only the colours<br /> - That were made out of chemical dyes.</p> -<p class="poetry">Time sped. And he lived, loved, and -suffered;<br /> - He passed through the valley of grief.<br /> -Again he toiled over his canvas,<br /> - Since in labour alone was relief.<br /> -It showed not the splendour of colours<br /> - Of those of his earlier years;<br /> -But the world? the world bowed down before it<br /> - Because it was painted with tears.</p> -<p class="poetry">A poet was gifted with genius,<br /> - And he sang, and he sang all the days.<br /> -He wrote for the praise of the people,<br /> - But the people accorded no praise.<br /> -Oh! his songs were as blithe as the morning,<br /> - As sweet as the music of birds;<br /> -But the world had no homage to offer,<br /> - Because they were nothing but words.</p> -<p class="poetry">Time sped. And the poet through sorrow<br -/> - Became like his suffering kind.<br /> -Again he toiled over his poems<br /> - To lighten the grief of his mind.<br /> -They were not so flowing and rhythmic<br /> - As those of his earlier years;<br /> -But the world? lo! it offered its homage,<br /> - Because they were written in tears.</p> -<p class="poetry">So ever the price must be given<br /> - By those seeking glory in art;<br /> -So ever the world is repaying<br /> - The grief-stricken, suffering heart.<br /> -The happy must ever be humble;<br /> - Ambition must wait for the years<br /> -Ere hoping to win the approval<br /> - Of a world that looks on through its tears.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem78"></a>WHAT WE NEED</h2> - -<p class="poetry">What does our country need? No armies -standing<br /> - With sabres gleaming ready for the fight;<br /> -Not increased navies, skilful and commanding,<br /> - To bound the waters with an iron might;<br /> -Not haughty men with glutted purses trying<br /> - To purchase souls, and keep the power of place;<br -/> -Not jewelled dolls with one another vying<br /> - For palms of beauty, elegance, and grace.</p> -<p class="poetry">But we want women, strong of soul, yet -lowly,<br /> - With that rare meekness, born of gentleness;<br /> -Women whose lives are pure and clean and holy,<br /> - The women whom all little children bless;<br /> -Brave, earnest women, helpful to each other,<br /> - With finest scorn for all things low and mean;<br /> -Women who hold the names of wife and mother<br /> - Far nobler than the title of a queen.</p> -<p class="poetry">Oh! these are they who mould the men of -story,<br /> - These mothers, ofttimes shorn of grace and youth,<br -/> -Who, worn and weary, ask no greater glory<br /> - Than making some young soul the home of truth;<br /> -Who sow in hearts all fallow for the sowing<br /> - The seeds of virtue and of scorn for sin,<br /> -And, patient, watch the beauteous harvest growing<br /> - And weed out tares which crafty hands cast in;</p> -<p class="poetry">Women who do not hold the gift of beauty<br /> - As some rare treasure to be bought and sold.<br /> -But guard it as a precious aid to duty—<br /> - The outer framing of the inner gold;<br /> -Women who, low above their cradles bending,<br /> - Let flattery’s voice go by, and give no -heed,<br /> -While their pure prayers like incense are ascending<br /> - <i>These</i> are our country’s pride, our -country’s need,</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem79"></a>PLEA TO SCIENCE</h2> - -<p class="poetry">O Science, reaching backward through the -distance,<br /> - Most earnest child of God,<br /> -Exposing all the secrets of existence,<br /> - With thy divining rod,<br /> -I bid thee speed up to the heights supernal,<br /> - Clear thinker, ne’er sufficed;<br /> -Go seek and bind the laws and truths eternal,<br /> - But leave me Christ.</p> -<p class="poetry">Upon the vanity of pious sages<br /> - Let in the light of day;<br /> -Break down the superstitions of all ages—<br /> - Thrust bigotry away;<br /> -Stride on, and bid all stubborn foes defiance,<br /> - Let Truth and Reason reign:<br /> -But I beseech thee, O Immortal Science,<br /> - Let Christ remain.</p> -<p class="poetry">What canst thou give to help me bear my crosses,<br /> - In place of Him, my Lord?<br /> -And what to recompense for all my losses,<br /> - And bring me sweet reward?<br /> -<i>Thou</i> couldst not with thy clear, cold eyes of reason,<br -/> - Thou couldst not comfort me<br /> -Like One who passed through that tear-blotted season<br /> - In sad Gethsemane!</p> -<p class="poetry">Through all the weary, wearing hour of -sorrow,<br /> - What word that thou hast said<br /> -Would make me strong to wait for some to-morrow<br /> - When I should find my dead?<br /> -When I am weak, and desolate, and lonely—<br /> - And prone to follow wrong?<br /> -Not thou, O Science—Christ, my Saviour, only<br /> - Can make me strong.</p> -<p class="poetry">Thou art so cold, so lofty, and so distant,<br -/> - Though great my need might be,<br /> -No prayer, however constant and persistent,<br /> - Could bring thee down to me.<br /> -Christ stands so near, to help me through each hour,<br /> - To guide me day by day<br /> -O Science, sweeping all before thy power—<br /> - Leave Christ, I pray!</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem80"></a>RESPITE</h2> - -<p class="poetry">The mighty conflict, which we call -existence,<br /> - Doth wear upon the body and the soul,<br /> -Our vital forces wasted in resistance,<br /> - So much there is to conquer and control.</p> -<p class="poetry">The rock which meets the billows with -defiance,<br /> - Undaunted and unshaken day by day,<br /> -In spite of its unyielding self-reliance,<br /> - Is by the warfare surely worn away.</p> -<p class="poetry">And there are depths and heights of strong -emotions<br /> - That surge at times within the human breast,<br /> -More fierce than all the tides of all the oceans<br /> - Which sweep on ever in divine unrest.</p> -<p class="poetry">I sometimes think the rock worn with adventures,<br /> - And sad with thoughts of conflicts yet to be,<br /> -Must envy the frail reed which no one censures,<br /> - When, overcome, ’tis swallowed by the sea.</p> -<p class="poetry">This life is all resistance and repression.<br -/> - Dear God, if in that other world unseen,<br /> -Not rest we find, but new life and progression,<br /> - Grant us a respite in the grave between.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem81"></a>SONG</h2> - -<p class="poetry">O praise me not with your lips, dear one!<br /> - Though your tender words I prize.<br /> -But dearer by far is the soulful gaze<br /> - Of your eyes, your beautiful eyes<br /> - Your tender, loving eyes.</p> -<p class="poetry">O chide me not with your lips, dear one!<br /> - Though I cause your bosom sighs.<br /> -You can make repentance deeper far<br /> - By your sad, reproving eyes,<br /> - Your sorrowful, troubled eyes.</p> -<p class="poetry">Words, at the best, are but hollow sounds;<br -/> - Above, in the beaming skies,<br /> -The constant stars say never a word,<br /> - But only smile with their eyes—<br /> - Smile on with their lustrous -eyes.</p> -<p class="poetry">Then breathe no vow with your lips, dear one;<br /> - On the winged wind speech flies.<br /> -But I read the truth of your noble heart<br /> - In your soulful, speaking eyes—<br /> - In your deep and beautiful -eyes.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem82"></a>MY SHIPS</h2> - -<p class="poetry">If all the ships I have at sea<br /> -Should come a-sailing home to me,<br /> -Ah, well! the harbour could not hold<br /> -So many sails as there would be<br /> -If all my ships came in from sea.</p> -<p class="poetry">If half my ships came home from sea,<br /> -And brought their precious freight to me,<br /> -Ah, well! I should have wealth as great<br /> -As any king who sits in state—<br /> -So rich the treasures that would be<br /> -In half my ships now out at sea.</p> -<p class="poetry">If just one ship I have at sea<br /> -Should come a-sailing home to me,<br /> -Ah, well! the storm-clouds then might frown<br /> -For if the others all went down,<br /> -Still rich and proud and glad I’d be<br /> -If that one ship came back to me.</p> -<p class="poetry">If that one ship went down at sea,<br /> -And all the others came to me,<br /> -Weighed down with gems and wealth untold,<br /> -With glory, honours, riches, gold,<br /> -The poorest soul on earth I’d be<br /> -If that one ship came not to me.</p> -<p class="poetry">O skies, be calm! O winds, blow -free—<br /> -Blow all my ships safe home to me!<br /> -But if thou sendest some a-wrack,<br /> -To never more come sailing back,<br /> -Send any—all that skim the sea,<br /> -But bring my love-ship home to me.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem83"></a>HER LOVE</h2> - -<p class="poetry">The sands upon the ocean side<br /> -That change about with every tide,<br /> -And never true to one abide,<br /> - A woman’s love I liken to.</p> -<p class="poetry">The summer zephyrs, light and vain,<br /> -That sing the same alluring strain<br /> -To every grass blade on the plain—<br /> - A woman’s love is nothing more.</p> -<p class="poetry">The sunshine of an April day<br /> -That comes to warm you with its ray,<br /> -But while you smile has flown away—<br /> - A woman’s love is like to this.</p> -<p class="poetry">God made poor woman with no heart,<br /> -But gave her skill, and tact, and art,<br /> -And so she lives, and plays her part.<br /> - We must not blame, but pity her.</p> -<p class="poetry">She leans to man—but just to hear<br /> -The praise he whispers in her ear;<br /> -Herself, not him, she holdeth dear—<br /> - O fool! to be deceived by her.</p> -<p class="poetry">To sate her selfish thirst she quaffs<br /> -The love of strong hearts in sweet draughts,<br /> -Then throws them lightly by and laughs,<br /> - Too weak to understand their pain.</p> -<p class="poetry">As changeful as the winds that blow<br /> -From every region to and fro,<br /> -Devoid of heart, she cannot know<br /> - The suffering of a human heart.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem84"></a>IF</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Dear love, if you and I could sail away,<br /> - With snowy pennons to the winds unfurled,<br /> -Across the waters of some unknown bay,<br /> - And find some island far from all the world;</p> -<p class="poetry">If we could dwell there, evermore alone,<br /> - While unrecorded years slip by apace,<br /> -Forgetting and forgotten and unknown<br /> - By aught save native song-birds of the place;</p> -<p class="poetry">If Winter never visited that land,<br /> - And Summer’s lap spilled o’er with -fruits and flowers,<br /> -And tropic trees cast shade on every hand,<br /> - And twinèd boughs formed sleep-inviting -bowers;</p> -<p class="poetry">If from the fashions of the world set free,<br /> - And hid away from all its jealous strife,<br /> -I lived alone for you, and you for me—<br /> - Ah! then, dear love, how sweet were wedded life.</p> -<p class="poetry">But since we dwell here in the crowded way,<br -/> - Where hurrying throngs rush by to seek for gold,<br -/> -And all is commonplace and work-a-day<br /> - As soon as love’s young honeymoon grows -old;</p> -<p class="poetry">Since fashion rules and nature yields to -art,<br /> - And life is hurt by daily jar and fret,<br /> -’Tis best to shut such dreams down in the heart<br /> - And go our ways alone, love, and forget.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem85"></a>LOVE’S BURIAL</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Let us clear a little space,<br /> -And make Love a burial-place.</p> -<p class="poetry">He is dead, dear, as you see,<br /> -And he wearies you and me.</p> -<p class="poetry">Growing heavier, day by day,<br /> -Let us bury him, I say.</p> -<p class="poetry">Wings of dead white butterflies,<br /> -These shall shroud him, as he lies</p> -<p class="poetry">In his casket rich and rare,<br /> -Made of finest maiden-hair.</p> -<p class="poetry">With the pollen of the rose<br /> -Let us his white eyelids close.</p> -<p class="poetry">Put the rose thorn in his hand,<br /> -Shorn of leaves—you understand.</p> -<p class="poetry">Let some holy water fall<br /> -On his dead face, tears of gall—</p> -<p class="poetry">As we kneel to him and say,<br /> -“Dreams to dreams,” and turn away.</p> -<p class="poetry">Those gravediggers, Doubt, Distrust,<br /> -They will lower him to the dust.</p> -<p class="poetry">Let us part here with a kiss—<br /> -You go that way, I go this.</p> -<p class="poetry">Since we buried Love to-day<br /> -We will walk a separate way.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem86"></a>“LOVE IS ENOUGH”</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Love is enough. Let us not ask for -gold.<br /> - Wealth breeds false aims, and pride, and -selfishness;<br /> -In those serene, Arcadian days of old<br /> - Men gave no thought to princely homes and dress.<br -/> -The gods who dwelt on fair Olympia’s height<br /> -Lived only for dear love and love’s delight.<br /> - Love is enough.</p> -<p class="poetry">Love is enough. Why should we care for -fame?<br /> - Ambition is a most unpleasant guest:<br /> -It lures us with the glory of a name<br /> - Far from the happy haunts of peace and rest.<br /> -Let us stay here in this secluded place<br /> -Made beautiful by love’s endearing grace!<br /> - Love is enough.</p> -<p class="poetry">Love is enough. Why should we strive for -power?<br /> - It brings men only envy and distrust.<br /> -The poor world’s homage pleases but an hour,<br /> - And earthly honours vanish in the dust.<br /> -The grandest lives are ofttimes desolate;<br /> -Let me be loved, and let who will be great.<br /> - Love is enough.</p> -<p class="poetry">Love is enough. Why should we ask for -more?<br /> - What greater gift have gods vouchsafed to men?<br /> -What better boon of all their precious store<br /> - Than our fond hearts that love and love again?<br /> -Old love may die; new love is just as sweet;<br /> -And life is fair and all the world complete:<br /> - Love is enough!</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem87"></a>LIFE IS A PRIVILEGE</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Life is a privilege. Its youthful days<br -/> -Shine with the radiance of continuous Mays.<br /> -To live, to breathe, to wonder and desire,<br /> -To feed with dreams the heart’s perpetual fire,<br /> -To thrill with virtuous passions, and to glow<br /> -With great ambitions—in one hour to know<br /> -The depths and heights of feeling—God! in truth,<br /> -How beautiful, how beautiful is youth!</p> -<p class="poetry">Life is a privilege. Like some rare -rose<br /> -The mysteries of the human mind unclose.<br /> -What marvels lie in earth, and air, and sea!<br /> -What stores of knowledge wait our opening key!<br /> -What sunny roads of happiness lead out<br /> -Beyond the realms of indolence and doubt!<br /> -And what large pleasures smile upon and bless<br /> -The busy avenues of usefulness!</p> -<p class="poetry">Life is a privilege. Though noontide -fades<br /> -And shadows fall along the winding glades,<br /> -Though joy-blooms wither in the autumn air,<br /> -Yet the sweet scent of sympathy is there.<br /> -Pale sorrow leads us closer to our kind,<br /> -And in the serious hours of life we find<br /> -Depths in the souls of men which lend new worth<br /> -And majesty to this brief span of earth.</p> -<p class="poetry">Life is a privilege. If some sad fate<br -/> -Sends us alone to seek the exit gate,<br /> -If men forsake us and as shadows fall,<br /> -Still does the supreme privilege of all<br /> -Come in that reaching upward of the soul<br /> -To find the welcoming Presence at the goal,<br /> -And in the Knowledge that our feet have trod<br /> -Paths that led from, and must wind back, to God.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem88"></a>INSIGHT</h2> - -<p class="poetry">Sirs, when you pity us, I say<br /> -You waste your pity. Let it stay,<br /> -Well corked and stored upon your shelves,<br /> -Until you need it for yourselves.</p> -<p class="poetry">We do appreciate God’s thought<br /> -In forming you, before He brought<br /> -Us into life. His art was crude,<br /> -But oh! so virile in its rude,</p> -<p class="poetry">Large, elemental strength; and then<br /> -He learned His trade in making men,<br /> -Learned how to mix and mould the clay<br /> -And fashion in a finer way.</p> -<p class="poetry">How fine that skilful way can be<br /> -You need but lift your eyes to see;<br /> -And we are glad God placed you there<br /> -To lift your eyes and find us fair.</p> -<p class="poetry">Apprentice labour though you were,<br /> -He made you great enough to stir<br /> -The best and deepest depths of us,<br /> -And we are glad He made you thus.</p> -<p class="poetry">Aye! we are glad of many things;<br /> -God strung our hearts with such fine strings<br /> -The least breath moves them, and we hear<br /> -Music where silence greets your ear.</p> -<p class="poetry">We suffer so? But women’s souls,<br -/> -Like violet-powder dropped on coals,<br /> -Give forth their best in anguish. Oh<br /> -The subtle secrets that we know</p> -<p class="poetry">Of joy in sorrow, strange delights<br /> -Of ecstasy in pain-filled nights,<br /> -And mysteries of gain in loss<br /> -Known but to Christ upon the cross!</p> -<p class="poetry">Our tears are pitiful to you?<br /> -Look how the heaven-reflecting dew<br /> -Dissolves its life in tears. The sand<br /> -Meanwhile lies hard upon the strand.</p> -<p class="poetry">How could your pity find a place<br /> -For us, the mothers of the race?<br /> -Men may be fathers unaware,<br /> -So poor the title is you wear.</p> -<p class="poetry">But mothers—who that crown adorns<br /> -Knows all its mingled blooms and thorns,<br /> -And she whose feet that pain hath trod<br /> -Hath walked upon the heights with God.</p> -<p class="poetry">No, offer us not pity’s cup.<br /> -There is no looking down or up<br /> -Between us; eye looks straight in eye:<br /> -Born equals, so we live and die.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem89"></a>A WOMAN’S ANSWER</h2> - -<p class="poetry">You call me an angel of love and of light,<br -/> - A being of goodness and heavenly fire,<br /> -Sent out from God’s kingdom to guide you aright,<br /> - In paths where your spirit may mount and aspire,<br -/> -You say that I glow like a star on its course,<br /> -Like a ray from the altar, a spark from the source.</p> -<p class="poetry">Now list to my answer—let all the world -hear it,<br /> - I speak unafraid what I know to be true—<br /> -A pure, faithful love is the creative spirit<br /> - Which make women angels! I live but in you.<br -/> -We are bound soul to soul by life’s holiest laws;<br /> -If I am an angel—why, you are the cause.</p> -<p class="poetry">As my ship skims the sea, I look up from the deck.<br -/> - Fair, firm at the wheel shines Love’s -beautiful form.<br /> -And shall I curse the bark that last night went to wreck<br /> - By the pilot abandoned to darkness and storm?<br /> -My craft is no stauncher, she too had been lost<br /> -Had the wheelman deserted, or slept at his post.</p> -<p class="poetry">I laid down the wealth of my soul at your -feet<br /> - (Some woman does this for some man every day).<br /> -No desperate creature who walks in the street<br /> - Has a wickeder heart than I might have, I say,<br /> -Had you wantonly misused the treasures you won—<br /> -As so many men with heart-riches have done.</p> -<p class="poetry">This fire from God’s altar, this holy -love-flame,<br /> - That burns like sweet incense forever for you,<br /> -Might now be a wild conflagration of shame,<br /> - Had you tortured my heart, or been base or -untrue.<br /> -For angels and devils are cast in one mould,<br /> -Till love guides them upward or downward, I hold.</p> -<p class="poetry">I tell you the women who make fervent wives<br -/> - And sweet tender mothers, had Fate been less -fair,<br /> -Are the women who might have abandoned their lives<br /> - To the madness that springs from and ends in -despair.<br /> -As the fire on the hearth which sheds brightness around,<br /> -Neglected, may level the walls to the ground.</p> -<p class="poetry">The world makes grave errors in judging these -things.<br /> - Great good and great evil are born in one breast:<br -/> -Love horns us and hoofs us, or gives us our wings,<br /> - And the best could be worst, as the worst could be -best.<br /> -You must thank your own worth for what I grew to be,<br /> -For the demon lurked under the angel in me.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<h2><a name="poem90"></a>THE WORLD’S NEED</h2> - -<p class="poetry">So many gods, so many creeds,<br /> - So many paths that wind and wind,<br /> - While just the art of being kind,<br /> -Is all the sad world needs.</p> - -<div class="gapspace"> </div> - -<div class="gapmediumline"> </div> -<p style="text-align: center"><i>Printed by Hanell</i>, <i>Watson -& Viney</i>, <i>Ld.</i>, <i>London and Aylesbury</i>.</p> - -</div><!--end chapter--> - -<div style='display:block;margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS OF POWER ***</div> -<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This file should be named 6667-h.htm or 6667-h.zip</div> -<div style='display:block;margin:1em 0;'>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in https://www.gutenberg.org/6/6/6/6667/</div> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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Be sure to check the -copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing -this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. - -This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project -Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the -header without written permission. - -Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the -eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is -important information about your specific rights and restrictions in -how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a -donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. - - -**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** - -**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** - -*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** - - -Title: Poems of Power - -Author: Ella Wheeler Wilcox - -Release Date: October, 2004 [EBook #6667] -[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] -[This file was first posted on January 10, 2003] - -Edition: 10 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, POEMS OF POWER *** - - - - -Transcribed from the 1918 Gay and Hancock edition by David Price, -email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk - - - - -POEMS OF POWER - - - - -Contents: - Note - The Queen's last ride - The Meeting of the Centuries - Death has Crowned him a Martyr - Grief - Illusion - Assertion - I Am - Wishing - We two - The Poet's Theme - Song of the Spirit - Womanhood - Morning Prayer - The Voices of the People - The World grows Better - A Man's Ideal - The Fire Brigade - The Tides - When the Regiment came back - Woman to Man - The Traveller - The Earth - Now - You and To-day - The Reason - Mission - Repetition - Begin the Day - Words - Fate and I - Attainment - A Plea to Peace - Presumption - High Noon - Thought-magnets - Smiles - The Undiscovered Country - The Universal Route - Unanswered Prayers - Thanksgiving - Contrasts - Thy Ship - Life - A Marine Etching - "Love Thyself Last" - Christmas Fancies - The River - Sorry - Ambition's trail - Uncontrolled - Will - To an Astrologer - The Tendril's Fate - The Times - The Question - Sorrow's Uses - If - Which are you? - The Creed to be - Inspiration - The Wish - Three Friends - You never can tell - Here and now - Unconquered - All that love asks - "Does it pay?" - Sestina - The Optimist - The Pessimist - An Inspiration - Life's Harmonies - Preparation - Gethsemane - God's Measure - Noblesse Oblige - Through Tears - What we Need - Plea to Science - Respite - Song - My Ships - Her Love - If - Love's burial - "Love is enough" - Life is a Privilege - Insight - A Woman's Answer - The World's Need - - - -NOTE - - - -The final word in the title of this volume refers to the DIVINE -POWER in every human being, the recognition of which is the secret -to all success and happiness. It is this idea which many of the -verses endeavour to illustrate. - -E. W. W. - - - - -THE QUEEN'S LAST RIDE -(Written on the day of Queen Victoria's funeral) - - - -The Queen is taking a drive to-day, -They have hung with purple the carriage-way, -They have dressed with purple the royal track -Where the Queen goes forth and never comes back. - -Let no man labour as she goes by -On her last appearance to mortal eye: -With heads uncovered let all men wait -For the Queen to pass, in her regal state. - -Army and Navy shall lead the way -For that wonderful coach of the Queen's to-day. -Kings and Princes and Lords of the land -Shall ride behind her, a humble band; -And over the city and over the world -Shall the Flags of all Nations be half-mast-furled, -For the silent lady of royal birth -Who is riding away from the Courts of earth, -Riding away from the world's unrest -To a mystical goal, on a secret quest. - -Though in royal splendour she drives through town, -Her robes are simple, she wears no crown: -And yet she wears one, for, widowed no more, -She is crowned with the love that has gone before, -And crowned with the love she has left behind -In the hidden depths of each mourner's mind. - -Bow low your heads--lift your hearts on high - -The Queen in silence is driving by! - - - -THE MEETING OF THE CENTURIES - - - -A curious vision on mine eyes unfurled - In the deep night. I saw, or seemed to see, - Two Centuries meet, and sit down vis-a-vis -Across the great round table of the world: -One with suggested sorrows in his mien, - And on his brow the furrowed lines of thought; - And one whose glad expectant presence brought -A glow and radiance from the realms unseen. - -Hand clasped with hand, in silence for a space - The Centuries sat; the sad old eyes of one - (As grave paternal eyes regard a son) -Gazing upon that other eager face. -And then a voice, as cadenceless and gray - As the sea's monody in winter time, - Mingled with tones melodious, as the chime -Of bird choirs, singing in the dawns of May. - -THE OLD CENTURY SPEAKS - -By you, Hope stands. With me, Experience walks. -Like a fair jewel in a faded box, -In my tear-rusted heart, sweet Pity lies. -For all the dreams that look forth from your eyes, -And those bright-hued ambitions, which I know -Must fall like leaves and perish, in Time's snow, -(Even as my soul's garden stands bereft,) -I give you pity! 'tis the one gift left. - -THE NEW CENTURY - -Nay, nay, good friend! not pity, but Godspeed, -Here in the morning of my life I need. -Counsel, and not condolence; smiles, not tears, -To guide me through the channels of the years. -Oh, I am blinded by the blaze of light -That shines upon me from the Infinite. -Blurred is my vision by the close approach -To unseen shores, whereon the times encroach. - -THE OLD CENTURY - -Illusion, all illusion. List and hear -The Godless cannons, booming far and near. -Flaunting the flag of Unbelief, with Greed -For pilot, lo! the pirate age in speed -Bears on to ruin. War's most hideous crimes -Besmirch the record of these modern times. -Degenerate is the world I leave to you, - -My happiest speech to earth will be--adieu. - -THE NEW CENTURY - -You speak as one too weary to be just. -I hear the guns--I see the greed and lust. -The death throes of a giant evil fill -The air with riot and confusion. Ill -Ofttimes makes fallow ground for Good; and Wrong -Builds Right's foundation, when it grows too strong. -Pregnant with promise is the hour, and grand -The trust you leave in my all-willing hand. - -THE OLD CENTURY - -As one who throws a flickering taper's ray -To light departing feet, my shadowed way -You brighten with your faith. Faith makes the man -Alas, that my poor foolish age outran -Its early trust in God! The death of art -And progress follows, when the world's hard heart -Casts out religion. 'Tis the human brain -Men worship now, and heaven, to them, means--gain. - -THE NEW CENTURY - -Faith is not dead, tho' priest and creed may pass, -For thought has leavened the whole unthinking mass, -And man looks now to find the God within. -We shall talk more of love, and less of sin, -In this new era. We are drawing near -Unatlassed boundaries of a larger sphere. -With awe, I wait, till Science leads us on, -Into the full effulgence of its dawn. - - - -DEATH HAS CROWNED HIM A MARTYR -(Written on the day of President McKinley's death) - - - -In the midst of sunny waters, lo! the mighty Ship of State -Staggers, bruised and torn and wounded by a derelict of fate, -One that drifted from its moorings in the anchorage of hate. - -On the deck our noble Pilot, in the glory of his prime, -Lies in woe-impelling silence, dead before his hour or time, -Victim of a mind self-centred in a Godless fool of crime. - -One of earth's dissension-breeders, one of Hate's unreasoning tools, -In the annals of the ages, when the world's hot anger cools, -He who sought for Crime's distinction shall be known as Chief of -Fools. - -In the annals of the ages, he who had no thought of fame -(Keeping on the path of duty, caring not for praise or blame), -Close beside the deathless Lincoln, writ in light, will shine his -name. - -Youth proclaimed him as a hero; time, a statesman; love, a man; -Death has crowned him as a martyr,--so from goal to goal he ran, -Knowing all the sum of glory that a human life may span. - -He was chosen by the people; not an accident of birth -Made him ruler of a nation, but his own intrinsic worth. -Fools may govern over kingdoms--not republics of the earth. - -He has raised the lovers' standard by his loyalty and faith, -He has shown how virile manhood may keep free from scandal's breath. -He has gazed, with trust unshaken, in the awful eyes of Death. - -In the mighty march of progress he has sought to do his best. -Let his enemies be silent, as we lay him down to rest, -And may God assuage the anguish of one suffering woman's breast. - - - -GRIEF - - - -As the funeral train with its honoured dead - On its mournful way went sweeping, -While a sorrowful nation bowed its head - And the whole world joined in weeping, -I thought, as I looked on the solemn sight, - Of the one fond heart despairing, -And I said to myself, as in truth I might, - "How sad must be this SHARING." - -To share the living with even Fame, - For a heart that is only human, -Is hard, when Glory asserts her claim - Like a bold, insistent woman; -Yet a great, grand passion can put aside - Or stay each selfish emotion, -And watch, with a pleasure that springs from pride, - Its rival--the world's devotion. - -But Death should render to love its own, - And my heart bowed down and sorrowed -For the stricken woman who wept alone - While even her DEAD was borrowed; -Borrowed from her, the bride--the wife - - For the world's last martial honour, -As she sat in the gloom of her darkened life, - With her widow's grief fresh upon her. - -He had shed the glory of Love and Fame - In a golden halo about her; -She had shared his triumphs and worn his name: - But, alas! he had died without her. -He had wandered in many a distant realm, - And never had left her behind him, -But now, with a spectral shape at the helm, - He had sailed where she could not find him. - -It was only a thought, that came that day - In the midst of the muffled drumming -And funeral music and sad display, - That I knew was right and becoming -Only a thought as the mourning train - Moved, column after column, -Bearing the dead to the burial plain - With a reverence grand as solemn. - - - -ILLUSION - - - -God and I in space alone - And nobody else in view. -"And where are the people, O Lord," I said, -"The earth below, and the sky o'er head, - And the dead whom once I knew?" - -"That was a dream," God smiled and said - - "A dream that seemed to be true. -There were no people, living or dead, -There was no earth, and no sky o'erhead; - There was only Myself--in you." - -"Why do I feel no fear," I asked, - "Meeting You here this way? -For I have sinned I know full well? -And is there heaven, and is there hell, - And is this the judgment day?" - -"Say, those were but dreams," the Great God said, - "Dreams, that have ceased to be. -There are no such things as fear or sin, -There is no you--you never have been - - There is nothing at all but ME." - - - -ASSERTION - - - -I am serenity. Though passions beat - Like mighty billows on my helpless heart, -I know beyond them lies the perfect sweet - Serenity, which patience can impart. -And when wild tempests in my bosom rage, -"Peace, peace," I cry, "it is my heritage." - -I am good health. Though fevers rack my brain - And rude disorders mutilate my strength, -A perfect restoration after pain, - I know shall be my recompense at length. -And so through grievous day and sleepless night, -"Health, health," I cry, "it is my own by right." - -I am success. Though hungry, cold, ill-clad, - I wander for awhile, I smile and say, -"It is but for a time--I shall be glad - To-morrow, for good fortune comes my way. -God is my father, He has wealth untold, -His wealth is mine, health, happiness, and gold." - - - -I AM - - - -I know not whence I came, - I know not whither I go; -But the fact stands clear that I am here - In this world of pleasure and woe. -And out of the mist and murk - Another truth shines plain - -It is my power each day and hour - To add to its joy or its pain. - -I know that the earth exists, - It is none of my business why; -I cannot find out what it's all about, - I would but waste time to try. -My life is a brief, brief thing, - I am here for a little space, -And while I stay I would like, if I may, - To brighten and better the place. - -The trouble, I think, with us all - Is the lack of a high conceit. -If each man thought he was sent to this spot - To make it a bit more sweet, -How soon we could gladden the world, - How easily right all wrong, -If nobody shirked, and each one worked - To help his fellows along! - -Cease wondering why you came - - Stop looking for faults and flaws; -Rise up to-day in your pride and say, - "I am part of the First Great Cause! -However full the world, - There is room for an earnest man. -It had need of me, or I would not be - - I am here to strengthen the plan." - - - -WISHING - - - -Do you wish the world were better? - Let me tell you what to do: -Set a watch upon your actions, - Keep them always straight and true; -Rid your mind of selfish motives; - Let your thoughts be clean and high. -You can make a little Eden - Of the sphere you occupy. - -Do you wish the world were wiser? - Well, suppose you make a start, -By accumulating wisdom - In the scrapbook of your heart: -Do not waste one page on folly; - Live to learn, and learn to live. -If you want to give men knowledge - You must get it, ere you give. - -Do you wish the world were happy? - Then remember day by day -Just to scatter seeds of kindness - As you pass along the way; -For the pleasures of the many - May be ofttimes traced to one, -As the hand that plants an acorn - Shelters armies from the sun. - - - -WE TWO - - - - We two make home of any place we go; -We two find joy in any kind of weather; - Or if the earth is clothed in bloom or snow, - If summer days invite, or bleak winds blow, -What matters it if we two are together? -We two, we two, we make our world, our weather. - - We two make banquets of the plainest fare; -In every cup we find the thrill of pleasure; - We hide with wreaths the furrowed brow of care, - And win to smiles the set lips of despair. -For us life always moves with lilting measure; -We two, we two, we make our world, our pleasure. - - We two find youth renewed with every dawn; -Each day holds something of an unknown glory. - We waste no thought on grief or pleasure gone; - Tricked out like hope, time leads us on and on, -And thrums upon his harp new song or story. -We two, we two, we find the paths of glory. - - We two make heaven here on this little earth; -We do not need to wait for realms eternal. - We know the use of tears, know sorrow's worth, - And pain for us is always love's rebirth. -Our paths lead closely by the paths supernal; -We two, we two, we live in love eternal. - - - -THE POET'S THEME - - - -What is the explanation of the strange silence of American poets -concerning American triumphs on sea and land? -Literary Digest. - -Why should the poet of these pregnant times -Be asked to sing of war's unholy crimes? - -To laud and eulogize the trade which thrives -On horrid holocausts of human lives? - -Man was a fighting beast when earth was young, -And war the only theme when Homer sung. - -'Twixt might and might the equal contest lay, -Not so the battles of our modern day. - -Too often now the conquering hero struts -A Gulliver among the Liliputs. - -Success no longer rests on skill or fate, -But on the movements of a syndicate. - -Of old men fought and deemed it right and just. -To-day the warrior fights because he must, - -And in his secret soul feels shame because -He desecrates the higher manhood's laws - -Oh! there are worthier themes for poet's pen -In this great hour, than bloody deeds of men - -Or triumphs of one hero (though he be -Deserving song for his humility): - -The rights of many--not the worth of one; -The coming issues--not the battle done; - -The awful opulence, and awful need; -The rise of brotherhood--the fall of greed, - -The soul of man replete with God's own force, -The call "to heights," and not the cry "to horse," - - -Are there not better themes in this great age -For pen of poet, or for voice of sage - -Than those old tales of killing? Song is dumb -Only that greater song in time may come. - -When comes the bard, he whom the world waits for, -He will not sing of War. - - - -SONG OF THE SPIRIT - - - -All the aim of life is just - Getting back to God. -Spirit casting off its dust, - Getting back to God. -Every grief we have to bear -Disappointment, cross, despair -Each is but another stair - Climbing back to God. - -Step by step and mile by mile - - Getting back to God; -Nothing else is worth the while - - Getting back to God. -Light and shadow fill each day -Joys and sorrows pass away, -Smile at all, and smiling, say, - Getting back to God. - -Do not wear a mournful face - Getting back to God; -Scatter sunshine on the place - Going back to God; -Take what pleasure you can find, -But where'er your paths may wind. -Keep the purpose well in mind, - - Getting back to God. - - - -WOMANHOOD - - - -She must be honest, both in thought and deed, -Of generous impulse, and above all greed; -Not seeking praise, or place, or power, or pelf, -But life's best blessings for her higher self, -Which means the best for all. - She must have faith, -To make good friends of Trouble, Pain, and Death, -And understand their message. - She should be -As redolent with tender sympathy -As is a rose with fragrance. - Cheerfulness -Should be her mantle, even though her dress -May be of Sorrow's weaving. - On her face -A loyal nature leaves its seal of grace, -And chastity is in her atmosphere. -Not that chill chastity which seems austere -(Like untrod snow-peaks, lovely to behold -Till once attained--then barren, loveless, cold); -But the white flame that feeds upon the soul -And lights the pathway to a peaceful goal. -A sense of humour, and a touch of mirth, -To brighten up the shadowy spots of earth; -And pride that passes evil--choosing good. -All these unite in perfect womanhood. - - - -MORNING PRAYER - - - -Let me to-day do something that shall take - A little sadness from the world's vast store, -And may I be so favoured as to make - Of joy's too scanty sum a little more -Let me not hurt, by any selfish deed - Or thoughtless word, the heart of foe or friend; -Nor would I pass, unseeing, worthy need, - Or sin by silence when I should defend. -However meagre be my worldly wealth, - Let me give something that shall aid my. kind - -A word of courage, or a thought of health, - Dropped as I pass for troubled hearts to find. -Let me to-night look back across the span - 'Twixt dawn and dark, and to my conscience say - -Because of some good act to beast or man - - "The world is better that I lived to-day." - - - -THE VOICES OF THE PEOPLE - - - -Oh! I hear the people calling through the day time and the night -time, -They are calling, they are crying for the coming of the right time. -It behooves you, men and women, it behooves you to be heeding, -For there lurks a note of menace underneath their plaintive -pleading. - -Let the land usurpers listen, let the greedy-hearted ponder, -On the meaning of the murmur, rising here and swelling yonder, -Swelling louder, waxing stronger, like a storm-fed stream that -courses -Through the valleys, down abysses, growing, gaining with new forces. - -Day by day the river widens, that great river of opinion, -And its torrent beats and plunges at the base of greed's dominion. -Though you dam it by oppression and fling golden bridges o'er it, -Yet the day and hour advances when in fright you'll flee before it. - -Yes, I hear the people calling, through the night time and the day -time, -Wretched toilers in life's autumn, weary young ones in life's May -time - -They are crying, they are calling for their share of work and -pleasure; -You are heaping high your coffers while you give them scanty -measure, - -You have stolen God's wide acres, just to glut your swollen purses - -Oh! restore them to His children ere their pleading turns to curses. - - - -THE WORLD GROWS BETTER - - - -Oh! the earth is full of sinning - And of trouble and of woe, -But the devil makes an inning - Every time we say it's so. -And the way to set him scowling, - And to put him back a pace, -Is to stop this stupid growling, - And to look things in the face. - -If you glance at history's pages, - In all lands and eras known, -You will find the buried ages - Far more wicked than our own. -As you scan each word and letter. - You will realise it more, -That the world to-day is better - Than it ever was before. - -There is much that needs amending - In the present time, no doubt; -There is right that needs amending, - There is wrong needs crushing out. -And we hear the groans and curses - Of the poor who starve and die, -While the men with swollen purses - In the place of hearts go by. - -But in spite of all the trouble - That obscures the sun to-day, -Just remember it was double - In the ages passed away. -And those wrongs shall all be righted, - Good shall dominate the land, -For the darkness now is lighted - By the torch in Science's hand. - -Forth from little motes in Chaos, - We have come to what we are; -And no evil force can stay us - - We shall mount from star to star, -We shall break each bond and fetter - That has bound us heretofore; -And the earth is surely better - Than it ever was before. - - - -A MAN'S IDEAL - - - -A lovely little keeper of the home, -Absorbed in menu books, yet erudite -When I need counsel; quick at repartee -And slow to anger. Modest as a flower, -Yet scintillant and radiant as a star. -Unmercenary in her mould of mind, -While opulent and dainty in her tastes. -A nature generous and free, albeit -The incarnation of economy. -She must be chaste as proud Diana was, -Yet warm as Venus. To all others cold -As some white glacier glittering in the sun; -To me as ardent as the sensuous rose -That yields its sweetness to the burrowing bee -All ignorant of evil in the world, -And innocent as any cloistered nun, -Yet wise as Phryne in the arts of love -When I come thirsting to her nectared lips. -Good as the best, and tempting as the worst, -A saint, a siren, and a paradox. - - - -THE FIRE BRIGADE - - - -Hark! high o'er the rattle and clamour and clatter - Of traffic-filled streets, do you hear that loud noise? -And pushing and rushing to see what's the matter, - Like herds of wild cattle, go pell-mell the boys. - -There's a fire in the city! the engines are coming! - The bold bells are clanging, "Make way in the street!" -The wheels of the hose-cart are spinning and humming - In time to the music of galloping feet. - -Make way there! make way there! the horses are flying, - The sparks from their swift hoofs shoot higher and higher, -The crowds are increasing--the gamins are crying: - "Hooray, boys!" "Hooray, boys!" "Come on to the fire!" - -With clanging and banging and clatter and rattle - The long ladders follow the engine and hose. -The men are all ready to dash into battle; - But will they come out again? God only knows. - -At windows and doorways crowd questioning faces; - There's something about it that quickens one's breath. -How proudly the brave fellows sit in their places - - And speed to the conflict that may be their death! - -Still faster and faster and faster and faster - The grand horses thunder and leap on their way -The red foe is yonder, and may prove the master; - Turn out there, bold traffic--turn out there, I say! - -For once the loud truckman knows oaths will not matter - And reins in his horses and yields to his fate. -The engines are coming! let pleasure-crowds scatter, - Let street car and truckman and mail waggon wait. - -They speed like a comet--they pass in a minute; - The boys follow on like a tail to a kite; -The commonplace street has but traffic now in it - - The great fire engines have swept out of sight. - - - -THE TIDES - - - -Be careful what rubbish you toss in the tide. - On outgoing billows it drifts from your sight, -But back on the incoming waves it may ride - And land at your threshold again before night. -Be careful what rubbish you toss in the tide. - -Be careful what follies you toss in life's sea. - On bright dancing billows they drift far away, -But back on the Nemesis tides they may be - Thrown down at your threshold an unwelcome day -Be careful what follies you toss in youth's sea. - - -WHEN THE REGIMENT CAME BACK - - - -All the uniforms were blue, all the swords were bright and new, - When the regiment went marching down the street, -All the men were hale and strong as they proudly moved along, - Through the cheers that drowned the music of their feet. -Oh the music of the feet keeping time to drums that beat, - Oh the splendour and the glitter of the sight, -As with swords and rifles new and in uniforms of blue - The regiment went marching to the fight! - -When the regiment came back all the guns and swords were black - And the uniforms had faded out to gray, -And the faces of the men who marched through that street again - Seemed like faces of the dead who lose their way. -For the dead who lose their way cannot look more wan and gray. - Oh the sorrow and the pity of the sight, -Oh the weary lagging feet out of step with drums that beat, - As the regiment comes marching from the fight. - - - -WOMAN TO MAN - - - -Woman is man's enemy, rival, and competitor.--JOHN. J. INGALLS. - -You do but jest, sir, and you jest not well, -How could the hand be enemy of the arm, -Or seed and sod be rivals! How could light -Feel jealousy of heat, plant of the leaf, -Or competition dwell 'twixt lip and smile? -Are we not part and parcel of yourselves? -Like strands in one great braid we entertwine -And make the perfect whole. You could not be, -Unless we gave you birth; we are the soil -From which you sprang, yet sterile were that soil -Save as you planted. (Though in the Book we read -One woman bore a child with no man's aid, -We find no record of a man-child born -Without the aid of woman! Fatherhood -Is but a small achievement at the best, -While motherhood comprises heaven and hell.) -This ever-growing argument of sex -Is most unseemly, and devoid of sense. -Why waste more time in controversy, when -There is not time enough for all of love, -Our rightful occupation in this life? -Why prate of our defects, of where we fail, -When just the story of our worth would need -Eternity for telling, and our best -Development comes ever through your praise, -As through our praise you reach your highest self? -Oh! had you not been miser of your praise -And let our virtues be their own reward, -The old-established order of the world -Would never have been changed. Small blame is ours -For this unsexing of ourselves, and worse. -Effeminising of the male. We were -Content, sir, till you starved us, heart and brain. -All we have done, or wise, or otherwise, -Traced to the root, was done for love of you. -Let us taboo all vain comparisons, -And go forth as God meant us, hand in hand, -Companions, mates, and comrades evermore; -Two parts of one divinely ordained whole. - - - -THE TRAVELLER - - - -Reply to Rudyard Kipling's "He travels the fastest who travels -alone." - -Who travels alone with his eyes on the heights, -Though he laughs in the day time oft weeps in the nights; - -For courage goes down at the set of the sun, -When the toil of the journey is all borne by one. - -He speeds but to grief though full gaily he ride -Who travels alone without love at his side. - -Who travels alone without lover or friend -But hurries from nothing, to naught at the end. - -Though great be his winnings and high be his goal, -He is bankrupt in wisdom and beggared in soul. - -Life's one gift of value to him is denied -Who travels alone without love at his side. - -It is easy enough in this world to make haste -If one live for that purpose--but think of the waste; - -For life is a poem to leisurely read, -And the joy of the journey lies not in its speed. - -Oh! vain his achievement and petty his pride -Who travels alone without love at his side. - - - -THE EARTH - - - -The earth is yours and mine, - Our God's bequest. -That testament divine - Who dare contest? - -Usurpers of the earth, - We claim our share. -We are of royal birth. - Beware! beware! - -Unloose the hand of greed - From God's fair land, -We claim but what we need - - That, we demand. - - - -NOW - - - -I leave with God to-morrow's where and how, -And do concern myself but with the Now, -That little word, though half the future's length, -Well used, holds twice its meaning and its strength. - -Like one blindfolded groping out his way, -I will not try to touch beyond to-day. -Since all the future is concealed from sight -I need but strive to make the next step right. - -That done, the next, and so on, till I find -Perchance some day I am no longer blind, -And looking up, behold a radiant Friend -Who says, "Rest, now, for you have reached the end." - - - -YOU AND TO-DAY - - - -With every rising of the sun -Think of your life as just begun. - -The past has shrived and buried deep -All yesterdays--there let them sleep, - -Nor seek to summon back one ghost -Of that innumerable host. - -Concern yourself with but to-day; -Woo it and teach it to obey - -Your wish and will. Since time began -To-day has been the friend of man. - -But in his blindness and his sorrow -He looks to yesterday and to-morrow. - -You and to-day! a soul sublime -And the great pregnant hour of time. - -With God between to bind the train, -Go forth, I say--attain--attain. - - - -THE REASON - - - -Do you know what moves the tides - As they swing from low to high? -'Tis the love, love, love, - Of the moon within the sky. -Oh! they follow where she guides, -Do the faithful-hearted tides. - -Do you know what moves the earth - Out of winter into spring? -'Tis the love, love, love, - Of the sun, the mighty king. -Oh the rapture that finds birth -In the kiss of sun and earth! - -Do you know what makes sweet songs - Ring for me above earth's strife? -'Tis the love, love, love, - That you bring into my life, -Oh the glory of the songs -In the heart where love belongs! - - - -MISSION - - - -If you are sighing for a lofty work, - If great ambitions dominate your mind, -Just watch yourself and see you do not shirk - The common little ways of being kind. - -If you are dreaming of a future goal, - When, crowned with glory, men shall own your power, -Be careful that you let no struggling soul - Go by unaided in the present hour. - -If you are moved to pity for the earth, - And long to aid it, do not look so high, -You pass some poor, dumb creature faint with thirst - - All life is equal in the eternal eye. - -If you would help to make the wrong things right, - Begin at home: there lies a lifetime's toil. -Weed your own garden fair for all men's sight, - Before you plan to till another's soil. - -God chooses His own leaders in the world, - And from the rest He asks but willing hands. -As mighty mountains into place are hurled, - While patient tides may only shape the sands. - - - -REPETITION - - - -Over and over and over - These truths I will weave in song - -That God's great plan needs you and me, -That will is greater than destiny, - And that love moves the world along. - -However mankind may doubt it, - It shall listen and hear my creed - -That God may ever be found within, -That the worship of self is the only sin, - And the only devil is greed. - -Over and over and over - These truths I will say and sing, -That love is mightier far than hate, -That a man's own thought is a man's own fate, - And that life is a goodly thing. - - - -BEGIN THE DAY - - - -Begin each morning with a talk to God, -And ask for your divine inheritance -Of usefulness, contentment, and success. -Resign all fear, all doubt, and all despair. -The stars doubt not, and they are undismayed, -Though whirled through space for countless centuries, -And told not why or wherefore: and the sea -With everlasting ebb and flow obeys, -And leaves the purpose with the unseen Cause. -The star sheds radiance on a million worlds, -The sea is prodigal with waves, and yet -No lustre from the star is lost, and not -One drop is missing from the ocean tides. -Oh! brother to the star and sea, know all -God's opulence is held in trust for those -Who wait serenely and who work in faith. - - - -WORDS - - - -Words are great forces in the realm of life: - Be careful of their use. Who talks of hate, -Of poverty, of sickness, but sets rife - These very elements to mar his fate. - -When love, health, happiness, and plenty hear - Their names repeated over day by day, -They wing their way like answering fairies near, - Then nestle down within our homes to stay. - -Who talks of evil conjures into shape - The formless thing and gives it life and scope. -This is the law: then let no word escape - That does not breathe of everlasting hope. - - - -FATE AND I - - - -Wise men tell me thou, O Fate, -Art invincible and great. - -Well, I own thy prowess; still -Dare I flout thee with my will - -Thou canst shatter in a span -All the earthly pride of man. - -Outward things thou canst control; -But stand back--I rule my soul! - -Death? 'Tis such a little thing - -Scarcely worth the mentioning. - -What has death to do with me, -Save to set my spirit free? - -Something in me dwells, O Fate, -That can rise and dominate - -Loss, and sorrow, and disaster, - -How, then, Fate, art thou my master? - -In the great primeval morn -My immortal will was born, - -Part of that stupendous Cause -Which conceived the Solar Laws, - -Lit the suns and filled the seas, -Royalest of pedigrees. - -That great Cause was Love, the Source -Who most loves has most of Force. - -He who harbours Hate one hour -Saps the soul of Peace and Power. - -He who will not hate his foe -Need not dread life's hardest blow. - -In the realm of brotherhood -Wishing no man aught but good, - -Naught but good can come to me - -This is Love's supreme decree. - -Since I bar my door to Hate, -What have I to fear, O Fate? - -Since I fear not--Fate I vow, -I the ruler am, not thou! - - - -ATTAINMENT - - - -Use all your hidden forces. Do not miss -The purpose of this life, and do not wait -For circumstance to mould or change your fate; -In your own self lies Destiny. Let this -Vast truth cast out all fear, all prejudice, -All hesitation. Know that you are great, -Great with divinity. So dominate -Environment, and enter into bliss. -Love largely and hate nothing. Hold no aim -That does not chord with universal good. -Hear what the voices of the Silence say - -All joys are yours if you put forth your claim. -Once let the spiritual laws be understood, -Material things must answer and obey. - - - -A PLEA TO PEACE - - - -When mighty issues loom before us, all -The petty great men of the day seem small, -Like pigmies standing in a blaze of light -Before some grim majestic mountain-height. -War, with its bloody and impartial hand, -Reveals the hidden weakness of a land, -Uncrowns the heroes trusting Peace has made -Of men whose honour is a thing of trade, -And turns the searchlight full on many a place -Where proud conventions long have masked disgrace. -O lovely Peace! as thou art fair be wise. -Demand great men, and great men shall arise -To do thy bidding. Even as warriors come, -Swift at the call of bugle and of drum, -So at the voice of Peace, imperative -As bugle's call, shall heroes spring to live -For country and for thee. In every land, -In every age, men are what times demand. -Demand the best, O Peace, and teach thy sons -They need not rush in front of death-charged guns -With murder in their hearts to prove their worth. -The grandest heroes who have graced the earth -Were love-filled souls who did not seek the fray, -But chose the safe, hard, high, and lonely way -Of selfless labour for a suffering world. -Beneath our glorious flag again unfurled -In victory such heroes wait to be -Called into bloodless action, Peace, by thee. -Be thou insistent in thy stern demand, -And wise, great men shall rise up in the land. - - - -PRESUMPTION - - - -Whenever I am prone to doubt or wonder - - I check myself, and say, "That mighty One -Who made the solar system cannot blunder - - And for the best all things are being done." -Who set the stars on their eternal courses - Has fashioned this strange earth by some sure plan. -Bow low, bow low to those majestic forces, - Nor dare to doubt their wisdom, puny man. - -You cannot put one little star in motion, - You cannot shape one single forest leaf, -Nor fling a mountain up, nor sink an ocean, - Presumptuous pigmy, large with unbelief. -You cannot bring one dawn of regal splendour, - Nor bid the day to shadowy twilight fall, -Nor send the pale moon forth with radiance tender - - And dare you doubt the One who has done all? - -"So much is wrong, there is such pain--such sinning." - Yet look again--behold how much is right! -And He who formed the world from its beginning - Knows how to guide it upward to the light. -Your task, O man, is not to carp and cavil - At God's achievements, but with purpose strong -To cling to good, and turn away from evil. - That is the way to help the world along. - - - -HIGH NOON - - - -Time's finger on the dial of my life -Points to high noon! and yet the half-spent day -Leaves less than half remaining, for the dark, -Bleak shadows of the grave engulf the end. -To those who burn the candle to the stick, -The sputtering socket yields but little light. -Long life is sadder than an early death. -We cannot count on ravelled threads of age -Whereof to weave a fabric. We must use -The warp and woof the ready present yields -And toil while daylight lasts. When I bethink -How brief the past, the future, still more brief -Calls on to action, action! Not for me -Is time for retrospection or for dreams, -Not time for self-laudation or remorse. -Have I done nobly? Then I must not let -Dead yesterday unborn to-morrow shame. -Have I done wrong? Well, let the bitter taste -Of fruit that turned to ashes on my lip -Be my reminder in temptation's hour, -And keep me silent when I would condemn. -Sometimes it takes the acid of a sin -To cleanse the clouded windows of our souls -So pity may shine through them. - - Looking back, -My faults and errors seem like stepping-stones -That led the way to knowledge of the truth -And made me value virtue; sorrows shine -In rainbow colours o'er the gulf of years, -Where lie forgotten pleasures. - - Looking forth, -Out to the western sky still bright with noon, -I feel well spurred and booted for the strife -That ends not till Nirvana is attained. - -Battling with fate, with men, and with myself, -Up the steep summit of my life's forenoon, -Three things I learned, three things of precious worth, -To guide and help me down the western slope. -I have learned how to pray, and toil, and save: -To pray for courage to receive what comes, -Knowing what comes to be divinely sent; -To toil for universal good, since thus -And only thus can good come unto me; -To save, by giving whatsoe'er I have -To those who have not--this alone is gain. - - - -THOUGHT-MAGNETS - - - -With each strong thought, with every earnest longing - For aught thou deemest needful to thy soul, -Invisible vast forces are set thronging - Between thee and that goal - -'Tis only when some hidden weakness alters - And changes thy desire, or makes it less, -That this mysterious army ever falters - Or stops short of success. - -Thought is a magnet; and the longed-for pleasure, - Or boon, or aim, or object, is the steel; -And its attainment hangs but on the measure - Of what thy soul can feel. - - - -SMILES - - - -Smile a little, smile a little, - As you go along, -Not alone when life is pleasant, - But when things go wrong. -Care delights to see you frowning, - Loves to hear you sigh; -Turn a smiling face upon her - - Quick the dame will fly. - -Smile a little, smile a little, - All along the road; -Every life must have its burden, - Every heart its load. -Why sit down in gloom and darkness - With your grief to sup? -As you drink Fate's bitter tonic, - Smile across the cup. - -Smile upon the troubled pilgrims - Whom you pass and meet; -Frowns are thorns, and smiles are blossoms - Oft for weary feet. -Do not make the way seem harder - By a sullen face; -Smile a little, smile a little, - Brighten up the place. - -Smile upon your undone labour; - Not for one who grieves -O'er his task waits wealth or glory; - He who smiles achieves. -Though you meet with loss and sorrow - In the passing years, -Smile a little, smile a little, - Even through your tears. - - - -THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY - - - -Man has explored all countries and all lands, -And made his own the secrets of each clime. -Now, ere the world has fully reached its prime, -The oval earth lies compassed with steel bands, -The seas are slaves to ships that touch all strands, - And even the haughty elements, sublime - And bold, yield him their secrets for all time, -And speed like lackeys forth at his commands. - -Still, though he search from shore to distant shore, - And no strange realms, no unlocated plains -Are left for his attainment and control, -Yet is there one more kingdom to explore. - Go, know thyself, O man! there yet remains -The undiscovered country of thy soul! - - - -THE UNIVERSAL ROUTE - - - -As we journey along, with a laugh and a song, - We see, on youth's flower-decked slope, -Like a beacon of light, shining fair on the sight, - The beautiful Station of Hope. - -But the wheels of old Time roll along as we climb, - And our youth speeds away on the years; -And with hearts that are numb with life's sorrows we come - To the mist-covered Station of Tears. - -Still onward we pass, where the milestones, alas! - Are the tombs of our dead, to the West, -Where glitters and gleams, in the dying sunbeams, - The sweet, silent Station of Rest. - -All rest is but change, and no grave can estrange - The soul from its Parent above; -And, scorning the rod, it soars back to its God, - To the limitless City of Love. - - - -UNANSWERED PRAYERS - - - -Like some schoolmaster, kind in being stern, -Who hears the children crying o'er their slates -And calling, "Help me, master!" yet helps not, -Since in his silence and refusal lies -Their self-development, so God abides -Unheeding many prayers. He is not deaf -To any cry sent up from earnest hearts; -He hears and strengthens when He must deny. -He sees us weeping over life's hard sums; -But should He give the key and dry our tears, -What would it profit us when school were done -And not one lesson mastered? - - What a world -Were this if all our prayers were answered. Not -In famed Pandora's box were such vast ills -As lie in human hearts. Should our desires, -Voiced one by one in prayer, ascend to God -And come back as events shaped to our wish, -What chaos would result! - - In my fierce youth -I sighed out breath enough to move a fleet, -Voicing wild prayers to heaven for fancied boons -Which were denied; and that denial bends -My knee to prayers of gratitude each day -Of my maturer years. Yet from those prayers -I rose alway regirded for the strife -And conscious of new strength. Pray on, sad heart, -That which thou pleadest for may not be given, -But in the lofty altitude where souls -Who supplicate God's grace are lifted, there -Thou shalt find help to bear thy daily lot -Which is not elsewhere found. - - - -THANKSGIVING - - - -We walk on starry fields of white - And do not see the daisies, -For blessings common in our sight - We rarely offer praises. -We sigh for some supreme delight - To crown our lives with splendour, -And quite ignore our daily store - Of pleasures sweet and tender. - -Our cares are bold and push their way - Upon our thought and feeling; -They hang about us all the day, - Our time from pleasure stealing. -So unobtrusive many a joy - We pass by and forget it, -But worry strives to own our lives, - And conquers if we let it. - -There's not a day in all the year - But holds some hidden pleasure, -And, looking back, joys oft appear - To brim the past's wide measure. -But blessings are like friends, I hold, - Who love and labour near us. -We ought to raise our notes of praise - While living hearts can hear us. - -Full many a blessing wears the guise - Of worry or of trouble; -Far-seeing is the soul, and wise, - Who knows the mask is double. -But he who has the faith and strength - To thank his God for sorrow -Has found a joy without alloy - To gladden every morrow. - -We ought to make the moments notes - Of happy, glad Thanksgiving; -The hours and days a silent phrase - Of music we are living. -And so the theme should swell and grow - As weeks and months pass o'er us, -And rise sublime at this good time, - A grand Thanksgiving chorus. - - - -CONTRASTS - - - - -I see the tall church steeples - - They reach so far, so far; -But the eyes of my heart see the world's great mart -Where the starving people are. - - I hear the church bells ringing - Their chimes on the morning air; -But my soul's sad ear is hurt to hear - The poor man's cry of despair. - -Thicker and thicker the churches, - Nearer and nearer the sky - -But alack for their creeds while the poor man's needs - Grow deeper as years roll by! - - - -THY SHIP - - - -Hadst thou a ship, in whose vast hold lay stored -The priceless riches of all climes and lands, -Say, wouldst thou let it float upon the seas -Unpiloted, of fickle winds the sport, -And of wild waves and hidden rocks the prey? - -Thine is that ship; and in its depths concealed -Lies all the wealth of this vast universe - -Yea, lies some part of God's omnipotence, -The legacy divine of every soul. -Thy will, O man, thy will is that great ship, -And yet behold it drifting here and there - -One moment lying motionless in port, -Then on high seas by sudden impulse flung, -Then drying on the sands, and yet again -Sent forth on idle quests to no-man's land -To carry nothing and to nothing bring; -Till, worn and fretted by the aimless strife -And buffeted by vacillating winds, -It founders on a rock, or springs a leak, -With all its unused treasures in the hold. - -Go save thy ship, thou sluggard; take the wheel -And steer to knowledge, glory, and success. -Great mariners have made the pathway plain -For thee to follow; hold thou to the course -Of Concentration Channel, and all things -Shall come in answer to thy swerveless wish -As comes the needle to the magnet's call, -Or sunlight to the prisoned blade of grass -That yearns all winter for the kiss of spring. - - - -LIFE - - - -All in the dark we grope along, - And if we go amiss -We learn at least which path is wrong, - And there is gain in this. - -We do not always win the race - By only running right; -We have to tread the mountain's base - Before we reach its height. - -The Christs alone no errors made; - So often had they trod -The paths that lead through light and shade, - They had become as God. - -As Krishna, Buddha, Christ again, - They passed along the way, -And left those mighty truths which men - But dimly grasp to-day. - -But he who loves himself the last - And knows the use of pain, -Though strewn with errors all his past, - He surely shall attain. - -Some souls there are that needs must taste - Of wrong, ere choosing right; -We should not call those years a waste - Which led us to the light. - - - -A MARINE ETCHING - - - -A yacht from its harbour ropes pulled free, -And leaped like a steed o'er the race-track blue, -Then up behind her the dust of the sea, -A gray fog, drifted, and hid her from view. - - - -"LOVE THYSELF LAST" - - - -Love thyself last. Look near, behold thy duty - To those who walk beside thee down life's road. -Make glad their days by little acts of beauty - And help them bear the burden of earth's load. - -Love thyself last. Look far and find the stranger - Who staggers 'neath his sin and his despair; -Go, lend a hand, and lead him out of danger, - To heights where he may see the world is fair. - -Love thyself last. The vastnesses above thee - Are filled with Spirit-Forces; strong and pure -And fervently these faithful friends shall love thee - Keep thou thy watch o'er others and endure. - -Love thyself last, and oh! such joy shall thrill thee - As never yet to selfish souls was given; -Whate'er thy lot, a perfect peace will fill thee, - And earth shall seem the ante-room of Heaven. - -Love thyself last, and thou shalt grow in spirit - To see, to hear, to know, and understand. -The message of the stars, lo, thou shalt hear it, - And all God's joys shall be at thy command. - - - -CHRISTMAS FANCIES - - - -When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow, -We hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago, - And etched on vacant places - Are half-forgotten faces -Of friends we used to cherish, and loves we used to know - -When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow. - -Uprising from the ocean of the present surging near, -We see, with strange emotion, that is not free from fear, - That continent Elysian - Long vanished from our vision, -Youth's lovely lost Atlantis, so mourned for and so dear, -Uprising from the ocean of the present surging near. - -When gloomy, gray Decembers are roused to Christmas mirth, -The dullest life remembers there once was joy on earth, - And draws from youth's recesses - Some memory it possesses, -And, gazing through the lens of time, exaggerates its worth, -When gloomy, gray December is roused to Christmas mirth. - -When hanging up the holly or mistletoe, I wis -Each heart recalls some folly that lit the world with bliss. - Not all the seers and sages - With wisdom of the ages -Can give the mind such pleasure as memories of that kiss -When hanging up the holly or mistletoe, I wis. - -For life was made for loving, and love alone repays, -As passing years are proving, for all of Time's sad ways. - There lies a sting in pleasure, - And fame gives shallow measure, -And wealth is but a phantom that mocks the restless days, -For life was made for loving, and only loving pays. - -When Christmas bells are pelting the air with silver chimes, -And silences are melting to soft, melodious rhymes, - Let Love, the world's beginning, - End fear and hate and sinning; -Let Love, the God Eternal, be worshipped in all climes -When Christmas bells are pelting the air with silver chimes. - - - -THE RIVER - - - -I am a river flowing from God's sea -Through devious ways. He mapped my course for me; -I cannot change it; mine alone the toil -To keep the waters free from grime and soil. -The winding river ends where it began; -And when my life has compassed its brief span -I must return to that mysterious source. -So let me gather daily on my course -The perfume from the blossoms as I pass, -Balm from the pines, and healing from the grass, -And carry down my current as I go -Not common stones but precious gems to show; -And tears (the holy water from sad eyes) -Back to God's sea, from which all rivers rise, -Let me convey, not blood from wounded hearts, -Nor poison which the upas tree imparts. -When over flowery vales I leap with joy, -Let me not devastate them, nor destroy, -But rather leave them fairer to the sight; -Mine be the lot to comfort and delight. -And if down awful chasms I needs must leap, -Let me not murmur at my lot, but sweep -On bravely to the end without one fear, -Knowing that He who planned my ways stands near. -Love sent me forth, to Love I go again, -For Love is all, and over all. Amen. - - - -SORRY - - - -There is much that makes me sorry as I journey down life's way, -And I seem to see more pathos in poor human lives each day. -I'm sorry for the strong, brave men who shield the weak from harm, -But who, in their own troubled hours, find no protecting arm. - -I'm sorry for the victors who have reached success, to stand -As targets for the arrows shot by envious failure's hand. -I'm sorry for the generous hearts who freely shared their wine, -But drink alone the gall of tears in fortune's drear decline. - -I'm sorry for the souls who build their own fame's funeral pyre, -Derided by the scornful throng like ice deriding fire. -I'm sorry for the conquering ones who know not sin's defeat, -But daily tread down fierce desire 'neath scorched and bleeding -feet. - -I'm sorry for the anguished hearts that break with passion's strain, -But I'm sorrier for the poor starved souls that never knew love's -pain, -Who hunger on through barren years not tasting joys they crave, -For sadder far is such a lot than weeping o'er a grave. - -I'm sorry for the souls that come unwelcomed into birth, -I'm sorry for the unloved old who cumber up the earth, -I'm sorry for the suffering poor in life's great maelstrom hurled - -In truth, I'm sorry for them all who make this aching world. - -But underneath whate'er seems sad and is not understood, -I know there lies hid from our sight a mighty germ of good. -And this belief stands firm by me, my sermon, motto, text - -The sorriest things in this life will seem grandest in the next. - - - -AMBITION'S TRAIL - - - -If all the end of this continuous striving - Were simply TO ATTAIN, -How poor would seem the planning and contriving, -The endless urging and the hurried driving, - Of body, heart, and brain! - -But ever in the wake of true achieving - There shines this glowing trail - -Some other soul will be spurred on, conceiving -New strength and hope, in its own power believing, - Because THOU didst not fail. - -Not thine alone the glory, nor the sorrow, - If thou dost miss the goal; -Undreamed of lives in many a far to-morrow -From thee their weakness or their force shall borrow - - On, on, ambitious soul. - - - -UNCONTROLLED - - - -The mighty forces of mysterious space - Are one by one subdued by lordly man. - The awful lightning that for eons ran - Their devastating and untrammelled race, -Now bear his messages from place to place - Like carrier doves. The winds lead on his van; - The lawless elements no longer can -Resist his strength, but yield with sullen grace. - -His bold feet scaling heights before untrod, - Light, darkness, air and water, heat and cold, - He bids go forth and bring him power and pelf. -And yet, though ruler, king and demi-god, - He walks with his fierce passions uncontrolled, - The conqueror of all things--save himself. - - - -WILL - - - -You will be what you will to be; - Let failure find its false content - In that poor word "environment," -But spirit scorns it, and is free. - -It masters time, it conquers space, - It cowes that boastful trickster Chance, - And bids the tyrant Circumstance -Uncrown and fill a servant's place. - -The human Will, that force unseen, - The offspring of a deathless Soul, - Can hew the way to any goal, -Though walls of granite intervene. - -Be not impatient in delay, - But wait as one who understands; - When spirit rises and commands, -The gods are ready to obey. - -The river seeking for the sea - Confronts the dam and precipice, - Yet knows it cannot fail or miss; -YOU WILL BE WHAT YOU WILL TO BE! - - - -TO AN ASTROLOGER - - - -Nay, seer, I do not doubt thy mystic lore, -Nor question that the tenor of my life, -Past, present, and the future, is revealed -There in my horoscope. I do believe -That yon dead moon compels the haughty seas -To ebb and flow, and that my natal star -Stands like a stern-browed sentinel in space -And challenges events; nor lets one grief, -Or joy, or failure, or success, pass on -To mar or bless my earthly lot, until -It proves its Karmic right to come to me. - -All this I grant, but more than this I KNOW! -Before the solar systems were conceived, -When nothing was but the unnamable, -My spirit lived, an atom of the Cause. -Through countless ages and in many forms -It has existed, ere it entered in -This human frame to serve its little day -Upon the earth. The deathless Me of me. -The spark from that great all-creative fire, -Is part of that eternal source called God, -And mightier than the universe. - - Why, he -Who knows, and knowing, never once forgets -The pedigree divine of his own soul, -Can conquer, shape, and govern destiny, -And use vast space as 'twere a board for chess -With stars for pawns; can change his horoscope -To suit his will; turn failure to success, -And from preordained sorrows, harvest joy. - -There is no puny planet, sun, or moon, -Or zodiacal sign which can control -The God in us! If we bring THAT to bear -Upon events, we mould them to our wish; -'Tis when the infinite 'neath the finite gropes -That men are governed by their horoscopes. - - - -THE TENDRIL'S FATE - - - -Under the snow, in the dark and the cold, - A pale little sprout was humming; -Sweetly it sang, 'neath the frozen mould, - Of the beautiful days that were coming. - -"How foolish your songs!" said a lump of clay; - "What is there, I ask, to prove them? -Just look at the walls between you and the day, - Now, have you the strength to move them?" - -But under the ice and under the snow - The pale little sprout kept singing, -"I cannot tell how, but I know, I know, - I know what the days are bringing. - -"Birds, and blossoms, and buzzing bees, - Blue, blue skies above me, -Bloom on the meadows and buds on the trees - And the great glad sun to love me." - -A pebble spoke next: "You are quite absurd," - It said, "with your song's insistence; -For _I_ never saw a tree or a bird, - So of course there are none in existence." - -"But I know, I know," the tendril cried, - In beautiful sweet unreason; -Till lo! from its prison, glorified, - It burst in the glad spring season. - - - -THE TIMES - - - - The times are not degenerate. Man's faith -Mounts higher than of old. No crumbling creed -Can take from the immortal soul the need - Of that supreme Creator, God. The wraith -Of dead beliefs we cherished in our youth -Fades but to let us welcome new-born Truth. - - Man may not worship at the ancient shrine -Prone on his face, in self-accusing scorn. -That night is past. He hails a fairer morn, - And knows himself a something all divine; -Not humble worm whose heritage is sin, -But, born of God, he feels the Christ withal. - - Not loud his prayers, as in the olden time, -But deep his reverence for that mighty force, -That occult working of the great All-Source, - Which makes the present era so sublime. -Religion now means something high and broad. -And man stood never half so near to God. - - - -THE QUESTION - - - -Beside us in our seeking after pleasures, - Through all our restless striving after fame, -Through all our search for worldly gains and treasures, - There walketh one whom no man likes to name. -Silent he follows, veiled of form and feature, - Indifferent if we sorrow or rejoice, -Yet that day comes when every living creature - Must look upon his face and hear his voice. - -When that day comes to you, and Death, unmasking, - Shall bar your path, and say, "Behold the end," -What are the questions that he will be asking - About your past? Have you considered, friend? -I think he will not chide you for your sinning, - Nor for your creeds or dogmas will he care; -He will but ask, "From your life's first beginning - How many burdens have you helped to bear?" - - - -SORROW'S USES - - - -The uses of sorrow I comprehend -Better and better at each year's end. - -Deeper and deeper I seem to see -Why and wherefore it has to be. - -Only after the dark, wet days -Do we fully rejoice in the sun's bright rays. - -Sweeter the crust tastes after the fast -Than the sated gourmand's finest repast. - -The faintest cheer sounds never amiss -To the actor who once has heard a hiss. - -To one who the sadness of freedom knows, -Light seem the fetters love may impose. - -And he who has dwelt with his heart alone, -Hears all the music in friendship's tone. - -So better and better I comprehend -How sorrow ever would be our friend. - - - -IF - - - -'Twixt what thou art, and what thou wouldst be, let -No "If" arise on which to lay the blame. -Man makes a mountain of that puny word, -But, like a blade of grass before the scythe, -It falls and withers when a human will, -Stirred by creative force, sweeps toward its aim. - -Thou wilt be what thou couldst be. Circumstance -Is but the toy of genius. When a soul -Burns with a god-like purpose to achieve, -All obstacles between it and its goal -Must vanish as the dew before the sun. - -"If" is the motto of the dilettante -And idle dreamer; 'tis the poor excuse -Of mediocrity. The truly great -Know not the word, or know it but to scorn, -Else had Joan of Arc a peasant died, -Uncrowned by glory and by men unsung. - - - -WHICH ARE YOU? - - -There are two kinds of people on earth to-day; -Just two kinds of people, no more, I say. - -Not the sinner and saint, for it's well understood -The good are half bad, and the bad are half good. - -Not the rich and the poor, for to rate a man's wealth -You must first know the state of his conscience and health. - -Not the humble and proud, for, in life's little span, -Who puts on vain airs is not counted a man. - -Not the happy and sad, for the swift flying years -Bring each man his laughter, and each man his tears. - -No; the two kinds of people on earth I mean -Are the people who lift, and the people who lean. - -Wherever you go, you will find the earth's masses -Are always divided in just these two classes. - -And, oddly enough, you will find too, I ween, -There's only one lifter to twenty who lean. - -In which class are you? Are you easing the load -Of overtaxed lifters, who toil down the road? - -Or are you a leaner, who lets others share -Your portion of labour and worry and care? - - - -THE CREED TO BE - - - -Our thoughts are moulding unmade spheres, - And, like a blessing or a curse, -They thunder down the formless years, - And ring throughout the universe. - -We build our futures by the shape - Of our desires, and not by acts. -There is no pathway of escape; - No priest-made creeds can alter facts. - -Salvation is not begged or bought; - Too long this selfish hope sufficed; -Too long man reeked with lawless thought, - And leaned upon a tortured Christ. - -Like shrivelled leaves, these worn-out creeds - Are dropping from Religion's tree; -The world begins to know its needs, - And souls are crying to be free. - -Free from the load of fear and grief, - Man fashioned in an ignorant age; -Free from the ache of unbelief - He fled to in rebellious rage. - -No church can bind him to the things - That fed the first crude souls, evolved; -For, mounting up on daring wings, - He questions mysteries all unsolved. - -Above the chant of priests, above - The blatant voice of braying doubt, -He hears the still, small voice of Love, - Which sends its simple message out. - -And clearer, sweeter, day by day, - Its mandate echoes from the skies, -"Go roll the stone of self away, - And let the Christ within thee rise." - - - -INSPIRATION - - - -Not like a daring, bold, aggressive boy, - Is inspiration, eager to pursue, -But rather like a maiden, fond, yet coy, - Who gives herself to him who best doth woo. - -Once she may smile, or thrice, thy soul to fire, - In passing by, but when she turns her face, -Thou must persist and seek her with desire, - If thou wouldst win the favour of her grace. - -And if, like some winged bird, she cleaves the air, - And leaves thee spent and stricken on the earth, -Still must thou strive to follow even there, - That she may know thy valour and thy worth. - -Then shall she come unveiling all her charms, - Giving thee joy for pain, and smiles for tears; -Then shalt thou clasp her with possessing arms, - The while she murmurs music in thine ears. - -But ere her kiss has faded from thy cheek, - She shall flee from thee over hill and glade, -So must thou seek and ever seek and seek - For each new conquest of this phantom maid - - - -THE WISH - - - -Should some great angel say to me to-morrow, - "Thou must re-tread thy pathway from the start, -But God will grant, in pity, for thy sorrow, - Some one dear wish, the nearest to thy heart." - -This were my wish!--from my life's dim beginning - LET BE WHAT HAS BEEN! wisdom planned the whole -My want, my woe, my errors, and my sinning, - All, all were needed lessons for my soul. - - - -THREE FRIENDS - - - -Of all the blessings which my life has known, -I value most, and most praise God for three: -Want, Loneliness, and Pain, those comrades true, - -Who masqueraded in the garb of foes -For many a year, and filled my heart with dread. -Yet fickle joys, like false, pretentious friends, -Have proved less worthy than this trio. First, - -Want taught me labour, led me up the steep -And toilsome paths to hills of pure delight, -Trod only by the feet that know fatigue, -And yet press on until the heights appear. - -Then loneliness and hunger of the heart -Sent me upreaching to the realms of space, -Till all the silences grew eloquent, -And all their loving forces hailed me friend. - -Last, pain taught prayer! placed in my hand the staff -Of close communion with the over-soul, -That I might lean upon it to the end, -And find myself made strong for any strife. - -And then these three who had pursued my steps -Like stern, relentless foes, year after year, -Unmasked, and turned their faces full on me, -And lo! they were divinely beautiful, -For through them shone the lustrous eyes of Love. - - - -YOU NEVER CAN TELL - - - -You never can tell when you send a word, - Like an arrow shot from a bow -By an archer blind, be it cruel or kind, - Just where it may chance to go! -It may pierce the breast of your dearest friend, - Tipped with its poison or balm; -To a stranger's heart in life's great mart, - It may carry its pain or its calm. - -You never can tell when you do an act - Just what the result will be; -But with every deed you are sowing a seed, - Though the harvest you may not see. -Each kindly act is an acorn dropped - In God's productive soil. -You may not know, but the tree shall grow, - With shelter for those who toil. - -You never can tell what your thoughts will do, - In bringing you hate or love; -For thoughts are things, and their airy wings - Are swifter than carrier doves. -They follow the law of the universe - - Each thing must create its kind; -And they speed o'er the track to bring you back - WHATEVER WENT OUT FROM YOUR MIND. - - - -HERE AND NOW - - - -Here, in the heart of the world, - Here, in the noise and the din, -Here, where our spirits were hurled - To battle with sorrow and sin, -This is the place and the spot - For knowledge of infinite things -This is the kingdom where Thought - Can conquer the prowess of kings - -Wait for no heavenly life, - Seek for no temple alone; -Here, in the midst of the strife, - Know what the sages have known. -See what the Perfect Ones saw - - God in the depth of each soul, -God as the light and the law, - God as beginning and goal. - -Earth is one chamber of Heaven, - Death is no grander than birth. -Joy in the life that was given, - Strive for perfection on earth; -Here, in the turmoil and roar, - Show what it is to be calm; -Show how the spirit can soar - And bring hack its healing and balm. - -Stand not aloof nor apart, - Plunge in the thick of the fight; -There, in the street and the mart, - That is the place to do right. -Not in some cloister or cave, - Not in some kingdom above, -Here, on this side of the grave, - Here, should we labour and love. - - - -UNCONQUERED - - - -However skilled and strong art thou, my foe, -However fierce is thy relentless hate, -Though firm thy hand, and strong thy aim, and straight -Thy poisoned arrow leaves the bended bow, - -To pierce the target of my heart, ah! know - I am the master yet of my own fate. - Thou canst not rob me of my best estate, -Though fortune, fame, and friends, yea, love shall go. - -Not to the dust shall my true self be hurled, - Nor shall I meet thy worst assaults dismayed; - When all things in the balance are well weighed, -There is but one great danger in the world - - THOU CANST NOT FORCE MY SOUL TO WISH THEE ILL, - That is the only evil that can kill. - - - -ALL THAT LOVE ASKS - - - - "All that I ask," says Love, "is just to stand - And gaze, unchided, deep in thy dear eyes; - For in their depths lies largest Paradise. -Yet, if perchance one pressure of thy hand - Be granted me, then joy I thought complete - Were still more sweet. - - "All that I ask," says Love, "all that I ask, - Is just thy hand-clasp. Could I brush thy cheek - As zephyrs brush a rose leaf, words are weak -To tell the bliss in which my soul would bask. - There is no language but would desecrate - A joy so great. - - "All that I ask, is just one tender touch - Of that soft cheek. Thy pulsing palm in mine, - Thy dark eyes lifted in a trust divine, -And those curled lips that tempt me overmuch - Turned where I may not seize the supreme bliss - Of one mad kiss. - - "All that I ask," says Love, "of life, of death, - Or of high heaven itself, is just to stand, - Glance melting into glance, hand twined in hand, -The while I drink the nectar of thy breath - In one sweet kiss, but one, of all thy store, - I ask no more." - - "All that I ask"--nay, self-deceiving Love, - Reverse thy phrase, so thus the words may fall, - In place of "all I ask," say, "I ask all," -All that pertains to earth or soars above, - All that thou wert, art, will be, body, soul, - Love asks the whole, - - - -"DOES IT PAY?" - - - -If one poor burdened toiler o'er life's road, - Who meets us by the way, -Goes on less conscious of his galling load, - Then life, indeed, does pay. - -If we can show one troubled heart the gain - That lies alway in loss, -Why, then, we too are paid for all the pain - Of bearing life's hard cross. - -If some despondent soul to hope is stirred, - Some sad lip made to smile, -By any act of ours, or any word, - Then, life has been worth while. - - - -SESTINA - - - -I wandered o'er the vast green plains of youth, -And searched for Pleasure. On a distant height -Fame's silhouette stood sharp against the skies. -Beyond vast crowds that thronged a broad highway -I caught the glimmer of a golden goal, -While from a blooming bower smiled siren Love. - -Straight gazing in her eyes, I laughed at Love -With all the haughty insolence of youth, -As past her bower I strode to seek my goal. -"Now will I climb to glory's dizzy height," -I said, "for there above the common way -Doth pleasure dwell companioned by the skies." - -But when I reached that summit near the skies, -So far from man I seemed, so far from Love - -"Not here," I cried, "doth Pleasure find her way." -Seen from the distant borderland of youth, -Fame smiles upon us from her sun-kissed height, -But frowns in shadows when we reach the goal. - -Then were mine eyes fixed on that glittering goal, -Dear to all sense--sunk souls beneath the skies. -Gold tempts the artist from the lofty height, -Gold lures the maiden from the arms of Love, -Gold buys the fresh, ingenuous heart of youth, -"And gold," I said, "will show me Pleasure's way." - -But ah! the soil and discord of that way, -Where savage hordes rushed headlong to the goal, -Dead to the best impulses of their youth, -Blind to the azure beauty of the skies; -Dulled to the voice of conscience and of love, -They wandered far from Truth's eternal height. - -Then Truth spoke to me from that noble height, -Saying, "Thou didst pass Pleasure on the way, -She with the yearning eyes so full of Love, -Whom thou disdained to seek for glory's goal. -Two blending paths beneath God's arching skies -Lead straight to Pleasure. Ah! blind heart of youth, -Not up fame's height, not toward the base god's goal, -Doth Pleasure make her way, but 'neath calm skies -Where Duty walks with Love in endless youth." - - - -THE OPTIMIST - - - -The fields were bleak and sodden. - Not a wing -Or note enlivened the depressing wood; -A soiled and sullen, stubborn snowdrift stood -Beside the roadway. Winds came muttering -Of storms to be, and brought the chilly sting - Of icebergs in their breath. Stalled cattle mooed - Forth plaintive pleadings for the earth's green food. -No gleam, no hint of hope in anything. - -The sky was blank and ashen, like the face - Of some poor wretch who drains life's cup too fast -Yet, swaying to and fro, as if to fling -About chilled Nature its lithe arms of grace, - Smiling with promise in the wintry blast, -The optimistic Willow spoke of spring. - - - -THE PESSIMIST - - - -The pessimistic locust, last to leaf, -Though all the world is glad, still talks of grief. - - - -AN INSPIRATION - - - -However the battle is ended, - Though proudly the victor comes -With fluttering flags and prancing nags - And echoing roll of drums, -Still truth proclaims this motto - In letters of living light, - -No question is ever settled - Until it is settled right. - -Though the heel of the strong oppressor - May grind the weak in the dust; -And the voices of fame with one acclaim - May call him great and just, -Let those who applaud take warning. - And keep this motto in sight, - -No question is ever settled - Until it is settled right. - -Let those who have failed take courage; - Though the enemy seems to have won, -Though his ranks are strong, if he be in the wrong - The battle is not yet done; -For, sure as the morning follows - The darkest hour of the night, -No question is ever settled - Until it is settled right. - -O man bowed down with labour! - O woman young, yet old! -O heart oppressed in the toiler's breast - And crushed by the power of gold -Keep on with your weary battle - Against triumphant might; -No question is ever settled - Until it is settled right. - - - -LIFE'S HARMONIES - - - -Let no man pray that he know not sorrow, - Let no soul ask to be free from pain, -For the gall of to-day is the sweet of to-morrow, - And the moment's loss is the lifetime's gain. - -Through want of a thing does its worth redouble, - Through hunger's pangs does the feast content, -And only the heart that has harboured trouble - Can fully rejoice when joy is sent. - -Let no man shrink from the bitter tonics - Of grief, and yearning, and need, and strife, -For the rarest chords in the soul's harmonics - Are found in the minor strains of life. - - - -PREPARATION - - - -We must not force events, but rather make -The heart soil ready for their coming, as -The earth spreads carpets for the feet of Spring, -Or, with the strengthening tonic of the frost, -Prepares for winter. Should a July noon -Burst suddenly upon a frozen world -Small joy would follow, even though that world -Were longing for the Summer. Should the sting -Of sharp December pierce the heart of June, -What death and devastation would ensue! -All things are planned. The most majestic sphere -That whirls through space is governed and controlled -By supreme law, as is the blade of grass -Which through the bursting bosom of the earth -Creeps up to kiss the light. Poor, puny man -Alone doth strive and battle with the Force -Which rules all lives and worlds, and he alone -Demands effect before producing cause. -How vain the hope! We cannot harvest joy -Until we sow the seed, and God alone -Knows when that seed has ripened. Oft we stand -And watch the ground with anxious, brooding eyes, -Complaining of the slow, unfruitful yield, -Not knowing that the shadow of ourselves -Keeps off the sunlight and delays result. -Sometimes our fierce impatience of desire -Doth like a sultry May force tender shoots -Of half-formed pleasures and unshaped events -To ripen prematurely, and we reap -But disappointment; or we rot the germs -With briny tears ere they have time to grow. -While stars are born and mighty planets die -And hissing comets scorch the brow of space, -The Universe keeps its eternal calm. -Through patient preparation, year on year, -The earth endures the travail of the Spring -And Winter's desolation. So our souls -In grand submission to a higher law -Should move serene through all the ills of life -Believing them masked joys. - - - -GETHSEMANE - - - -In golden youth when seems the earth -A Summer-land of singing mirth, -When souls are glad and hearts are light, -And not a shadow lurks in sight, -We do not know it, but there lieu -Somewhere veiled under evening skies -A garden which we all must see - -The garden of Gethsemane. - -With joyous steps we go our ways, -Love lends a halo to our days; -Light sorrows sail like clouds afar, -We laugh, and say how strong we are. -We hurry on; and hurrying, go -Close to the borderland of woe -That waits for you, and waits for me - -Forever waits Gethsemane. - -Down shadowy lanes, across strange streams, -Bridged over by our broken dreams; -Behind the misty caps of years, -Beyond the great salt fount of tears, -The garden lies. Strive as you may, -You cannot miss it in your way; -All paths that have been, or shall be, -Pass somewhere through Gethsemane. - -All those who journey, soon or late, -Must pass within the garden's gate; -Must kneel alone in darkness there, -And battle with some fierce despair. -God pity those who cannot say, -"Not mine but Thine"; who only pray -"Let this cup pass," and cannot see -The PURPOSE in Gethsemane. - - - -GOD'S MEASURE - - - -God measures souls by their capacity -For entertaining his best Angel, Love. -Who loveth most is nearest kin to God, -Who is all Love, or Nothing. - - He who sits -And looks out on the palpitating world, -And feels his heart swell in him large enough -To hold all men within it, he is near -His great Creator's standard, though he dwells -Outside the pale of churches, and knows not -A feast-day from a fast-day, or a line -Of Scripture even. What God wants of us -Is that outreaching bigness that ignores -All littleness of aims, or loves, or creeds, -And clasps all Earth and Heaven in its embrace. - - - -NOBLESSE OBLIGE - - - -I hold it the duty of one who is gifted - And specially dowered in all men's sight, -To know no rest till his life is lifted - Fully up to his great gifts' height. - -He must mould the man into rare completeness, - For gems are set only in gold refined. -He must fashion his thoughts into perfect sweetness. - And cast out folly and pride from his mind. - -For he who drinks from a god's gold fountain - Of art or music or rhythmic song -Must sift from his soul the chaff of malice, - And weed from his heart the roots of wrong. - -Great gifts should be worn, like a crown befitting, - And not like gems in a beggar's hands! -And the toil must be constant and unremitting - Which lifts up the king to the crown's demands. - - - -THROUGH TEARS - - - -An artist toiled over his pictures; - He laboured by night and by day, -He struggled for glory and honour - But the world, it had nothing to say. -His walls were ablaze with the splendours - We see in the beautiful skies; -But the world beheld only the colours - That were made out of chemical dyes. - -Time sped. And he lived, loved, and suffered; - He passed through the valley of grief. -Again he toiled over his canvas, - Since in labour alone was relief. -It showed not the splendour of colours - Of those of his earlier years; -But the world? the world bowed down before it - Because it was painted with tears. - -A poet was gifted with genius, - And he sang, and he sang all the days. -He wrote for the praise of the people, - But the people accorded no praise. -Oh! his songs were as blithe as the morning, - As sweet as the music of birds; -But the world had no homage to offer, - Because they were nothing but words. - -Time sped. And the poet through sorrow - Became like his suffering kind. -Again he toiled over his poems - To lighten the grief of his mind. -They were not so flowing and rhythmic - As those of his earlier years; -But the world? lo! it offered its homage, - Because they were written in tears. - -So ever the price must be given - By those seeking glory in art; -So ever the world is repaying - The grief-stricken, suffering heart. -The happy must ever be humble; - Ambition must wait for the years -Ere hoping to win the approval - Of a world that looks on through its tears. - - - -WHAT WE NEED - - - -What does our country need? No armies standing - With sabres gleaming ready for the fight; -Not increased navies, skilful and commanding, - To bound the waters with an iron might; -Not haughty men with glutted purses trying - To purchase souls, and keep the power of place; -Not jewelled dolls with one another vying - For palms of beauty, elegance, and grace. - -But we want women, strong of soul, yet lowly, - With that rare meekness, born of gentleness; -Women whose lives are pure and clean and holy, - The women whom all little children bless; -Brave, earnest women, helpful to each other, - With finest scorn for all things low and mean; -Women who hold the names of wife and mother - Far nobler than the title of a queen. - -Oh! these are they who mould the men of story, - These mothers, ofttimes shorn of grace and youth, -Who, worn and weary, ask no greater glory - Than making some young soul the home of truth; -Who sow in hearts all fallow for the sowing - The seeds of virtue and of scorn for sin, -And, patient, watch the beauteous harvest growing - And weed out tares which crafty hands cast in; - -Women who do not hold the gift of beauty - As some rare treasure to be bought and sold. -But guard it as a precious aid to duty - - The outer framing of the inner gold; -Women who, low above their cradles bending, - Let flattery's voice go by, and give no heed, -While their pure prayers like incense are ascending - THESE are our country's pride, our country's need, - - - -PLEA TO SCIENCE - - - -O Science, reaching backward through the distance, - Most earnest child of God, -Exposing all the secrets of existence, - With thy divining rod, -I bid thee speed up to the heights supernal, - Clear thinker, ne'er sufficed; -Go seek and bind the laws and truths eternal, - But leave me Christ. - -Upon the vanity of pious sages - Let in the light of day; -Break down the superstitions of all ages - - Thrust bigotry away; -Stride on, and bid all stubborn foes defiance, - Let Truth and Reason reign: -But I beseech thee, O Immortal Science, - Let Christ remain. - -What canst thou give to help me bear my crosses, - In place of Him, my Lord? -And what to recompense for all my losses, - And bring me sweet reward? -THOU couldst not with thy clear, cold eyes of reason, - Thou couldst not comfort me -Like One who passed through that tear-blotted season - In sad Gethsemane! - -Through all the weary, wearing hour of sorrow, - What word that thou hast said -Would make me strong to wait for some to-morrow - When I should find my dead? -When I am weak, and desolate, and lonely - - And prone to follow wrong? -Not thou, O Science--Christ, my Saviour, only - Can make me strong. - -Thou art so cold, so lofty, and so distant, - Though great my need might be, -No prayer, however constant and persistent, - Could bring thee down to me. -Christ stands so near, to help me through each hour, - To guide me day by day -O Science, sweeping all before thy power - - Leave Christ, I pray! - - - -RESPITE - - - -The mighty conflict, which we call existence, - Doth wear upon the body and the soul, -Our vital forces wasted in resistance, - So much there is to conquer and control. - -The rock which meets the billows with defiance, - Undaunted and unshaken day by day, -In spite of its unyielding self-reliance, - Is by the warfare surely worn away. - -And there are depths and heights of strong emotions - That surge at times within the human breast, -More fierce than all the tides of all the oceans - Which sweep on ever in divine unrest. - -I sometimes think the rock worn with adventures, - And sad with thoughts of conflicts yet to be, -Must envy the frail reed which no one censures, - When, overcome, 'tis swallowed by the sea. - -This life is all resistance and repression. - Dear God, if in that other world unseen, -Not rest we find, but new life and progression, - Grant us a respite in the grave between. - - - -SONG - - - -O praise me not with your lips, dear one! - Though your tender words I prize. -But dearer by far is the soulful gaze - Of your eyes, your beautiful eyes - Your tender, loving eyes. - -O chide me not with your lips, dear one! - Though I cause your bosom sighs. -You can make repentance deeper far - By your sad, reproving eyes, - Your sorrowful, troubled eyes. - -Words, at the best, are but hollow sounds; - Above, in the beaming skies, -The constant stars say never a word, - But only smile with their eyes - - Smile on with their lustrous eyes. - -Then breathe no vow with your lips, dear one; - On the winged wind speech flies. -But I read the truth of your noble heart - In your soulful, speaking eyes - - In your deep and beautiful eyes. - - - -MY SHIPS - - - -If all the ships I have at sea -Should come a-sailing home to me, -Ah, well! the harbour could not hold -So many sails as there would be -If all my ships came in from sea. - -If half my ships came home from sea, -And brought their precious freight to me, -Ah, well! I should have wealth as great -As any king who sits in state - -So rich the treasures that would be -In half my ships now out at sea. - -If just one ship I have at sea -Should come a-sailing home to me, -Ah, well! the storm-clouds then might frown -For if the others all went down, -Still rich and proud and glad I'd be -If that one ship came back to me. - -If that one ship went down at sea, -And all the others came to me, -Weighed down with gems and wealth untold, -With glory, honours, riches, gold, -The poorest soul on earth I'd be -If that one ship came not to me. - -O skies, be calm! O winds, blow free - -Blow all my ships safe home to me! -But if thou sendest some a-wrack, -To never more come sailing back, -Send any--all that skim the sea, -But bring my love-ship home to me. - - - -HER LOVE - - - -The sands upon the ocean side -That change about with every tide, -And never true to one abide, - A woman's love I liken to. - -The summer zephyrs, light and vain, -That sing the same alluring strain -To every grass blade on the plain - - A woman's love is nothing more. - -The sunshine of an April day -That comes to warm you with its ray, -But while you smile has flown away - - A woman's love is like to this. - -God made poor woman with no heart, -But gave her skill, and tact, and art, -And so she lives, and plays her part. - We must not blame, but pity her. - -She leans to man--but just to hear -The praise he whispers in her ear; -Herself, not him, she holdeth dear - - O fool! to be deceived by her. - -To sate her selfish thirst she quaffs -The love of strong hearts in sweet draughts, -Then throws them lightly by and laughs, - Too weak to understand their pain. - -As changeful as the winds that blow -From every region to and fro, -Devoid of heart, she cannot know - The suffering of a human heart. - - - -IF - - - -Dear love, if you and I could sail away, - With snowy pennons to the winds unfurled, -Across the waters of some unknown bay, - And find some island far from all the world; - -If we could dwell there, evermore alone, - While unrecorded years slip by apace, -Forgetting and forgotten and unknown - By aught save native song-birds of the place; - -If Winter never visited that land, - And Summer's lap spilled o'er with fruits and flowers, -And tropic trees cast shade on every hand, - And twined boughs formed sleep-inviting bowers; - -If from the fashions of the world set free, - And hid away from all its jealous strife, -I lived alone for you, and you for me - - Ah! then, dear love, how sweet were wedded life. - -But since we dwell here in the crowded way, - Where hurrying throngs rush by to seek for gold, -And all is commonplace and work-a-day - As soon as love's young honeymoon grows old; - -Since fashion rules and nature yields to art, - And life is hurt by daily jar and fret, -'Tis best to shut such dreams down in the heart - And go our ways alone, love, and forget. - - - -LOVE'S BURIAL - - - -Let us clear a little space, -And make Love a burial-place. - -He is dead, dear, as you see, -And he wearies you and me. - -Growing heavier, day by day, -Let us bury him, I say. - -Wings of dead white butterflies, -These shall shroud him, as he lies - -In his casket rich and rare, -Made of finest maiden-hair. - -With the pollen of the rose -Let us his white eyelids close. - -Put the rose thorn in his hand, -Shorn of leaves--you understand. - -Let some holy water fall -On his dead face, tears of gall - - -As we kneel to him and say, -"Dreams to dreams," and turn away. - -Those gravediggers, Doubt, Distrust, -They will lower him to the dust. - -Let us part here with a kiss - -You go that way, I go this. - -Since we buried Love to-day -We will walk a separate way. - - - - -"LOVE IS ENOUGH" - - - -Love is enough. Let us not ask for gold. - Wealth breeds false aims, and pride, and selfishness; -In those serene, Arcadian days of old - Men gave no thought to princely homes and dress. -The gods who dwelt on fair Olympia's height -Lived only for dear love and love's delight. - Love is enough. - -Love is enough. Why should we care for fame? - Ambition is a most unpleasant guest: -It lures us with the glory of a name - Far from the happy haunts of peace and rest. -Let us stay here in this secluded place -Made beautiful by love's endearing grace! - Love is enough. - -Love is enough. Why should we strive for power? - It brings men only envy and distrust. -The poor world's homage pleases but an hour, - And earthly honours vanish in the dust. -The grandest lives are ofttimes desolate; -Let me be loved, and let who will be great. - Love is enough. - -Love is enough. Why should we ask for more? - What greater gift have gods vouchsafed to men? -What better boon of all their precious store - Than our fond hearts that love and love again? -Old love may die; new love is just as sweet; -And life is fair and all the world complete: - Love is enough! - - - -LIFE IS A PRIVILEGE - - - -Life is a privilege. Its youthful days -Shine with the radiance of continuous Mays. -To live, to breathe, to wonder and desire, -To feed with dreams the heart's perpetual fire, -To thrill with virtuous passions, and to glow -With great ambitions--in one hour to know -The depths and heights of feeling--God! in truth, -How beautiful, how beautiful is youth! - -Life is a privilege. Like some rare rose -The mysteries of the human mind unclose. -What marvels lie in earth, and air, and sea! -What stores of knowledge wait our opening key! -What sunny roads of happiness lead out -Beyond the realms of indolence and doubt! -And what large pleasures smile upon and bless -The busy avenues of usefulness! - -Life is a privilege. Though noontide fades -And shadows fall along the winding glades, -Though joy-blooms wither in the autumn air, -Yet the sweet scent of sympathy is there. -Pale sorrow leads us closer to our kind, -And in the serious hours of life we find -Depths in the souls of men which lend new worth -And majesty to this brief span of earth. - -Life is a privilege. If some sad fate -Sends us alone to seek the exit gate, -If men forsake us and as shadows fall, -Still does the supreme privilege of all -Come in that reaching upward of the soul -To find the welcoming Presence at the goal, -And in the Knowledge that our feet have trod -Paths that led from, and must wind back, to God. - - - -INSIGHT - - - -Sirs, when you pity us, I say -You waste your pity. Let it stay, -Well corked and stored upon your shelves, -Until you need it for yourselves. - -We do appreciate God's thought -In forming you, before He brought -Us into life. His art was crude, -But oh! so virile in its rude, - -Large, elemental strength; and then -He learned His trade in making men, -Learned how to mix and mould the clay -And fashion in a finer way. - -How fine that skilful way can be -You need but lift your eyes to see; -And we are glad God placed you there -To lift your eyes and find us fair. - -Apprentice labour though you were, -He made you great enough to stir -The best and deepest depths of us, -And we are glad He made you thus. - -Aye! we are glad of many things; -God strung our hearts with such fine strings -The least breath moves them, and we hear -Music where silence greets your ear. - -We suffer so? But women's souls, -Like violet-powder dropped on coals, -Give forth their best in anguish. Oh -The subtle secrets that we know - -Of joy in sorrow, strange delights -Of ecstasy in pain-filled nights, -And mysteries of gain in loss -Known but to Christ upon the cross! - -Our tears are pitiful to you? -Look how the heaven-reflecting dew -Dissolves its life in tears. The sand -Meanwhile lies hard upon the strand. - -How could your pity find a place -For us, the mothers of the race? -Men may be fathers unaware, -So poor the title is you wear. - -But mothers--who that crown adorns -Knows all its mingled blooms and thorns, -And she whose feet that pain hath trod -Hath walked upon the heights with God. - -No, offer us not pity's cup. -There is no looking down or up -Between us; eye looks straight in eye: -Born equals, so we live and die. - - - -A WOMAN'S ANSWER - - - -You call me an angel of love and of light, - A being of goodness and heavenly fire, -Sent out from God's kingdom to guide you aright, - In paths where your spirit may mount and aspire, -You say that I glow like a star on its course, -Like a ray from the altar, a spark from the source. - -Now list to my answer--let all the world hear it, - I speak unafraid what I know to be true - -A pure, faithful love is the creative spirit - Which make women angels! I live but in you. -We are bound soul to soul by life's holiest laws; -If I am an angel--why, you are the cause. - -As my ship skims the sea, I look up from the deck. - Fair, firm at the wheel shines Love's beautiful form. -And shall I curse the bark that last night went to wreck - By the pilot abandoned to darkness and storm? -My craft is no stauncher, she too had been lost -Had the wheelman deserted, or slept at his post. - -I laid down the wealth of my soul at your feet - (Some woman does this for some man every day). -No desperate creature who walks in the street - Has a wickeder heart than I might have, I say, -Had you wantonly misused the treasures you won - -As so many men with heart-riches have done. - -This fire from God's altar, this holy love-flame, - That burns like sweet incense forever for you, -Might now be a wild conflagration of shame, - Had you tortured my heart, or been base or untrue. -For angels and devils are cast in one mould, -Till love guides them upward or downward, I hold. - -I tell you the women who make fervent wives - And sweet tender mothers, had Fate been less fair, -Are the women who might have abandoned their lives - To the madness that springs from and ends in despair. -As the fire on the hearth which sheds brightness around, -Neglected, may level the walls to the ground. - -The world makes grave errors in judging these things. - Great good and great evil are born in one breast: -Love horns us and hoofs us, or gives us our wings, - And the best could be worst, as the worst could be best. -You must thank your own worth for what I grew to be, -For the demon lurked under the angel in me. - - - -THE WORLD'S NEED - - - -So many gods, so many creeds, - So many paths that wind and wind, - While just the art of being kind, -Is all the sad world needs. - - - - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, POEMS OF POWER *** - -This file should be named ppow10.txt or ppow10.zip -Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, ppow11.txt -VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, ppow10a.txt - -Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US -unless a copyright notice is included. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* - diff --git a/old/ppow10.zip b/old/ppow10.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index a293e9e..0000000 --- a/old/ppow10.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/ppow10h.htm b/old/ppow10h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 5341a4f..0000000 --- a/old/ppow10h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,2402 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html - PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html> -<head> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> -<title>Poems of Power</title> -</head> -<body> -<h2> -<a href="#startoftext">Poems of Power, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox</a> -</h2> -<pre> -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Poems of Power, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox -(#12 in our series by Ella Wheeler Wilcox) - -Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the -copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing -this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. - -This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project -Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the -header without written permission. - -Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the -eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is -important information about your specific rights and restrictions in -how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a -donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. - - -**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** - -**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** - -*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** - - -Title: Poems of Power - -Author: Ella Wheeler Wilcox - -Release Date: October, 2004 [EBook #6667] -[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] -[This file was first posted on January 10, 2003] - -Edition: 10 - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ASCII -</pre> -<p><a name="startoftext"></a></p> -<p>Transcribed from the 1918 Gay and Hancock edition by David Price, -email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> -<h1>POEMS OF POWER</h1> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> -<p>Contents:<br /> Note<br /> The -Queen’s last ride<br /> The Meeting of the Centuries<br /> Death -has Crowned him a Martyr<br /> Grief<br /> Illusion<br /> Assertion<br /> I -Am<br /> Wishing<br /> We two<br /> The -Poet’s Theme<br /> Song of the Spirit<br /> Womanhood<br /> Morning -Prayer<br /> The Voices of the People<br /> The -World grows Better<br /> A Man’s Ideal<br /> The -Fire Brigade<br /> The Tides<br /> When -the Regiment came back<br /> Woman to Man<br /> The -Traveller<br /> The Earth<br /> Now<br /> You -and To-day<br /> The Reason<br /> Mission<br /> Repetition<br /> Begin -the Day<br /> Words<br /> Fate and -I<br /> Attainment<br /> A Plea to -Peace<br /> Presumption<br /> High -Noon<br /> Thought-magnets<br /> Smiles<br /> The -Undiscovered Country<br /> The Universal Route<br /> Unanswered -Prayers<br /> Thanksgiving<br /> Contrasts<br /> Thy -Ship<br /> Life<br /> A Marine Etching<br /> “Love -Thyself Last”<br /> Christmas Fancies<br /> The -River<br /> Sorry<br /> Ambition’s -trail<br /> Uncontrolled<br /> Will<br /> To -an Astrologer<br /> The Tendril’s Fate<br /> The -Times<br /> The Question<br /> Sorrow’s -Uses<br /> If<br /> Which are you?<br /> The -Creed to be<br /> Inspiration<br /> The -Wish<br /> Three Friends<br /> You -never can tell<br /> Here and now<br /> Unconquered<br /> All -that love asks<br /> “Does it pay?”<br /> Sestina<br /> The -Optimist<br /> The Pessimist<br /> An -Inspiration<br /> Life’s Harmonies<br /> Preparation<br /> Gethsemane<br /> God’s -Measure<br /> Noblesse Oblige<br /> Through -Tears<br /> What we Need<br /> Plea -to Science<br /> Respite<br /> Song<br /> My -Ships<br /> Her Love<br /> If<br /> Love’s -burial<br /> “Love is enough”<br /> Life -is a Privilege<br /> Insight<br /> A -Woman’s Answer<br /> The World’s Need</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>NOTE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>The final word in the title of this volume refers to the DIVINE POWER -in every human being, the recognition of which is the secret to all -success and happiness. It is this idea which many of the verses -endeavour to illustrate.</p> -<p>E. W. W.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE QUEEN’S LAST RIDE<br />(Written on the day of Queen Victoria’s -funeral)</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>The Queen is taking a drive to-day,<br />They have hung with purple -the carriage-way,<br />They have dressed with purple the royal track<br />Where -the Queen goes forth and never comes back.</p> -<p>Let no man labour as she goes by<br />On her last appearance to mortal -eye:<br />With heads uncovered let all men wait<br />For the Queen to -pass, in her regal state.</p> -<p>Army and Navy shall lead the way<br />For that wonderful coach of -the Queen’s to-day.<br />Kings and Princes and Lords of the land<br />Shall -ride behind her, a humble band;<br />And over the city and over the -world<br />Shall the Flags of all Nations be half-mast-furled,<br />For -the silent lady of royal birth<br />Who is riding away from the Courts -of earth,<br />Riding away from the world’s unrest<br />To a mystical -goal, on a secret quest.</p> -<p>Though in royal splendour she drives through town,<br />Her robes -are simple, she wears no crown:<br />And yet she wears one, for, widowed -no more,<br />She is crowned with the love that has gone before,<br />And -crowned with the love she has left behind<br />In the hidden depths -of each mourner’s mind.</p> -<p>Bow low your heads - lift your hearts on high -<br />The Queen in -silence is driving by!</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE MEETING OF THE CENTURIES</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>A curious vision on mine eyes unfurled<br /> In -the deep night. I saw, or seemed to see,<br /> Two -Centuries meet, and sit down vis-à-vis<br />Across the great -round table of the world:<br />One with suggested sorrows in his mien,<br /> And -on his brow the furrowed lines of thought;<br /> And -one whose glad expectant presence brought<br />A glow and radiance from -the realms unseen.</p> -<p>Hand clasped with hand, in silence for a space<br /> The -Centuries sat; the sad old eyes of one<br /> (As grave -paternal eyes regard a son)<br />Gazing upon that other eager face.<br />And -then a voice, as cadenceless and gray<br /> As the -sea’s monody in winter time,<br /> Mingled with -tones melodious, as the chime<br />Of bird choirs, singing in the dawns -of May.</p> -<p>THE OLD CENTURY SPEAKS</p> -<p>By you, Hope stands. With me, Experience walks.<br />Like a -fair jewel in a faded box,<br />In my tear-rusted heart, sweet Pity -lies.<br />For all the dreams that look forth from your eyes,<br />And -those bright-hued ambitions, which I know<br />Must fall like leaves -and perish, in Time’s snow,<br />(Even as my soul’s garden -stands bereft,)<br />I give you pity! ’tis the one gift left.</p> -<p>THE NEW CENTURY</p> -<p>Nay, nay, good friend! not pity, but Godspeed,<br />Here in the morning -of my life I need.<br />Counsel, and not condolence; smiles, not tears,<br />To -guide me through the channels of the years.<br />Oh, I am blinded by -the blaze of light<br />That shines upon me from the Infinite.<br />Blurred -is my vision by the close approach<br />To unseen shores, whereon the -times encroach.</p> -<p>THE OLD CENTURY</p> -<p>Illusion, all illusion. List and hear<br />The Godless cannons, -booming far and near.<br />Flaunting the flag of Unbelief, with Greed<br />For -pilot, lo! the pirate age in speed<br />Bears on to ruin. War’s -most hideous crimes<br />Besmirch the record of these modern times.<br />Degenerate -is the world I leave to you, -<br />My happiest speech to earth will -be - adieu.</p> -<p>THE NEW CENTURY</p> -<p>You speak as one too weary to be just.<br />I hear the guns - I see -the greed and lust.<br />The death throes of a giant evil fill<br />The -air with riot and confusion. Ill<br />Ofttimes makes fallow ground -for Good; and Wrong<br />Builds Right’s foundation, when it grows -too strong.<br />Pregnant with promise is the hour, and grand<br />The -trust you leave in my all-willing hand.</p> -<p>THE OLD CENTURY</p> -<p>As one who throws a flickering taper’s ray<br />To light departing -feet, my shadowed way<br />You brighten with your faith. Faith -makes the man<br />Alas, that my poor foolish age outran<br />Its early -trust in God! The death of art<br />And progress follows, when -the world’s hard heart<br />Casts out religion. ’Tis -the human brain<br />Men worship now, and heaven, to them, means - gain.</p> -<p>THE NEW CENTURY</p> -<p>Faith is not dead, tho’ priest and creed may pass,<br />For -thought has leavened the whole unthinking mass,<br />And man looks now -to find the God within.<br />We shall talk more of love, and less of -sin,<br />In this new era. We are drawing near<br />Unatlassed -boundaries of a larger sphere.<br />With awe, I wait, till Science leads -us on,<br />Into the full effulgence of its dawn.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>DEATH HAS CROWNED HIM A MARTYR<br />(Written on the day of President -McKinley’s death)</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>In the midst of sunny waters, lo! the mighty Ship of State<br />Staggers, -bruised and torn and wounded by a derelict of fate,<br />One that drifted -from its moorings in the anchorage of hate.</p> -<p>On the deck our noble Pilot, in the glory of his prime,<br />Lies -in woe-impelling silence, dead before his hour or time,<br />Victim -of a mind self-centred in a Godless fool of crime.</p> -<p>One of earth’s dissension-breeders, one of Hate’s unreasoning -tools,<br />In the annals of the ages, when the world’s hot anger -cools,<br />He who sought for Crime’s distinction shall be known -as Chief of Fools.</p> -<p>In the annals of the ages, he who had no thought of fame<br />(Keeping -on the path of duty, caring not for praise or blame),<br />Close beside -the deathless Lincoln, writ in light, will shine his name.</p> -<p>Youth proclaimed him as a hero; time, a statesman; love, a man;<br />Death -has crowned him as a martyr, - so from goal to goal he ran,<br />Knowing -all the sum of glory that a human life may span.</p> -<p>He was chosen by the people; not an accident of birth<br />Made him -ruler of a nation, but his own intrinsic worth.<br />Fools may govern -over kingdoms - not republics of the earth.</p> -<p>He has raised the lovers’ standard by his loyalty and faith,<br />He -has shown how virile manhood may keep free from scandal’s breath.<br />He -has gazed, with trust unshaken, in the awful eyes of Death.</p> -<p>In the mighty march of progress he has sought to do his best.<br />Let -his enemies be silent, as we lay him down to rest,<br />And may God -assuage the anguish of one suffering woman’s breast.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>GRIEF</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>As the funeral train with its honoured dead<br /> On -its mournful way went sweeping,<br />While a sorrowful nation bowed -its head<br /> And the whole world joined in weeping,<br />I -thought, as I looked on the solemn sight,<br /> Of -the one fond heart despairing,<br />And I said to myself, as in truth -I might,<br /> “How sad must be this <i>sharing</i>.”</p> -<p>To share the living with even Fame,<br /> For a -heart that is only human,<br />Is hard, when Glory asserts her claim<br /> Like -a bold, insistent woman;<br />Yet a great, grand passion can put aside<br /> Or -stay each selfish emotion,<br />And watch, with a pleasure that springs -from pride,<br /> Its rival - the world’s devotion.</p> -<p>But Death should render to love its own,<br /> And -my heart bowed down and sorrowed<br />For the stricken woman who wept -alone<br /> While even her <i>dead</i> was borrowed;<br />Borrowed -from her, the bride - the wife -<br /> For the world’s -last martial honour,<br />As she sat in the gloom of her darkened life,<br /> With -her widow’s grief fresh upon her.</p> -<p>He had shed the glory of Love and Fame<br /> In -a golden halo about her;<br />She had shared his triumphs and worn his -name:<br /> But, alas! he had died without her.<br />He -had wandered in many a distant realm,<br /> And never -had left her behind him,<br />But now, with a spectral shape at the -helm,<br /> He had sailed where she could not find -him.</p> -<p>It was only a thought, that came that day<br /> In -the midst of the muffled drumming<br />And funeral music and sad display,<br /> That -I knew was right and becoming<br />Only a thought as the mourning train<br /> Moved, -column after column,<br />Bearing the dead to the burial plain<br /> With -a reverence grand as solemn.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>ILLUSION</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>God and I in space alone<br /> And nobody else in -view.<br />“And where are the people, O Lord,” I said,<br />“The -earth below, and the sky o’er head,<br /> And -the dead whom once I knew?”</p> -<p>“That was a dream,” God smiled and said -<br /> “A -dream that seemed to be true.<br />There were no people, living or dead,<br />There -was no earth, and no sky o’erhead;<br /> There -was only Myself - in you.”</p> -<p>“Why do I feel no fear,” I asked,<br /> “Meeting -You here this way?<br />For I have sinned I know full well?<br />And -is there heaven, and is there hell,<br /> And is this -the judgment day?”</p> -<p>“Say, those were but dreams,” the Great God said,<br /> “Dreams, -that have ceased to be.<br />There are no such things as fear or sin,<br />There -is no you - you never have been -<br /> There is nothing -at all but <i>Me</i>.”</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>ASSERTION</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>I am serenity. Though passions beat<br /> Like -mighty billows on my helpless heart,<br />I know beyond them lies the -perfect sweet<br /> Serenity, which patience can impart.<br />And -when wild tempests in my bosom rage,<br />“Peace, peace,” -I cry, “it is my heritage.”</p> -<p>I am good health. Though fevers rack my brain<br /> And -rude disorders mutilate my strength,<br />A perfect restoration after -pain,<br /> I know shall be my recompense at length.<br />And -so through grievous day and sleepless night,<br />“Health, health,” -I cry, “it is my own by right.”</p> -<p>I am success. Though hungry, cold, ill-clad,<br /> I -wander for awhile, I smile and say,<br />“It is but for a time -- I shall be glad<br /> To-morrow, for good fortune -comes my way.<br />God is my father, He has wealth untold,<br />His -wealth is mine, health, happiness, and gold.”</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>I AM</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>I know not whence I came,<br /> I know not whither -I go;<br />But the fact stands clear that I am here<br /> In -this world of pleasure and woe.<br />And out of the mist and murk<br /> Another -truth shines plain -<br />It is my power each day and hour<br /> To -add to its joy or its pain.</p> -<p>I know that the earth exists,<br /> It is none of -my business why;<br />I cannot find out what it’s all about,<br /> I -would but waste time to try.<br />My life is a brief, brief thing,<br /> I -am here for a little space,<br />And while I stay I would like, if I -may,<br /> To brighten and better the place.</p> -<p>The trouble, I think, with us all<br /> Is the lack -of a high conceit.<br />If each man thought he was sent to this spot<br /> To -make it a bit more sweet,<br />How soon we could gladden the world,<br /> How -easily right all wrong,<br />If nobody shirked, and each one worked<br /> To -help his fellows along!</p> -<p>Cease wondering why you came -<br /> Stop looking -for faults and flaws;<br />Rise up to-day in your pride and say,<br /> “I -am part of the First Great Cause!<br />However full the world,<br /> There -is room for an earnest man.<br />It had need of me, or I would not be --<br /> I am here to strengthen the plan.”</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>WISHING</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Do you wish the world were better?<br /> Let me -tell you what to do:<br />Set a watch upon your actions,<br /> Keep -them always straight and true;<br />Rid your mind of selfish motives;<br /> Let -your thoughts be clean and high.<br />You can make a little Eden<br /> Of -the sphere you occupy.</p> -<p>Do you wish the world were wiser?<br /> Well, suppose -you make a start,<br />By accumulating wisdom<br /> In -the scrapbook of your heart:<br />Do not waste one page on folly;<br /> Live -to learn, and learn to live.<br />If you want to give men knowledge<br /> You -must get it, ere you give.</p> -<p>Do you wish the world were happy?<br /> Then remember -day by day<br />Just to scatter seeds of kindness<br /> As -you pass along the way;<br />For the pleasures of the many<br /> May -be ofttimes traced to one,<br />As the hand that plants an acorn<br /> Shelters -armies from the sun.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>WE TWO</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p> We two make home of any place we go;<br />We two -find joy in any kind of weather;<br /> Or if the earth -is clothed in bloom or snow,<br /> If summer days invite, -or bleak winds blow,<br />What matters it if we two are together?<br />We -two, we two, we make our world, our weather.</p> -<p> We two make banquets of the plainest fare;<br />In -every cup we find the thrill of pleasure;<br /> We -hide with wreaths the furrowed brow of care,<br /> And -win to smiles the set lips of despair.<br />For us life always moves -with lilting measure;<br />We two, we two, we make our world, our pleasure.</p> -<p> We two find youth renewed with every dawn;<br />Each -day holds something of an unknown glory.<br /> We waste -no thought on grief or pleasure gone;<br /> Tricked -out like hope, time leads us on and on,<br />And thrums upon his harp -new song or story.<br />We two, we two, we find the paths of glory.</p> -<p> We two make heaven here on this little earth;<br />We -do not need to wait for realms eternal.<br /> We know -the use of tears, know sorrow’s worth,<br /> And -pain for us is always love’s rebirth.<br />Our paths lead closely -by the paths supernal;<br />We two, we two, we live in love eternal.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE POET’S THEME</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>What is the explanation of the strange silence of American poets -concerning American triumphs on sea and land?<br /><i>Literary Digest.</i></p> -<p>Why should the poet of these pregnant times<br />Be asked to sing -of war’s unholy crimes?</p> -<p>To laud and eulogize the trade which thrives<br />On horrid holocausts -of human lives?</p> -<p>Man was a fighting beast when earth was young,<br />And war the only -theme when Homer sung.</p> -<p>’Twixt might and might the equal contest lay,<br />Not so the -battles of our modern day.</p> -<p>Too often now the conquering hero struts<br />A Gulliver among the -Liliputs.</p> -<p>Success no longer rests on skill or fate,<br />But on the movements -of a syndicate.</p> -<p>Of old men fought and deemed it right and just.<br />To-day the warrior -fights because he must,</p> -<p>And in his secret soul feels shame because<br />He desecrates the -higher manhood’s laws</p> -<p>Oh! there are worthier themes for poet’s pen<br />In this great -hour, than bloody deeds of men</p> -<p>Or triumphs of one hero (though he be<br />Deserving song for his -humility):</p> -<p>The rights of many - not the worth of one;<br />The coming issues -- not the battle done;</p> -<p>The awful opulence, and awful need;<br />The rise of brotherhood -- the fall of greed,</p> -<p>The soul of man replete with God’s own force,<br />The call -“to heights,” and not the cry “to horse,” -</p> -<p>Are there not better themes in this great age<br />For pen of poet, -or for voice of sage</p> -<p>Than those old tales of killing? Song is dumb<br />Only that -greater song in time may come.</p> -<p>When comes the bard, he whom the world waits for,<br />He will not -sing of War.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>SONG OF THE SPIRIT</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>All the aim of life is just<br /> Getting back to -God.<br />Spirit casting off its dust,<br /> Getting -back to God.<br />Every grief we have to bear<br />Disappointment, cross, -despair<br />Each is but another stair<br /> Climbing -back to God.</p> -<p>Step by step and mile by mile -<br /> Getting back -to God;<br />Nothing else is worth the while -<br /> Getting -back to God.<br />Light and shadow fill each day<br />Joys and sorrows -pass away,<br />Smile at all, and smiling, say,<br /> Getting -back to God.</p> -<p>Do not wear a mournful face<br /> Getting back to -God;<br />Scatter sunshine on the place<br /> Going -back to God;<br />Take what pleasure you can find,<br />But where’er -your paths may wind.<br />Keep the purpose well in mind, -<br /> Getting -back to God.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>WOMANHOOD</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>She must be honest, both in thought and deed,<br />Of generous impulse, -and above all greed;<br />Not seeking praise, or place, or power, or -pelf,<br />But life’s best blessings for her higher self,<br />Which -means the best for all.<br /> She -must have faith,<br />To make good friends of Trouble, Pain, and Death,<br />And -understand their message.<br /> She -should be<br />As redolent with tender sympathy<br />As is a rose with -fragrance.<br /> Cheerfulness<br />Should -be her mantle, even though her dress<br />May be of Sorrow’s weaving.<br /> On -her face<br />A loyal nature leaves its seal of grace,<br />And chastity -is in her atmosphere.<br />Not that chill chastity which seems austere<br />(Like -untrod snow-peaks, lovely to behold<br />Till once attained - then barren, -loveless, cold);<br />But the white flame that feeds upon the soul<br />And -lights the pathway to a peaceful goal.<br />A sense of humour, and a -touch of mirth,<br />To brighten up the shadowy spots of earth;<br />And -pride that passes evil - choosing good.<br />All these unite in perfect -womanhood.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>MORNING PRAYER</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Let me to-day do something that shall take<br /> A -little sadness from the world’s vast store,<br />And may I be -so favoured as to make<br /> Of joy’s too scanty -sum a little more<br />Let me not hurt, by any selfish deed<br /> Or -thoughtless word, the heart of foe or friend;<br />Nor would I pass, -unseeing, worthy need,<br /> Or sin by silence when -I should defend.<br />However meagre be my worldly wealth,<br /> Let -me give something that shall aid my. kind -<br />A word of courage, -or a thought of health,<br /> Dropped as I pass for -troubled hearts to find.<br />Let me to-night look back across the span<br /> ’Twixt -dawn and dark, and to my conscience say -<br />Because of some good -act to beast or man -<br /> “The world is better -that I lived to-day.”</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE VOICES OF THE PEOPLE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Oh! I hear the people calling through the day time and the night -time,<br />They are calling, they are crying for the coming of the right -time.<br />It behooves you, men and women, it behooves you to be heeding,<br />For -there lurks a note of menace underneath their plaintive pleading.</p> -<p>Let the land usurpers listen, let the greedy-hearted ponder,<br />On -the meaning of the murmur, rising here and swelling yonder,<br />Swelling -louder, waxing stronger, like a storm-fed stream that courses<br />Through -the valleys, down abysses, growing, gaining with new forces.</p> -<p>Day by day the river widens, that great river of opinion,<br />And -its torrent beats and plunges at the base of greed’s dominion.<br />Though -you dam it by oppression and fling golden bridges o’er it,<br />Yet -the day and hour advances when in fright you’ll flee before it.</p> -<p>Yes, I hear the people calling, through the night time and the day -time,<br />Wretched toilers in life’s autumn, weary young ones -in life’s May time -<br />They are crying, they are calling for -their share of work and pleasure;<br />You are heaping high your coffers -while you give them scanty measure, -<br />You have stolen God’s -wide acres, just to glut your swollen purses -<br />Oh! restore them -to His children ere their pleading turns to curses.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE WORLD GROWS BETTER</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Oh! the earth is full of sinning<br /> And of trouble -and of woe,<br />But the devil makes an inning<br /> Every -time we say it’s so.<br />And the way to set him scowling,<br /> And -to put him back a pace,<br />Is to stop this stupid growling,<br /> And -to look things in the face.</p> -<p>If you glance at history’s pages,<br /> In -all lands and eras known,<br />You will find the buried ages<br /> Far -more wicked than our own.<br />As you scan each word and letter.<br /> You -will realise it more,<br />That the world to-day is better<br /> Than -it ever was before.</p> -<p>There is much that needs amending<br /> In the present -time, no doubt;<br />There is right that needs amending,<br /> There -is wrong needs crushing out.<br />And we hear the groans and curses<br /> Of -the poor who starve and die,<br />While the men with swollen purses<br /> In -the place of hearts go by.</p> -<p>But in spite of all the trouble<br /> That obscures -the sun to-day,<br />Just remember it was double<br /> In -the ages passed away.<br />And those wrongs shall all be righted,<br /> Good -shall dominate the land,<br />For the darkness now is lighted<br /> By -the torch in Science’s hand.</p> -<p>Forth from little motes in Chaos,<br /> We have -come to what we are;<br />And no evil force can stay us -<br /> We -shall mount from star to star,<br />We shall break each bond and fetter<br /> That -has bound us heretofore;<br />And the earth is surely better<br /> Than -it ever was before.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>A MAN’S IDEAL</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>A lovely little keeper of the home,<br />Absorbed in menu books, -yet erudite<br />When I need counsel; quick at repartee<br />And slow -to anger. Modest as a flower,<br />Yet scintillant and radiant -as a star.<br />Unmercenary in her mould of mind,<br />While opulent -and dainty in her tastes.<br />A nature generous and free, albeit<br />The -incarnation of economy.<br />She must be chaste as proud Diana was,<br />Yet -warm as Venus. To all others cold<br />As some white glacier glittering -in the sun;<br />To me as ardent as the sensuous rose<br />That yields -its sweetness to the burrowing bee<br />All ignorant of evil in the -world,<br />And innocent as any cloistered nun,<br />Yet wise as Phryne -in the arts of love<br />When I come thirsting to her nectared lips.<br />Good -as the best, and tempting as the worst,<br />A saint, a siren, and a -paradox.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE FIRE BRIGADE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Hark! high o’er the rattle and clamour and clatter<br /> Of -traffic-filled streets, do you hear that loud noise?<br />And pushing -and rushing to see what’s the matter,<br /> Like -herds of wild cattle, go pell-mell the boys.</p> -<p>There’s a fire in the city! the engines are coming!<br /> The -bold bells are clanging, “Make way in the street!”<br />The -wheels of the hose-cart are spinning and humming<br /> In -time to the music of galloping feet.</p> -<p>Make way there! make way there! the horses are flying,<br /> The -sparks from their swift hoofs shoot higher and higher,<br />The crowds -are increasing - the gamins are crying:<br /> “Hooray, -boys!” “Hooray, boys!” “Come on -to the fire!”</p> -<p>With clanging and banging and clatter and rattle<br /> The -long ladders follow the engine and hose.<br />The men are all ready -to dash into battle;<br /> But will they come out again? -God only knows.</p> -<p>At windows and doorways crowd questioning faces;<br /> There’s -something about it that quickens one’s breath.<br />How proudly -the brave fellows sit in their places -<br /> And speed -to the conflict that may be their death!</p> -<p>Still faster and faster and faster and faster<br /> The -grand horses thunder and leap on their way<br />The red foe is yonder, -and may prove the master;<br /> Turn out there, bold -traffic - turn out there, I say!</p> -<p>For once the loud truckman knows oaths will not matter<br /> And -reins in his horses and yields to his fate.<br />The engines are coming! -let pleasure-crowds scatter,<br /> Let street car and -truckman and mail waggon wait.</p> -<p>They speed like a comet - they pass in a minute;<br /> The -boys follow on like a tail to a kite;<br />The commonplace street has -but traffic now in it -<br /> The great fire engines -have swept out of sight.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE TIDES</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Be careful what rubbish you toss in the tide.<br /> On -outgoing billows it drifts from your sight,<br />But back on the incoming -waves it may ride<br /> And land at your threshold -again before night.<br />Be careful what rubbish you toss in the tide.</p> -<p>Be careful what follies you toss in life’s sea.<br /> On -bright dancing billows they drift far away,<br />But back on the Nemesis -tides they may be<br /> Thrown down at your threshold -an unwelcome day<br />Be careful what follies you toss in youth’s -sea.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> -<h2>WHEN THE REGIMENT CAME BACK</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>All the uniforms were blue, all the swords were bright and new,<br /> When -the regiment went marching down the street,<br />All the men were hale -and strong as they proudly moved along,<br /> Through -the cheers that drowned the music of their feet.<br />Oh the music of -the feet keeping time to drums that beat,<br /> Oh -the splendour and the glitter of the sight,<br />As with swords and -rifles new and in uniforms of blue<br /> The regiment -went marching to the fight!</p> -<p>When the regiment came back all the guns and swords were black<br /> And -the uniforms had faded out to gray,<br />And the faces of the men who -marched through that street again<br /> Seemed like -faces of the dead who lose their way.<br />For the dead who lose their -way cannot look more wan and gray.<br /> Oh the sorrow -and the pity of the sight,<br />Oh the weary lagging feet out of step -with drums that beat,<br /> As the regiment comes marching -from the fight.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>WOMAN TO MAN</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Woman is man’s enemy, rival, and competitor. - JOHN. J. INGALLS.</p> -<p>You do but jest, sir, and you jest not well,<br />How could the hand -be enemy of the arm,<br />Or seed and sod be rivals! How could -light<br />Feel jealousy of heat, plant of the leaf,<br />Or competition -dwell ’twixt lip and smile?<br />Are we not part and parcel of -yourselves?<br />Like strands in one great braid we entertwine<br />And -make the perfect whole. You could not be,<br />Unless we gave -you birth; we are the soil<br />From which you sprang, yet sterile were -that soil<br />Save as you planted. (Though in the Book we read<br />One -woman bore a child with no man’s aid,<br />We find no record of -a man-child born<br />Without the aid of woman! Fatherhood<br />Is -but a small achievement at the best,<br />While motherhood comprises -heaven and hell.)<br />This ever-growing argument of sex<br />Is most -unseemly, and devoid of sense.<br />Why waste more time in controversy, -when<br />There is not time enough for all of love,<br />Our rightful -occupation in this life?<br />Why prate of our defects, of where we -fail,<br />When just the story of our worth would need<br />Eternity -for telling, and our best<br />Development comes ever through your praise,<br />As -through our praise you reach your highest self?<br />Oh! had you not -been miser of your praise<br />And let our virtues be their own reward,<br />The -old-established order of the world<br />Would never have been changed. -Small blame is ours<br />For this unsexing of ourselves, and worse.<br />Effeminising -of the male. We were<br />Content, sir, till you starved us, heart -and brain.<br />All we have done, or wise, or otherwise,<br />Traced -to the root, was done for love of you.<br />Let us taboo all vain comparisons,<br />And -go forth as God meant us, hand in hand,<br />Companions, mates, and -comrades evermore;<br />Two parts of one divinely ordained whole.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE TRAVELLER</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Reply to Rudyard Kipling’s “He travels the fastest who -travels alone.”</p> -<p>Who travels alone with his eyes on the heights,<br />Though he laughs -in the day time oft weeps in the nights;</p> -<p>For courage goes down at the set of the sun,<br />When the toil of -the journey is all borne by one.</p> -<p>He speeds but to grief though full gaily he ride<br />Who travels -alone without love at his side.</p> -<p>Who travels alone without lover or friend<br />But hurries from nothing, -to naught at the end.</p> -<p>Though great be his winnings and high be his goal,<br />He is bankrupt -in wisdom and beggared in soul.</p> -<p>Life’s one gift of value to him is denied<br />Who travels -alone without love at his side.</p> -<p>It is easy enough in this world to make haste<br />If one live for -that purpose - but think of the waste;</p> -<p>For life is a poem to leisurely read,<br />And the joy of the journey -lies not in its speed.</p> -<p>Oh! vain his achievement and petty his pride<br />Who travels alone -without love at his side.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE EARTH</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>The earth is yours and mine,<br /> Our God’s -bequest.<br />That testament divine<br /> Who dare -contest?</p> -<p>Usurpers of the earth,<br /> We claim our share.<br />We -are of royal birth.<br /> Beware! beware!</p> -<p>Unloose the hand of greed<br /> From God’s -fair land,<br />We claim but what we need -<br /> That, -we demand.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>NOW</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>I leave with God to-morrow’s where and how,<br />And do concern -myself but with the Now,<br />That little word, though half the future’s -length,<br />Well used, holds twice its meaning and its strength.</p> -<p>Like one blindfolded groping out his way,<br />I will not try to -touch beyond to-day.<br />Since all the future is concealed from sight<br />I -need but strive to make the next step right.</p> -<p>That done, the next, and so on, till I find<br />Perchance some day -I am no longer blind,<br />And looking up, behold a radiant Friend<br />Who -says, “Rest, now, for you have reached the end.”</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>YOU AND TO-DAY</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>With every rising of the sun<br />Think of your life as just begun.</p> -<p>The past has shrived and buried deep<br />All yesterdays - there -let them sleep,</p> -<p>Nor seek to summon back one ghost<br />Of that innumerable host.</p> -<p>Concern yourself with but to-day;<br />Woo it and teach it to obey</p> -<p>Your wish and will. Since time began<br />To-day has been the -friend of man.</p> -<p>But in his blindness and his sorrow<br />He looks to yesterday and -to-morrow.</p> -<p>You and to-day! a soul sublime<br />And the great pregnant hour of -time.</p> -<p>With God between to bind the train,<br />Go forth, I say - attain -- attain.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE REASON</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Do you know what moves the tides<br /> As they swing -from low to high?<br />’Tis the love, love, love,<br /> Of -the moon within the sky.<br />Oh! they follow where she guides,<br />Do -the faithful-hearted tides.</p> -<p>Do you know what moves the earth<br /> Out of winter -into spring?<br />’Tis the love, love, love,<br /> Of -the sun, the mighty king.<br />Oh the rapture that finds birth<br />In -the kiss of sun and earth!</p> -<p>Do you know what makes sweet songs<br /> Ring for -me above earth’s strife?<br />’Tis the love, love, love,<br /> That -you bring into my life,<br />Oh the glory of the songs<br />In the heart -where love belongs!</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>MISSION</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>If you are sighing for a lofty work,<br /> If great -ambitions dominate your mind,<br />Just watch yourself and see you do -not shirk<br /> The common little ways of being kind.</p> -<p>If you are dreaming of a future goal,<br /> When, -crowned with glory, men shall own your power,<br />Be careful that you -let no struggling soul<br /> Go by unaided in the present -hour.</p> -<p>If you are moved to pity for the earth,<br /> And -long to aid it, do not look so high,<br />You pass some poor, dumb creature -faint with thirst -<br /> All life is equal in the -eternal eye.</p> -<p>If you would help to make the wrong things right,<br /> Begin -at home: there lies a lifetime’s toil.<br />Weed your own garden -fair for all men’s sight,<br /> Before you plan -to till another’s soil.</p> -<p>God chooses His own leaders in the world,<br /> And -from the rest He asks but willing hands.<br />As mighty mountains into -place are hurled,<br /> While patient tides may only -shape the sands.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>REPETITION</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Over and over and over<br /> These truths I will -weave in song -<br />That God’s great plan needs you and me,<br />That -will is greater than destiny,<br /> And that love moves -the world along.</p> -<p>However mankind may doubt it,<br /> It shall listen -and hear my creed -<br />That God may ever be found within,<br />That -the worship of self is the only sin,<br /> And the -only devil is greed.</p> -<p>Over and over and over<br /> These truths I will -say and sing,<br />That love is mightier far than hate,<br />That a -man’s own thought is a man’s own fate,<br /> And -that life is a goodly thing.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>BEGIN THE DAY</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Begin each morning with a talk to God,<br />And ask for your divine -inheritance<br />Of usefulness, contentment, and success.<br />Resign -all fear, all doubt, and all despair.<br />The stars doubt not, and -they are undismayed,<br />Though whirled through space for countless -centuries,<br />And told not why or wherefore: and the sea<br />With -everlasting ebb and flow obeys,<br />And leaves the purpose with the -unseen Cause.<br />The star sheds radiance on a million worlds,<br />The -sea is prodigal with waves, and yet<br />No lustre from the star is -lost, and not<br />One drop is missing from the ocean tides.<br />Oh! -brother to the star and sea, know all<br />God’s opulence is held -in trust for those<br />Who wait serenely and who work in faith.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>WORDS</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Words are great forces in the realm of life:<br /> Be -careful of their use. Who talks of hate,<br />Of poverty, of sickness, -but sets rife<br /> These very elements to mar his -fate.</p> -<p>When love, health, happiness, and plenty hear<br /> Their -names repeated over day by day,<br />They wing their way like answering -fairies near,<br /> Then nestle down within our homes -to stay.</p> -<p>Who talks of evil conjures into shape<br /> The -formless thing and gives it life and scope.<br />This is the law: then -let no word escape<br /> That does not breathe of everlasting -hope.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>FATE AND I</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Wise men tell me thou, O Fate,<br />Art invincible and great.</p> -<p>Well, I own thy prowess; still<br />Dare I flout thee with my will</p> -<p>Thou canst shatter in a span<br />All the earthly pride of man.</p> -<p>Outward things thou canst control;<br />But stand back - I rule my -soul!</p> -<p>Death? ’Tis such a little thing -<br />Scarcely worth -the mentioning.</p> -<p>What has death to do with me,<br />Save to set my spirit free?</p> -<p>Something in me dwells, O Fate,<br />That can rise and dominate</p> -<p>Loss, and sorrow, and disaster, -<br />How, then, Fate, art thou -my master?</p> -<p>In the great primeval morn<br />My immortal will was born,</p> -<p>Part of that stupendous Cause<br />Which conceived the Solar Laws,</p> -<p>Lit the suns and filled the seas,<br />Royalest of pedigrees.</p> -<p>That great Cause was Love, the Source<br />Who most loves has most -of Force.</p> -<p>He who harbours Hate one hour<br />Saps the soul of Peace and Power.</p> -<p>He who will not hate his foe<br />Need not dread life’s hardest -blow.</p> -<p>In the realm of brotherhood<br />Wishing no man aught but good,</p> -<p>Naught but good can come to me -<br />This is Love’s supreme -decree.</p> -<p>Since I bar my door to Hate,<br />What have I to fear, O Fate?</p> -<p>Since I fear not - Fate I vow,<br />I the ruler am, not thou!</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>ATTAINMENT</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Use all your hidden forces. Do not miss<br />The purpose of -this life, and do not wait<br />For circumstance to mould or change -your fate;<br />In your own self lies Destiny. Let this<br />Vast -truth cast out all fear, all prejudice,<br />All hesitation. Know -that you are great,<br />Great with divinity. So dominate<br />Environment, -and enter into bliss.<br />Love largely and hate nothing. Hold -no aim<br />That does not chord with universal good.<br />Hear what -the voices of the Silence say -<br />All joys are yours if you put forth -your claim.<br />Once let the spiritual laws be understood,<br />Material -things must answer and obey.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>A PLEA TO PEACE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>When mighty issues loom before us, all<br />The petty great men of -the day seem small,<br />Like pigmies standing in a blaze of light<br />Before -some grim majestic mountain-height.<br />War, with its bloody and impartial -hand,<br />Reveals the hidden weakness of a land,<br />Uncrowns the -heroes trusting Peace has made<br />Of men whose honour is a thing of -trade,<br />And turns the searchlight full on many a place<br />Where -proud conventions long have masked disgrace.<br />O lovely Peace! as -thou art fair be wise.<br />Demand great men, and great men shall arise<br />To -do thy bidding. Even as warriors come,<br />Swift at the call -of bugle and of drum,<br />So at the voice of Peace, imperative<br />As -bugle’s call, shall heroes spring to live<br />For country and -for thee. In every land,<br />In every age, men are what times -demand.<br />Demand the best, O Peace, and teach thy sons<br />They -need not rush in front of death-charged guns<br />With murder in their -hearts to prove their worth.<br />The grandest heroes who have graced -the earth<br />Were love-filled souls who did not seek the fray,<br />But -chose the safe, hard, high, and lonely way<br />Of selfless labour for -a suffering world.<br />Beneath our glorious flag again unfurled<br />In -victory such heroes wait to be<br />Called into bloodless action, Peace, -by thee.<br />Be thou insistent in thy stern demand,<br />And wise, -great men shall rise up in the land.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>PRESUMPTION</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Whenever I am prone to doubt or wonder -<br /> I -check myself, and say, “That mighty One<br />Who made the solar -system cannot blunder -<br /> And for the best all -things are being done.”<br />Who set the stars on their eternal -courses<br /> Has fashioned this strange earth by some -sure plan.<br />Bow low, bow low to those majestic forces,<br /> Nor -dare to doubt their wisdom, puny man.</p> -<p>You cannot put one little star in motion,<br /> You -cannot shape one single forest leaf,<br />Nor fling a mountain up, nor -sink an ocean,<br /> Presumptuous pigmy, large with -unbelief.<br />You cannot bring one dawn of regal splendour,<br /> Nor -bid the day to shadowy twilight fall,<br />Nor send the pale moon forth -with radiance tender -<br /> And dare you doubt the -One who has done all?</p> -<p>“So much is wrong, there is such pain - such sinning.”<br /> Yet -look again - behold how much is right!<br />And He who formed the world -from its beginning<br /> Knows how to guide it upward -to the light.<br />Your task, O man, is not to carp and cavil<br /> At -God’s achievements, but with purpose strong<br />To cling to good, -and turn away from evil.<br /> That is the way to help -the world along.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>HIGH NOON</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Time’s finger on the dial of my life<br />Points to high noon! -and yet the half-spent day<br />Leaves less than half remaining, for -the dark,<br />Bleak shadows of the grave engulf the end.<br />To those -who burn the candle to the stick,<br />The sputtering socket yields -but little light.<br />Long life is sadder than an early death.<br />We -cannot count on ravelled threads of age<br />Whereof to weave a fabric. -We must use<br />The warp and woof the ready present yields<br />And -toil while daylight lasts. When I bethink<br />How brief the past, -the future, still more brief<br />Calls on to action, action! -Not for me<br />Is time for retrospection or for dreams,<br />Not time -for self-laudation or remorse.<br />Have I done nobly? Then I -must not let<br />Dead yesterday unborn to-morrow shame.<br />Have I -done wrong? Well, let the bitter taste<br />Of fruit that turned -to ashes on my lip<br />Be my reminder in temptation’s hour,<br />And -keep me silent when I would condemn.<br />Sometimes it takes the acid -of a sin<br />To cleanse the clouded windows of our souls<br />So pity -may shine through them.</p> -<p> Looking back,<br />My faults -and errors seem like stepping-stones<br />That led the way to knowledge -of the truth<br />And made me value virtue; sorrows shine<br />In rainbow -colours o’er the gulf of years,<br />Where lie forgotten pleasures.</p> -<p> Looking forth,<br />Out to the -western sky still bright with noon,<br />I feel well spurred and booted -for the strife<br />That ends not till Nirvana is attained.</p> -<p>Battling with fate, with men, and with myself,<br />Up the steep -summit of my life’s forenoon,<br />Three things I learned, three -things of precious worth,<br />To guide and help me down the western -slope.<br />I have learned how to pray, and toil, and save:<br />To -pray for courage to receive what comes,<br />Knowing what comes to be -divinely sent;<br />To toil for universal good, since thus<br />And -only thus can good come unto me;<br />To save, by giving whatsoe’er -I have<br />To those who have not - this alone is gain.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THOUGHT-MAGNETS</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>With each strong thought, with every earnest longing<br /> For -aught thou deemest needful to thy soul,<br />Invisible vast forces are -set thronging<br /> Between thee and that goal</p> -<p>’Tis only when some hidden weakness alters<br /> And -changes thy desire, or makes it less,<br />That this mysterious army -ever falters<br /> Or stops short of success.</p> -<p>Thought is a magnet; and the longed-for pleasure,<br /> Or -boon, or aim, or object, is the steel;<br />And its attainment hangs -but on the measure<br /> Of what thy soul can feel.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>SMILES</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Smile a little, smile a little,<br /> As you go -along,<br />Not alone when life is pleasant,<br /> But -when things go wrong.<br />Care delights to see you frowning,<br /> Loves -to hear you sigh;<br />Turn a smiling face upon her -<br /> Quick -the dame will fly.</p> -<p>Smile a little, smile a little,<br /> All along -the road;<br />Every life must have its burden,<br /> Every -heart its load.<br />Why sit down in gloom and darkness<br /> With -your grief to sup?<br />As you drink Fate’s bitter tonic,<br /> Smile -across the cup.</p> -<p>Smile upon the troubled pilgrims<br /> Whom you -pass and meet;<br />Frowns are thorns, and smiles are blossoms<br /> Oft -for weary feet.<br />Do not make the way seem harder<br /> By -a sullen face;<br />Smile a little, smile a little,<br /> Brighten -up the place.</p> -<p>Smile upon your undone labour;<br /> Not for one -who grieves<br />O’er his task waits wealth or glory;<br /> He -who smiles achieves.<br />Though you meet with loss and sorrow<br /> In -the passing years,<br />Smile a little, smile a little,<br /> Even -through your tears.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE UNDISCOVERED COUNTRY</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Man has explored all countries and all lands,<br />And made his own -the secrets of each clime.<br />Now, ere the world has fully reached -its prime,<br />The oval earth lies compassed with steel bands,<br />The -seas are slaves to ships that touch all strands,<br /> And -even the haughty elements, sublime<br /> And bold, -yield him their secrets for all time,<br />And speed like lackeys forth -at his commands.</p> -<p>Still, though he search from shore to distant shore,<br /> And -no strange realms, no unlocated plains<br />Are left for his attainment -and control,<br />Yet is there one more kingdom to explore.<br /> Go, -know thyself, O man! there yet remains<br />The undiscovered country -of thy soul!</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE UNIVERSAL ROUTE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>As we journey along, with a laugh and a song,<br /> We -see, on youth’s flower-decked slope,<br />Like a beacon of light, -shining fair on the sight,<br /> The beautiful Station -of Hope.</p> -<p>But the wheels of old Time roll along as we climb,<br /> And -our youth speeds away on the years;<br />And with hearts that are numb -with life’s sorrows we come<br /> To the mist-covered -Station of Tears.</p> -<p>Still onward we pass, where the milestones, alas!<br /> Are -the tombs of our dead, to the West,<br />Where glitters and gleams, -in the dying sunbeams,<br /> The sweet, silent Station -of Rest.</p> -<p>All rest is but change, and no grave can estrange<br /> The -soul from its Parent above;<br />And, scorning the rod, it soars back -to its God,<br /> To the limitless City of Love.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>UNANSWERED PRAYERS</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Like some schoolmaster, kind in being stern,<br />Who hears the children -crying o’er their slates<br />And calling, “Help me, master!” -yet helps not,<br />Since in his silence and refusal lies<br />Their -self-development, so God abides<br />Unheeding many prayers. He -is not deaf<br />To any cry sent up from earnest hearts;<br />He hears -and strengthens when He must deny.<br />He sees us weeping over life’s -hard sums;<br />But should He give the key and dry our tears,<br />What -would it profit us when school were done<br />And not one lesson mastered?</p> -<p> What a world<br />Were this if -all our prayers were answered. Not<br />In famed Pandora’s -box were such vast ills<br />As lie in human hearts. Should our -desires,<br />Voiced one by one in prayer, ascend to God<br />And come -back as events shaped to our wish,<br />What chaos would result!</p> -<p> In my fierce youth<br />I sighed -out breath enough to move a fleet,<br />Voicing wild prayers to heaven -for fancied boons<br />Which were denied; and that denial bends<br />My -knee to prayers of gratitude each day<br />Of my maturer years. -Yet from those prayers<br />I rose alway regirded for the strife<br />And -conscious of new strength. Pray on, sad heart,<br />That which -thou pleadest for may not be given,<br />But in the lofty altitude where -souls<br />Who supplicate God’s grace are lifted, there<br />Thou -shalt find help to bear thy daily lot<br />Which is not elsewhere found.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THANKSGIVING</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>We walk on starry fields of white<br /> And do not -see the daisies,<br />For blessings common in our sight<br /> We -rarely offer praises.<br />We sigh for some supreme delight<br /> To -crown our lives with splendour,<br />And quite ignore our daily store<br /> Of -pleasures sweet and tender.</p> -<p>Our cares are bold and push their way<br /> Upon -our thought and feeling;<br />They hang about us all the day,<br /> Our -time from pleasure stealing.<br />So unobtrusive many a joy<br /> We -pass by and forget it,<br />But worry strives to own our lives,<br /> And -conquers if we let it.</p> -<p>There’s not a day in all the year<br /> But -holds some hidden pleasure,<br />And, looking back, joys oft appear<br /> To -brim the past’s wide measure.<br />But blessings are like friends, -I hold,<br /> Who love and labour near us.<br />We -ought to raise our notes of praise<br /> While living -hearts can hear us.</p> -<p>Full many a blessing wears the guise<br /> Of worry -or of trouble;<br />Far-seeing is the soul, and wise,<br /> Who -knows the mask is double.<br />But he who has the faith and strength<br /> To -thank his God for sorrow<br />Has found a joy without alloy<br /> To -gladden every morrow.</p> -<p>We ought to make the moments notes<br /> Of happy, -glad Thanksgiving;<br />The hours and days a silent phrase<br /> Of -music we are living.<br />And so the theme should swell and grow<br /> As -weeks and months pass o’er us,<br />And rise sublime at this good -time,<br /> A grand Thanksgiving chorus.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>CONTRASTS</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> -<p>I see the tall church steeples -<br /> They reach -so far, so far;<br />But the eyes of my heart see the world’s -great mart<br />Where the starving people are.</p> -<p> I hear the church bells ringing<br /> Their -chimes on the morning air;<br />But my soul’s sad ear is hurt -to hear<br /> The poor man’s cry of despair.</p> -<p>Thicker and thicker the churches,<br /> Nearer and -nearer the sky -<br />But alack for their creeds while the poor man’s -needs<br /> Grow deeper as years roll by!</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THY SHIP</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Hadst thou a ship, in whose vast hold lay stored<br />The priceless -riches of all climes and lands,<br />Say, wouldst thou let it float -upon the seas<br />Unpiloted, of fickle winds the sport,<br />And of -wild waves and hidden rocks the prey?</p> -<p>Thine is that ship; and in its depths concealed<br />Lies all the -wealth of this vast universe -<br />Yea, lies some part of God’s -omnipotence,<br />The legacy divine of every soul.<br />Thy will, O -man, thy will is that great ship,<br />And yet behold it drifting here -and there -<br />One moment lying motionless in port,<br />Then on high -seas by sudden impulse flung,<br />Then drying on the sands, and yet -again<br />Sent forth on idle quests to no-man’s land<br />To -carry nothing and to nothing bring;<br />Till, worn and fretted by the -aimless strife<br />And buffeted by vacillating winds,<br />It founders -on a rock, or springs a leak,<br />With all its unused treasures in -the hold.</p> -<p>Go save thy ship, thou sluggard; take the wheel<br />And steer to -knowledge, glory, and success.<br />Great mariners have made the pathway -plain<br />For thee to follow; hold thou to the course<br />Of Concentration -Channel, and all things<br />Shall come in answer to thy swerveless -wish<br />As comes the needle to the magnet’s call,<br />Or sunlight -to the prisoned blade of grass<br />That yearns all winter for the kiss -of spring.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>LIFE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>All in the dark we grope along,<br /> And if we -go amiss<br />We learn at least which path is wrong,<br /> And -there is gain in this.</p> -<p>We do not always win the race<br /> By only running -right;<br />We have to tread the mountain’s base<br /> Before -we reach its height.</p> -<p>The Christs alone no errors made;<br /> So often -had they trod<br />The paths that lead through light and shade,<br /> They -had become as God.</p> -<p>As Krishna, Buddha, Christ again,<br /> They passed -along the way,<br />And left those mighty truths which men<br /> But -dimly grasp to-day.</p> -<p>But he who loves himself the last<br /> And knows -the use of pain,<br />Though strewn with errors all his past,<br /> He -surely shall attain.</p> -<p>Some souls there are that needs must taste<br /> Of -wrong, ere choosing right;<br />We should not call those years a waste<br /> Which -led us to the light.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>A MARINE ETCHING</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>A yacht from its harbour ropes pulled free,<br />And leaped like -a steed o’er the race-track blue,<br />Then up behind her the -dust of the sea,<br />A gray fog, drifted, and hid her from view.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>“LOVE THYSELF LAST”</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Love thyself last. Look near, behold thy duty<br /> To -those who walk beside thee down life’s road.<br />Make glad their -days by little acts of beauty<br /> And help them bear -the burden of earth’s load.</p> -<p>Love thyself last. Look far and find the stranger<br /> Who -staggers ’neath his sin and his despair;<br />Go, lend a hand, -and lead him out of danger,<br /> To heights where -he may see the world is fair.</p> -<p>Love thyself last. The vastnesses above thee<br /> Are -filled with Spirit-Forces; strong and pure<br />And fervently these -faithful friends shall love thee<br /> Keep thou thy -watch o’er others and endure.</p> -<p>Love thyself last, and oh! such joy shall thrill thee<br /> As -never yet to selfish souls was given;<br />Whate’er thy lot, a -perfect peace will fill thee,<br /> And earth shall -seem the ante-room of Heaven.</p> -<p>Love thyself last, and thou shalt grow in spirit<br /> To -see, to hear, to know, and understand.<br />The message of the stars, -lo, thou shalt hear it,<br /> And all God’s joys -shall be at thy command.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>CHRISTMAS FANCIES</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow,<br />We -hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago,<br /> And -etched on vacant places<br /> Are half-forgotten faces<br />Of -friends we used to cherish, and loves we used to know -<br />When Christmas -bells are swinging above the fields of snow.</p> -<p>Uprising from the ocean of the present surging near,<br />We see, -with strange emotion, that is not free from fear,<br /> That -continent Elysian<br /> Long vanished from our vision,<br />Youth’s -lovely lost Atlantis, so mourned for and so dear,<br />Uprising from -the ocean of the present surging near.</p> -<p>When gloomy, gray Decembers are roused to Christmas mirth,<br />The -dullest life remembers there once was joy on earth,<br /> And -draws from youth’s recesses<br /> Some memory -it possesses,<br />And, gazing through the lens of time, exaggerates -its worth,<br />When gloomy, gray December is roused to Christmas mirth.</p> -<p>When hanging up the holly or mistletoe, I wis<br />Each heart recalls -some folly that lit the world with bliss.<br /> Not -all the seers and sages<br /> With wisdom of the ages<br />Can -give the mind such pleasure as memories of that kiss<br />When hanging -up the holly or mistletoe, I wis.</p> -<p>For life was made for loving, and love alone repays,<br />As passing -years are proving, for all of Time’s sad ways.<br /> There -lies a sting in pleasure,<br /> And fame gives shallow -measure,<br />And wealth is but a phantom that mocks the restless days,<br />For -life was made for loving, and only loving pays.</p> -<p>When Christmas bells are pelting the air with silver chimes,<br />And -silences are melting to soft, melodious rhymes,<br /> Let -Love, the world’s beginning,<br /> End fear and -hate and sinning;<br />Let Love, the God Eternal, be worshipped in all -climes<br />When Christmas bells are pelting the air with silver chimes.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE RIVER</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>I am a river flowing from God’s sea<br />Through devious ways. -He mapped my course for me;<br />I cannot change it; mine alone the -toil<br />To keep the waters free from grime and soil.<br />The winding -river ends where it began;<br />And when my life has compassed its brief -span<br />I must return to that mysterious source.<br />So let me gather -daily on my course<br />The perfume from the blossoms as I pass,<br />Balm -from the pines, and healing from the grass,<br />And carry down my current -as I go<br />Not common stones but precious gems to show;<br />And tears -(the holy water from sad eyes)<br />Back to God’s sea, from which -all rivers rise,<br />Let me convey, not blood from wounded hearts,<br />Nor -poison which the upas tree imparts.<br />When over flowery vales I leap -with joy,<br />Let me not devastate them, nor destroy,<br />But rather -leave them fairer to the sight;<br />Mine be the lot to comfort and -delight.<br />And if down awful chasms I needs must leap,<br />Let me -not murmur at my lot, but sweep<br />On bravely to the end without one -fear,<br />Knowing that He who planned my ways stands near.<br />Love -sent me forth, to Love I go again,<br />For Love is all, and over all. -Amen.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>SORRY</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>There is much that makes me sorry as I journey down life’s -way,<br />And I seem to see more pathos in poor human lives each day.<br />I’m -sorry for the strong, brave men who shield the weak from harm,<br />But -who, in their own troubled hours, find no protecting arm.</p> -<p>I’m sorry for the victors who have reached success, to stand<br />As -targets for the arrows shot by envious failure’s hand.<br />I’m -sorry for the generous hearts who freely shared their wine,<br />But -drink alone the gall of tears in fortune’s drear decline.</p> -<p>I’m sorry for the souls who build their own fame’s funeral -pyre,<br />Derided by the scornful throng like ice deriding fire.<br />I’m -sorry for the conquering ones who know not sin’s defeat,<br />But -daily tread down fierce desire ’neath scorched and bleeding feet.</p> -<p>I’m sorry for the anguished hearts that break with passion’s -strain,<br />But I’m sorrier for the poor starved souls that never -knew love’s pain,<br />Who hunger on through barren years not -tasting joys they crave,<br />For sadder far is such a lot than weeping -o’er a grave.</p> -<p>I’m sorry for the souls that come unwelcomed into birth,<br />I’m -sorry for the unloved old who cumber up the earth,<br />I’m sorry -for the suffering poor in life’s great maelstrom hurled -<br />In -truth, I’m sorry for them all who make this aching world.</p> -<p>But underneath whate’er seems sad and is not understood,<br />I -know there lies hid from our sight a mighty germ of good.<br />And this -belief stands firm by me, my sermon, motto, text -<br />The sorriest -things in this life will seem grandest in the next.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>AMBITION’S TRAIL</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>If all the end of this continuous striving<br /> Were -simply <i>to attain</i>,<br />How poor would seem the planning and contriving,<br />The -endless urging and the hurried driving,<br /> Of body, -heart, and brain!</p> -<p>But ever in the wake of true achieving<br /> There -shines this glowing trail -<br />Some other soul will be spurred on, -conceiving<br />New strength and hope, in its own power believing,<br /> Because -<i>thou</i> didst not fail.</p> -<p>Not thine alone the glory, nor the sorrow,<br /> If -thou dost miss the goal;<br />Undreamed of lives in many a far to-morrow<br />From -thee their weakness or their force shall borrow -<br /> On, -on, ambitious soul.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>UNCONTROLLED</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>The mighty forces of mysterious space<br /> Are -one by one subdued by lordly man.<br /> The awful lightning -that for eons ran<br /> Their devastating and untrammelled -race,<br />Now bear his messages from place to place<br /> Like -carrier doves. The winds lead on his van;<br /> The -lawless elements no longer can<br />Resist his strength, but yield with -sullen grace.</p> -<p>His bold feet scaling heights before untrod,<br /> Light, -darkness, air and water, heat and cold,<br /> He -bids go forth and bring him power and pelf.<br />And yet, though ruler, -king and demi-god,<br /> He walks with his fierce passions -uncontrolled,<br /> The conqueror -of all things - save himself.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>WILL</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>You will be what you will to be;<br /> Let failure -find its false content<br /> In that poor word “environment,”<br />But -spirit scorns it, and is free.</p> -<p>It masters time, it conquers space,<br /> It cowes -that boastful trickster Chance,<br /> And bids the -tyrant Circumstance<br />Uncrown and fill a servant’s place.</p> -<p>The human Will, that force unseen,<br /> The offspring -of a deathless Soul,<br /> Can hew the way to any goal,<br />Though -walls of granite intervene.</p> -<p>Be not impatient in delay,<br /> But wait as one -who understands;<br /> When spirit rises and commands,<br />The -gods are ready to obey.</p> -<p>The river seeking for the sea<br /> Confronts the -dam and precipice,<br /> Yet knows it cannot fail or -miss;<br /><i>You will be what you will to be</i>!</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>TO AN ASTROLOGER</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Nay, seer, I do not doubt thy mystic lore,<br />Nor question that -the tenor of my life,<br />Past, present, and the future, is revealed<br />There -in my horoscope. I do believe<br />That yon dead moon compels -the haughty seas<br />To ebb and flow, and that my natal star<br />Stands -like a stern-browed sentinel in space<br />And challenges events; nor -lets one grief,<br />Or joy, or failure, or success, pass on<br />To -mar or bless my earthly lot, until<br />It proves its Karmic right to -come to me.</p> -<p>All this I grant, but more than this I <i>know</i>!<br />Before the -solar systems were conceived,<br />When nothing was but the unnamable,<br />My -spirit lived, an atom of the Cause.<br />Through countless ages and -in many forms<br />It has existed, ere it entered in<br />This human -frame to serve its little day<br />Upon the earth. The deathless -Me of me.<br />The spark from that great all-creative fire,<br />Is -part of that eternal source called God,<br />And mightier than the universe.</p> -<p> Why, he<br />Who knows, and knowing, -never once forgets<br />The pedigree divine of his own soul,<br />Can -conquer, shape, and govern destiny,<br />And use vast space as ’twere -a board for chess<br />With stars for pawns; can change his horoscope<br />To -suit his will; turn failure to success,<br />And from preordained sorrows, -harvest joy.</p> -<p>There is no puny planet, sun, or moon,<br />Or zodiacal sign which -can control<br />The God in us! If we bring <i>that</i> to bear<br />Upon -events, we mould them to our wish;<br />’Tis when the infinite -’neath the finite gropes<br />That men are governed by their horoscopes.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE TENDRIL’S FATE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Under the snow, in the dark and the cold,<br /> A -pale little sprout was humming;<br />Sweetly it sang, ’neath the -frozen mould,<br /> Of the beautiful days that were -coming.</p> -<p>“How foolish your songs!” said a lump of clay;<br /> “What -is there, I ask, to prove them?<br />Just look at the walls between -you and the day,<br /> Now, have you the strength to -move them?”</p> -<p>But under the ice and under the snow<br /> The pale -little sprout kept singing,<br />“I cannot tell how, but I know, -I know,<br /> I know what the days are bringing.</p> -<p>“Birds, and blossoms, and buzzing bees,<br /> Blue, -blue skies above me,<br />Bloom on the meadows and buds on the trees<br /> And -the great glad sun to love me.”</p> -<p>A pebble spoke next: “You are quite absurd,”<br /> It -said, “with your song’s insistence;<br />For <i>I</i> never -saw a tree or a bird,<br /> So of course there are -none in existence.”</p> -<p>“But I know, I know,” the tendril cried,<br /> In -beautiful sweet unreason;<br />Till lo! from its prison, glorified,<br /> It -burst in the glad spring season.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE TIMES</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p> The times are not degenerate. Man’s -faith<br />Mounts higher than of old. No crumbling creed<br />Can -take from the immortal soul the need<br /> Of that -supreme Creator, God. The wraith<br />Of dead beliefs we cherished -in our youth<br />Fades but to let us welcome new-born Truth.</p> -<p> Man may not worship at the ancient shrine<br />Prone -on his face, in self-accusing scorn.<br />That night is past. -He hails a fairer morn,<br /> And knows himself a something -all divine;<br />Not humble worm whose heritage is sin,<br />But, born -of God, he feels the Christ withal.</p> -<p> Not loud his prayers, as in the olden time,<br />But -deep his reverence for that mighty force,<br />That occult working of -the great All-Source,<br /> Which makes the present -era so sublime.<br />Religion now means something high and broad.<br />And -man stood never half so near to God.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE QUESTION</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Beside us in our seeking after pleasures,<br /> Through -all our restless striving after fame,<br />Through all our search for -worldly gains and treasures,<br /> There walketh one -whom no man likes to name.<br />Silent he follows, veiled of form and -feature,<br /> Indifferent if we sorrow or rejoice,<br />Yet -that day comes when every living creature<br /> Must -look upon his face and hear his voice.</p> -<p>When that day comes to you, and Death, unmasking,<br /> Shall -bar your path, and say, “Behold the end,”<br />What are -the questions that he will be asking<br /> About your -past? Have you considered, friend?<br />I think he will not chide -you for your sinning,<br /> Nor for your creeds or -dogmas will he care;<br />He will but ask, “From your life’s -first beginning<br /> How many burdens have you helped -to bear?”</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>SORROW’S USES</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>The uses of sorrow I comprehend<br />Better and better at each year’s -end.</p> -<p>Deeper and deeper I seem to see<br />Why and wherefore it has to -be.</p> -<p>Only after the dark, wet days<br />Do we fully rejoice in the sun’s -bright rays.</p> -<p>Sweeter the crust tastes after the fast<br />Than the sated gourmand’s -finest repast.</p> -<p>The faintest cheer sounds never amiss<br />To the actor who once -has heard a hiss.</p> -<p>To one who the sadness of freedom knows,<br />Light seem the fetters -love may impose.</p> -<p>And he who has dwelt with his heart alone,<br />Hears all the music -in friendship’s tone.</p> -<p>So better and better I comprehend<br />How sorrow ever would be our -friend.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>IF</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>’Twixt what thou art, and what thou wouldst be, let<br />No -“If” arise on which to lay the blame.<br />Man makes a mountain -of that puny word,<br />But, like a blade of grass before the scythe,<br />It -falls and withers when a human will,<br />Stirred by creative force, -sweeps toward its aim.</p> -<p>Thou wilt be what thou couldst be. Circumstance<br />Is but -the toy of genius. When a soul<br />Burns with a god-like purpose -to achieve,<br />All obstacles between it and its goal<br />Must vanish -as the dew before the sun.</p> -<p>“If” is the motto of the dilettante<br />And idle dreamer; -’tis the poor excuse<br />Of mediocrity. The truly great<br />Know -not the word, or know it but to scorn,<br />Else had Joan of Arc a peasant -died,<br />Uncrowned by glory and by men unsung.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>WHICH ARE YOU?</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines1"><br /></div> -<p>There are two kinds of people on earth to-day;<br />Just two kinds -of people, no more, I say.</p> -<p>Not the sinner and saint, for it’s well understood<br />The -good are half bad, and the bad are half good.</p> -<p>Not the rich and the poor, for to rate a man’s wealth<br />You -must first know the state of his conscience and health.</p> -<p>Not the humble and proud, for, in life’s little span,<br />Who -puts on vain airs is not counted a man.</p> -<p>Not the happy and sad, for the swift flying years<br />Bring each -man his laughter, and each man his tears.</p> -<p>No; the two kinds of people on earth I mean<br />Are the people who -lift, and the people who lean.</p> -<p>Wherever you go, you will find the earth’s masses<br />Are -always divided in just these two classes.</p> -<p>And, oddly enough, you will find too, I ween,<br />There’s -only one lifter to twenty who lean.</p> -<p>In which class are you? Are you easing the load<br />Of overtaxed -lifters, who toil down the road?</p> -<p>Or are you a leaner, who lets others share<br />Your portion of labour -and worry and care?</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE CREED TO BE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Our thoughts are moulding unmade spheres,<br /> And, -like a blessing or a curse,<br />They thunder down the formless years,<br /> And -ring throughout the universe.</p> -<p>We build our futures by the shape<br /> Of our desires, -and not by acts.<br />There is no pathway of escape;<br /> No -priest-made creeds can alter facts.</p> -<p>Salvation is not begged or bought;<br /> Too long -this selfish hope sufficed;<br />Too long man reeked with lawless thought,<br /> And -leaned upon a tortured Christ.</p> -<p>Like shrivelled leaves, these worn-out creeds<br /> Are -dropping from Religion’s tree;<br />The world begins to know its -needs,<br /> And souls are crying to be free.</p> -<p>Free from the load of fear and grief,<br /> Man -fashioned in an ignorant age;<br />Free from the ache of unbelief<br /> He -fled to in rebellious rage.</p> -<p>No church can bind him to the things<br /> That -fed the first crude souls, evolved;<br />For, mounting up on daring -wings,<br /> He questions mysteries all unsolved.</p> -<p>Above the chant of priests, above<br /> The blatant -voice of braying doubt,<br />He hears the still, small voice of Love,<br /> Which -sends its simple message out.</p> -<p>And clearer, sweeter, day by day,<br /> Its mandate -echoes from the skies,<br />“Go roll the stone of self away,<br /> And -let the Christ within thee rise.”</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>INSPIRATION</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Not like a daring, bold, aggressive boy,<br /> Is -inspiration, eager to pursue,<br />But rather like a maiden, fond, yet -coy,<br /> Who gives herself to him who best doth woo.</p> -<p>Once she may smile, or thrice, thy soul to fire,<br /> In -passing by, but when she turns her face,<br />Thou must persist and -seek her with desire,<br /> If thou wouldst win the -favour of her grace.</p> -<p>And if, like some winged bird, she cleaves the air,<br /> And -leaves thee spent and stricken on the earth,<br />Still must thou strive -to follow even there,<br /> That she may know thy valour -and thy worth.</p> -<p>Then shall she come unveiling all her charms,<br /> Giving -thee joy for pain, and smiles for tears;<br />Then shalt thou clasp -her with possessing arms,<br /> The while she murmurs -music in thine ears.</p> -<p>But ere her kiss has faded from thy cheek,<br /> She -shall flee from thee over hill and glade,<br />So must thou seek and -ever seek and seek<br /> For each new conquest of this -phantom maid</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE WISH</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Should some great angel say to me to-morrow,<br /> “Thou -must re-tread thy pathway from the start,<br />But God will grant, in -pity, for thy sorrow,<br /> Some one dear wish, the -nearest to thy heart.”</p> -<p>This were my wish! - from my life’s dim beginning<br /><i> Let -be what has been</i>! wisdom planned the whole<br />My want, my woe, -my errors, and my sinning,<br /> All, all were needed -lessons for my soul.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THREE FRIENDS</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Of all the blessings which my life has known,<br />I value most, -and most praise God for three:<br />Want, Loneliness, and Pain, those -comrades true,</p> -<p>Who masqueraded in the garb of foes<br />For many a year, and filled -my heart with dread.<br />Yet fickle joys, like false, pretentious friends,<br />Have -proved less worthy than this trio. First,</p> -<p>Want taught me labour, led me up the steep<br />And toilsome paths -to hills of pure delight,<br />Trod only by the feet that know fatigue,<br />And -yet press on until the heights appear.</p> -<p>Then loneliness and hunger of the heart<br />Sent me upreaching to -the realms of space,<br />Till all the silences grew eloquent,<br />And -all their loving forces hailed me friend.</p> -<p>Last, pain taught prayer! placed in my hand the staff<br />Of close -communion with the over-soul,<br />That I might lean upon it to the -end,<br />And find myself made strong for any strife.</p> -<p>And then these three who had pursued my steps<br />Like stern, relentless -foes, year after year,<br />Unmasked, and turned their faces full on -me,<br />And lo! they were divinely beautiful,<br />For through them -shone the lustrous eyes of Love.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>YOU NEVER CAN TELL</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>You never can tell when you send a word,<br /> Like -an arrow shot from a bow<br />By an archer blind, be it cruel or kind,<br /> Just -where it may chance to go!<br />It may pierce the breast of your dearest -friend,<br /> Tipped with its poison or balm;<br />To -a stranger’s heart in life’s great mart,<br /> It -may carry its pain or its calm.</p> -<p>You never can tell when you do an act<br /> Just -what the result will be;<br />But with every deed you are sowing a seed,<br /> Though -the harvest you may not see.<br />Each kindly act is an acorn dropped<br /> In -God’s productive soil.<br />You may not know, but the tree shall -grow,<br /> With shelter for those who toil.</p> -<p>You never can tell what your thoughts will do,<br /> In -bringing you hate or love;<br />For thoughts are things, and their airy -wings<br /> Are swifter than carrier doves.<br />They -follow the law of the universe -<br /> Each thing must -create its kind;<br />And they speed o’er the track to bring you -back<br /><i> Whatever went out from your mind.</i></p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>HERE AND NOW</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Here, in the heart of the world,<br /> Here, in -the noise and the din,<br />Here, where our spirits were hurled<br /> To -battle with sorrow and sin,<br />This is the place and the spot<br /> For -knowledge of infinite things<br />This is the kingdom where Thought<br /> Can -conquer the prowess of kings</p> -<p>Wait for no heavenly life,<br /> Seek for no temple -alone;<br />Here, in the midst of the strife,<br /> Know -what the sages have known.<br />See what the Perfect Ones saw -<br /> God -in the depth of each soul,<br />God as the light and the law,<br /> God -as beginning and goal.</p> -<p>Earth is one chamber of Heaven,<br /> Death is no -grander than birth.<br />Joy in the life that was given,<br /> Strive -for perfection on earth;<br />Here, in the turmoil and roar,<br /> Show -what it is to be calm;<br />Show how the spirit can soar<br /> And -bring hack its healing and balm.</p> -<p>Stand not aloof nor apart,<br /> Plunge in the thick -of the fight;<br />There, in the street and the mart,<br /> That -is the place to do right.<br />Not in some cloister or cave,<br /> Not -in some kingdom above,<br />Here, on this side of the grave,<br /> Here, -should we labour and love.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>UNCONQUERED</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>However skilled and strong art thou, my foe,<br />However fierce -is thy relentless hate,<br />Though firm thy hand, and strong thy aim, -and straight<br />Thy poisoned arrow leaves the bended bow,</p> -<p>To pierce the target of my heart, ah! know<br /> I -am the master yet of my own fate.<br /> Thou canst -not rob me of my best estate,<br />Though fortune, fame, and friends, -yea, love shall go.</p> -<p>Not to the dust shall my true self be hurled,<br /> Nor -shall I meet thy worst assaults dismayed;<br /> When -all things in the balance are well weighed,<br />There is but one great -danger in the world -<br /><i> Thou canst not force -my soul to wish thee ill</i>,<br /> That is the only -evil that can kill.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>ALL THAT LOVE ASKS</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p> “All that I ask,” says Love, “is -just to stand<br /> And gaze, unchided, deep in thy -dear eyes;<br /> For in their depths lies largest Paradise.<br />Yet, -if perchance one pressure of thy hand<br /> Be granted -me, then joy I thought complete<br /> Were -still more sweet.</p> -<p> “All that I ask,” says Love, “all -that I ask,<br /> Is just thy hand-clasp. Could -I brush thy cheek<br /> As zephyrs brush a rose leaf, -words are weak<br />To tell the bliss in which my soul would bask.<br /> There -is no language but would desecrate<br /> A -joy so great.</p> -<p> “All that I ask, is just one tender touch<br /> Of -that soft cheek. Thy pulsing palm in mine,<br /> Thy -dark eyes lifted in a trust divine,<br />And those curled lips that -tempt me overmuch<br /> Turned where I may not seize -the supreme bliss<br /> Of one mad -kiss.</p> -<p> “All that I ask,” says Love, “of -life, of death,<br /> Or of high heaven itself, is -just to stand,<br /> Glance melting into glance, hand -twined in hand,<br />The while I drink the nectar of thy breath<br /> In -one sweet kiss, but one, of all thy store,<br /> I -ask no more.”</p> -<p> “All that I ask” - nay, self-deceiving -Love,<br /> Reverse thy phrase, so thus the words may -fall,<br /> In place of “all I ask,” say, -“I ask all,”<br />All that pertains to earth or soars above,<br /> All -that thou wert, art, will be, body, soul,<br /> Love -asks the whole,</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>“DOES IT PAY?”</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>If one poor burdened toiler o’er life’s road,<br /> Who -meets us by the way,<br />Goes on less conscious of his galling load,<br /> Then -life, indeed, does pay.</p> -<p>If we can show one troubled heart the gain<br /> That -lies alway in loss,<br />Why, then, we too are paid for all the pain<br /> Of -bearing life’s hard cross.</p> -<p>If some despondent soul to hope is stirred,<br /> Some -sad lip made to smile,<br />By any act of ours, or any word,<br /> Then, -life has been worth while.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>SESTINA</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>I wandered o’er the vast green plains of youth,<br />And searched -for Pleasure. On a distant height<br />Fame’s silhouette -stood sharp against the skies.<br />Beyond vast crowds that thronged -a broad highway<br />I caught the glimmer of a golden goal,<br />While -from a blooming bower smiled siren Love.</p> -<p>Straight gazing in her eyes, I laughed at Love<br />With all the -haughty insolence of youth,<br />As past her bower I strode to seek -my goal.<br />“Now will I climb to glory’s dizzy height,”<br />I -said, “for there above the common way<br />Doth pleasure dwell -companioned by the skies.”</p> -<p>But when I reached that summit near the skies,<br />So far from man -I seemed, so far from Love -<br />“Not here,” I cried, “doth -Pleasure find her way.”<br />Seen from the distant borderland -of youth,<br />Fame smiles upon us from her sun-kissed height,<br />But -frowns in shadows when we reach the goal.</p> -<p>Then were mine eyes fixed on that glittering goal,<br />Dear to all -sense - sunk souls beneath the skies.<br />Gold tempts the artist from -the lofty height,<br />Gold lures the maiden from the arms of Love,<br />Gold -buys the fresh, ingenuous heart of youth,<br />“And gold,” -I said, “will show me Pleasure’s way.”</p> -<p>But ah! the soil and discord of that way,<br />Where savage hordes -rushed headlong to the goal,<br />Dead to the best impulses of their -youth,<br />Blind to the azure beauty of the skies;<br />Dulled to the -voice of conscience and of love,<br />They wandered far from Truth’s -eternal height.</p> -<p>Then Truth spoke to me from that noble height,<br />Saying, “Thou -didst pass Pleasure on the way,<br />She with the yearning eyes so full -of Love,<br />Whom thou disdained to seek for glory’s goal.<br />Two -blending paths beneath God’s arching skies<br />Lead straight -to Pleasure. Ah! blind heart of youth,<br />Not up fame’s -height, not toward the base god’s goal,<br />Doth Pleasure make -her way, but ’neath calm skies<br />Where Duty walks with Love -in endless youth.”</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE OPTIMIST</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>The fields were bleak and sodden.<br /> Not a wing<br />Or -note enlivened the depressing wood;<br />A soiled and sullen, stubborn -snowdrift stood<br />Beside the roadway. Winds came muttering<br />Of -storms to be, and brought the chilly sting<br /> Of -icebergs in their breath. Stalled cattle mooed<br /> Forth -plaintive pleadings for the earth’s green food.<br />No gleam, -no hint of hope in anything.</p> -<p>The sky was blank and ashen, like the face<br /> Of -some poor wretch who drains life’s cup too fast<br />Yet, swaying -to and fro, as if to fling<br />About chilled Nature its lithe arms -of grace,<br /> Smiling with promise in the wintry -blast,<br />The optimistic Willow spoke of spring.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE PESSIMIST</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>The pessimistic locust, last to leaf,<br />Though all the world is -glad, still talks of grief.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>AN INSPIRATION</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>However the battle is ended,<br /> Though proudly -the victor comes<br />With fluttering flags and prancing nags<br /> And -echoing roll of drums,<br />Still truth proclaims this motto<br /> In -letters of living light, -<br />No question is ever settled<br /> Until -it is settled right.</p> -<p>Though the heel of the strong oppressor<br /> May -grind the weak in the dust;<br />And the voices of fame with one acclaim<br /> May -call him great and just,<br />Let those who applaud take warning.<br /> And -keep this motto in sight, -<br />No question is ever settled<br /> Until -it is settled right.</p> -<p>Let those who have failed take courage;<br /> Though -the enemy seems to have won,<br />Though his ranks are strong, if he -be in the wrong<br /> The battle is not yet done;<br />For, -sure as the morning follows<br /> The darkest hour -of the night,<br />No question is ever settled<br /> Until -it is settled right.</p> -<p>O man bowed down with labour!<br /> O woman young, -yet old!<br />O heart oppressed in the toiler’s breast<br /> And -crushed by the power of gold<br />Keep on with your weary battle<br /> Against -triumphant might;<br />No question is ever settled<br /> Until -it is settled right.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>LIFE’S HARMONIES</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Let no man pray that he know not sorrow,<br /> Let -no soul ask to be free from pain,<br />For the gall of to-day is the -sweet of to-morrow,<br /> And the moment’s loss -is the lifetime’s gain.</p> -<p>Through want of a thing does its worth redouble,<br /> Through -hunger’s pangs does the feast content,<br />And only the heart -that has harboured trouble<br /> Can fully rejoice -when joy is sent.</p> -<p>Let no man shrink from the bitter tonics<br /> Of -grief, and yearning, and need, and strife,<br />For the rarest chords -in the soul’s harmonics<br /> Are found in the -minor strains of life.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>PREPARATION</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>We must not force events, but rather make<br />The heart soil ready -for their coming, as<br />The earth spreads carpets for the feet of -Spring,<br />Or, with the strengthening tonic of the frost,<br />Prepares -for winter. Should a July noon<br />Burst suddenly upon a frozen -world<br />Small joy would follow, even though that world<br />Were -longing for the Summer. Should the sting<br />Of sharp December -pierce the heart of June,<br />What death and devastation would ensue!<br />All -things are planned. The most majestic sphere<br />That whirls -through space is governed and controlled<br />By supreme law, as is -the blade of grass<br />Which through the bursting bosom of the earth<br />Creeps -up to kiss the light. Poor, puny man<br />Alone doth strive and -battle with the Force<br />Which rules all lives and worlds, and he -alone<br />Demands effect before producing cause.<br />How vain the -hope! We cannot harvest joy<br />Until we sow the seed, and God -alone<br />Knows when that seed has ripened. Oft we stand<br />And -watch the ground with anxious, brooding eyes,<br />Complaining of the -slow, unfruitful yield,<br />Not knowing that the shadow of ourselves<br />Keeps -off the sunlight and delays result.<br />Sometimes our fierce impatience -of desire<br />Doth like a sultry May force tender shoots<br />Of half-formed -pleasures and unshaped events<br />To ripen prematurely, and we reap<br />But -disappointment; or we rot the germs<br />With briny tears ere they have -time to grow.<br />While stars are born and mighty planets die<br />And -hissing comets scorch the brow of space,<br />The Universe keeps its -eternal calm.<br />Through patient preparation, year on year,<br />The -earth endures the travail of the Spring<br />And Winter’s desolation. -So our souls<br />In grand submission to a higher law<br />Should move -serene through all the ills of life<br />Believing them masked joys.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>GETHSEMANE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>In golden youth when seems the earth<br />A Summer-land of singing -mirth,<br />When souls are glad and hearts are light,<br />And not a -shadow lurks in sight,<br />We do not know it, but there lieu<br />Somewhere -veiled under evening skies<br />A garden which we all must see -<br />The -garden of Gethsemane.</p> -<p>With joyous steps we go our ways,<br />Love lends a halo to our days;<br />Light -sorrows sail like clouds afar,<br />We laugh, and say how strong we -are.<br />We hurry on; and hurrying, go<br />Close to the borderland -of woe<br />That waits for you, and waits for me -<br />Forever waits -Gethsemane.</p> -<p>Down shadowy lanes, across strange streams,<br />Bridged over by -our broken dreams;<br />Behind the misty caps of years,<br />Beyond -the great salt fount of tears,<br />The garden lies. Strive as -you may,<br />You cannot miss it in your way;<br />All paths that have -been, or shall be,<br />Pass somewhere through Gethsemane.</p> -<p>All those who journey, soon or late,<br />Must pass within the garden’s -gate;<br />Must kneel alone in darkness there,<br />And battle with -some fierce despair.<br />God pity those who cannot say,<br />“Not -mine but Thine”; who only pray<br />“Let this cup pass,” -and cannot see<br />The <i>purpose</i> in Gethsemane.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>GOD’S MEASURE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>God measures souls by their capacity<br />For entertaining his best -Angel, Love.<br />Who loveth most is nearest kin to God,<br />Who is -all Love, or Nothing.</p> -<p> He who sits<br />And looks out -on the palpitating world,<br />And feels his heart swell in him large -enough<br />To hold all men within it, he is near<br />His great Creator’s -standard, though he dwells<br />Outside the pale of churches, and knows -not<br />A feast-day from a fast-day, or a line<br />Of Scripture even. -What God wants of us<br />Is that outreaching bigness that ignores<br />All -littleness of aims, or loves, or creeds,<br />And clasps all Earth and -Heaven in its embrace.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>NOBLESSE OBLIGE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>I hold it the duty of one who is gifted<br /> And -specially dowered in all men’s sight,<br />To know no rest till -his life is lifted<br /> Fully up to his great gifts’ -height.</p> -<p>He must mould the man into rare completeness,<br /> For -gems are set only in gold refined.<br />He must fashion his thoughts -into perfect sweetness.<br /> And cast out folly and -pride from his mind.</p> -<p>For he who drinks from a god’s gold fountain<br /> Of -art or music or rhythmic song<br />Must sift from his soul the chaff -of malice,<br /> And weed from his heart the roots -of wrong.</p> -<p>Great gifts should be worn, like a crown befitting,<br /> And -not like gems in a beggar’s hands!<br />And the toil must be constant -and unremitting<br /> Which lifts up the king to the -crown’s demands.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THROUGH TEARS</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>An artist toiled over his pictures;<br /> He laboured -by night and by day,<br />He struggled for glory and honour<br /> But -the world, it had nothing to say.<br />His walls were ablaze with the -splendours<br /> We see in the beautiful skies;<br />But -the world beheld only the colours<br /> That were made -out of chemical dyes.</p> -<p>Time sped. And he lived, loved, and suffered;<br /> He -passed through the valley of grief.<br />Again he toiled over his canvas,<br /> Since -in labour alone was relief.<br />It showed not the splendour of colours<br /> Of -those of his earlier years;<br />But the world? the world bowed down -before it<br /> Because it was painted with tears.</p> -<p>A poet was gifted with genius,<br /> And he sang, -and he sang all the days.<br />He wrote for the praise of the people,<br /> But -the people accorded no praise.<br />Oh! his songs were as blithe as -the morning,<br /> As sweet as the music of birds;<br />But -the world had no homage to offer,<br /> Because they -were nothing but words.</p> -<p>Time sped. And the poet through sorrow<br /> Became -like his suffering kind.<br />Again he toiled over his poems<br /> To -lighten the grief of his mind.<br />They were not so flowing and rhythmic<br /> As -those of his earlier years;<br />But the world? lo! it offered its homage,<br /> Because -they were written in tears.</p> -<p>So ever the price must be given<br /> By those seeking -glory in art;<br />So ever the world is repaying<br /> The -grief-stricken, suffering heart.<br />The happy must ever be humble;<br /> Ambition -must wait for the years<br />Ere hoping to win the approval<br /> Of -a world that looks on through its tears.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>WHAT WE NEED</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>What does our country need? No armies standing<br /> With -sabres gleaming ready for the fight;<br />Not increased navies, skilful -and commanding,<br /> To bound the waters with an iron -might;<br />Not haughty men with glutted purses trying<br /> To -purchase souls, and keep the power of place;<br />Not jewelled dolls -with one another vying<br /> For palms of beauty, elegance, -and grace.</p> -<p>But we want women, strong of soul, yet lowly,<br /> With -that rare meekness, born of gentleness;<br />Women whose lives are pure -and clean and holy,<br /> The women whom all little -children bless;<br />Brave, earnest women, helpful to each other,<br /> With -finest scorn for all things low and mean;<br />Women who hold the names -of wife and mother<br /> Far nobler than the title -of a queen.</p> -<p>Oh! these are they who mould the men of story,<br /> These -mothers, ofttimes shorn of grace and youth,<br />Who, worn and weary, -ask no greater glory<br /> Than making some young soul -the home of truth;<br />Who sow in hearts all fallow for the sowing<br /> The -seeds of virtue and of scorn for sin,<br />And, patient, watch the beauteous -harvest growing<br /> And weed out tares which crafty -hands cast in;</p> -<p>Women who do not hold the gift of beauty<br /> As -some rare treasure to be bought and sold.<br />But guard it as a precious -aid to duty -<br /> The outer framing of the inner -gold;<br />Women who, low above their cradles bending,<br /> Let -flattery’s voice go by, and give no heed,<br />While their pure -prayers like incense are ascending<br /><i> These</i> -are our country’s pride, our country’s need,</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>PLEA TO SCIENCE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>O Science, reaching backward through the distance,<br /> Most -earnest child of God,<br />Exposing all the secrets of existence,<br /> With -thy divining rod,<br />I bid thee speed up to the heights supernal,<br /> Clear -thinker, ne’er sufficed;<br />Go seek and bind the laws and truths -eternal,<br /> But leave me Christ.</p> -<p>Upon the vanity of pious sages<br /> Let in the -light of day;<br />Break down the superstitions of all ages -<br /> Thrust -bigotry away;<br />Stride on, and bid all stubborn foes defiance,<br /> Let -Truth and Reason reign:<br />But I beseech thee, O Immortal Science,<br /> Let -Christ remain.</p> -<p>What canst thou give to help me bear my crosses,<br /> In -place of Him, my Lord?<br />And what to recompense for all my losses,<br /> And -bring me sweet reward?<br /><i>Thou</i> couldst not with thy clear, -cold eyes of reason,<br /> Thou couldst not comfort -me<br />Like One who passed through that tear-blotted season<br /> In -sad Gethsemane!</p> -<p>Through all the weary, wearing hour of sorrow,<br /> What -word that thou hast said<br />Would make me strong to wait for some -to-morrow<br /> When I should find my dead?<br />When -I am weak, and desolate, and lonely -<br /> And prone -to follow wrong?<br />Not thou, O Science - Christ, my Saviour, only<br /> Can -make me strong.</p> -<p>Thou art so cold, so lofty, and so distant,<br /> Though -great my need might be,<br />No prayer, however constant and persistent,<br /> Could -bring thee down to me.<br />Christ stands so near, to help me through -each hour,<br /> To guide me day by day<br />O Science, -sweeping all before thy power -<br /> Leave Christ, -I pray!</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>RESPITE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>The mighty conflict, which we call existence,<br /> Doth -wear upon the body and the soul,<br />Our vital forces wasted in resistance,<br /> So -much there is to conquer and control.</p> -<p>The rock which meets the billows with defiance,<br /> Undaunted -and unshaken day by day,<br />In spite of its unyielding self-reliance,<br /> Is -by the warfare surely worn away.</p> -<p>And there are depths and heights of strong emotions<br /> That -surge at times within the human breast,<br />More fierce than all the -tides of all the oceans<br /> Which sweep on ever in -divine unrest.</p> -<p>I sometimes think the rock worn with adventures,<br /> And -sad with thoughts of conflicts yet to be,<br />Must envy the frail reed -which no one censures,<br /> When, overcome, ’tis -swallowed by the sea.</p> -<p>This life is all resistance and repression.<br /> Dear -God, if in that other world unseen,<br />Not rest we find, but new life -and progression,<br /> Grant us a respite in the grave -between.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>SONG</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>O praise me not with your lips, dear one!<br /> Though -your tender words I prize.<br />But dearer by far is the soulful gaze<br /> Of -your eyes, your beautiful eyes<br /> Your -tender, loving eyes.</p> -<p>O chide me not with your lips, dear one!<br /> Though -I cause your bosom sighs.<br />You can make repentance deeper far<br /> By -your sad, reproving eyes,<br /> Your -sorrowful, troubled eyes.</p> -<p>Words, at the best, are but hollow sounds;<br /> Above, -in the beaming skies,<br />The constant stars say never a word,<br /> But -only smile with their eyes -<br /> Smile -on with their lustrous eyes.</p> -<p>Then breathe no vow with your lips, dear one;<br /> On -the winged wind speech flies.<br />But I read the truth of your noble -heart<br /> In your soulful, speaking eyes -<br /> In -your deep and beautiful eyes.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>MY SHIPS</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>If all the ships I have at sea<br />Should come a-sailing home to -me,<br />Ah, well! the harbour could not hold<br />So many sails as -there would be<br />If all my ships came in from sea.</p> -<p>If half my ships came home from sea,<br />And brought their precious -freight to me,<br />Ah, well! I should have wealth as great<br />As -any king who sits in state -<br />So rich the treasures that would be<br />In -half my ships now out at sea.</p> -<p>If just one ship I have at sea<br />Should come a-sailing home to -me,<br />Ah, well! the storm-clouds then might frown<br />For if the -others all went down,<br />Still rich and proud and glad I’d be<br />If -that one ship came back to me.</p> -<p>If that one ship went down at sea,<br />And all the others came to -me,<br />Weighed down with gems and wealth untold,<br />With glory, -honours, riches, gold,<br />The poorest soul on earth I’d be<br />If -that one ship came not to me.</p> -<p>O skies, be calm! O winds, blow free -<br />Blow all my ships -safe home to me!<br />But if thou sendest some a-wrack,<br />To never -more come sailing back,<br />Send any - all that skim the sea,<br />But -bring my love-ship home to me.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>HER LOVE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>The sands upon the ocean side<br />That change about with every tide,<br />And -never true to one abide,<br /> A woman’s love -I liken to.</p> -<p>The summer zephyrs, light and vain,<br />That sing the same alluring -strain<br />To every grass blade on the plain -<br /> A -woman’s love is nothing more.</p> -<p>The sunshine of an April day<br />That comes to warm you with its -ray,<br />But while you smile has flown away -<br /> A -woman’s love is like to this.</p> -<p>God made poor woman with no heart,<br />But gave her skill, and tact, -and art,<br />And so she lives, and plays her part.<br /> We -must not blame, but pity her.</p> -<p>She leans to man - but just to hear<br />The praise he whispers in -her ear;<br />Herself, not him, she holdeth dear -<br /> O -fool! to be deceived by her.</p> -<p>To sate her selfish thirst she quaffs<br />The love of strong hearts -in sweet draughts,<br />Then throws them lightly by and laughs,<br /> Too -weak to understand their pain.</p> -<p>As changeful as the winds that blow<br />From every region to and -fro,<br />Devoid of heart, she cannot know<br /> The -suffering of a human heart.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>IF</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Dear love, if you and I could sail away,<br /> With -snowy pennons to the winds unfurled,<br />Across the waters of some -unknown bay,<br /> And find some island far from all -the world;</p> -<p>If we could dwell there, evermore alone,<br /> While -unrecorded years slip by apace,<br />Forgetting and forgotten and unknown<br /> By -aught save native song-birds of the place;</p> -<p>If Winter never visited that land,<br /> And Summer’s -lap spilled o’er with fruits and flowers,<br />And tropic trees -cast shade on every hand,<br /> And twinèd boughs -formed sleep-inviting bowers;</p> -<p>If from the fashions of the world set free,<br /> And -hid away from all its jealous strife,<br />I lived alone for you, and -you for me -<br /> Ah! then, dear love, how sweet were -wedded life.</p> -<p>But since we dwell here in the crowded way,<br /> Where -hurrying throngs rush by to seek for gold,<br />And all is commonplace -and work-a-day<br /> As soon as love’s young -honeymoon grows old;</p> -<p>Since fashion rules and nature yields to art,<br /> And -life is hurt by daily jar and fret,<br />’Tis best to shut such -dreams down in the heart<br /> And go our ways alone, -love, and forget.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>LOVE’S BURIAL</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Let us clear a little space,<br />And make Love a burial-place.</p> -<p>He is dead, dear, as you see,<br />And he wearies you and me.</p> -<p>Growing heavier, day by day,<br />Let us bury him, I say.</p> -<p>Wings of dead white butterflies,<br />These shall shroud him, as -he lies</p> -<p>In his casket rich and rare,<br />Made of finest maiden-hair.</p> -<p>With the pollen of the rose<br />Let us his white eyelids close.</p> -<p>Put the rose thorn in his hand,<br />Shorn of leaves - you understand.</p> -<p>Let some holy water fall<br />On his dead face, tears of gall -</p> -<p>As we kneel to him and say,<br />“Dreams to dreams,” -and turn away.</p> -<p>Those gravediggers, Doubt, Distrust,<br />They will lower him to -the dust.</p> -<p>Let us part here with a kiss -<br />You go that way, I go this.</p> -<p>Since we buried Love to-day<br />We will walk a separate way.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> -<h2>“LOVE IS ENOUGH”</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Love is enough. Let us not ask for gold.<br /> Wealth -breeds false aims, and pride, and selfishness;<br />In those serene, -Arcadian days of old<br /> Men gave no thought to princely -homes and dress.<br />The gods who dwelt on fair Olympia’s height<br />Lived -only for dear love and love’s delight.<br /> Love -is enough.</p> -<p>Love is enough. Why should we care for fame?<br /> Ambition -is a most unpleasant guest:<br />It lures us with the glory of a name<br /> Far -from the happy haunts of peace and rest.<br />Let us stay here in this -secluded place<br />Made beautiful by love’s endearing grace!<br /> Love -is enough.</p> -<p>Love is enough. Why should we strive for power?<br /> It -brings men only envy and distrust.<br />The poor world’s homage -pleases but an hour,<br /> And earthly honours vanish -in the dust.<br />The grandest lives are ofttimes desolate;<br />Let -me be loved, and let who will be great.<br /> Love -is enough.</p> -<p>Love is enough. Why should we ask for more?<br /> What -greater gift have gods vouchsafed to men?<br />What better boon of all -their precious store<br /> Than our fond hearts that -love and love again?<br />Old love may die; new love is just as sweet;<br />And -life is fair and all the world complete:<br /> Love -is enough!</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>LIFE IS A PRIVILEGE</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Life is a privilege. Its youthful days<br />Shine with the -radiance of continuous Mays.<br />To live, to breathe, to wonder and -desire,<br />To feed with dreams the heart’s perpetual fire,<br />To -thrill with virtuous passions, and to glow<br />With great ambitions -- in one hour to know<br />The depths and heights of feeling - God! -in truth,<br />How beautiful, how beautiful is youth!</p> -<p>Life is a privilege. Like some rare rose<br />The mysteries -of the human mind unclose.<br />What marvels lie in earth, and air, -and sea!<br />What stores of knowledge wait our opening key!<br />What -sunny roads of happiness lead out<br />Beyond the realms of indolence -and doubt!<br />And what large pleasures smile upon and bless<br />The -busy avenues of usefulness!</p> -<p>Life is a privilege. Though noontide fades<br />And shadows -fall along the winding glades,<br />Though joy-blooms wither in the -autumn air,<br />Yet the sweet scent of sympathy is there.<br />Pale -sorrow leads us closer to our kind,<br />And in the serious hours of -life we find<br />Depths in the souls of men which lend new worth<br />And -majesty to this brief span of earth.</p> -<p>Life is a privilege. If some sad fate<br />Sends us alone to -seek the exit gate,<br />If men forsake us and as shadows fall,<br />Still -does the supreme privilege of all<br />Come in that reaching upward -of the soul<br />To find the welcoming Presence at the goal,<br />And -in the Knowledge that our feet have trod<br />Paths that led from, and -must wind back, to God.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>INSIGHT</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>Sirs, when you pity us, I say<br />You waste your pity. Let -it stay,<br />Well corked and stored upon your shelves,<br />Until you -need it for yourselves.</p> -<p>We do appreciate God’s thought<br />In forming you, before -He brought<br />Us into life. His art was crude,<br />But oh! -so virile in its rude,</p> -<p>Large, elemental strength; and then<br />He learned His trade in -making men,<br />Learned how to mix and mould the clay<br />And fashion -in a finer way.</p> -<p>How fine that skilful way can be<br />You need but lift your eyes -to see;<br />And we are glad God placed you there<br />To lift your -eyes and find us fair.</p> -<p>Apprentice labour though you were,<br />He made you great enough -to stir<br />The best and deepest depths of us,<br />And we are glad -He made you thus.</p> -<p>Aye! we are glad of many things;<br />God strung our hearts with -such fine strings<br />The least breath moves them, and we hear<br />Music -where silence greets your ear.</p> -<p>We suffer so? But women’s souls,<br />Like violet-powder -dropped on coals,<br />Give forth their best in anguish. Oh<br />The -subtle secrets that we know</p> -<p>Of joy in sorrow, strange delights<br />Of ecstasy in pain-filled -nights,<br />And mysteries of gain in loss<br />Known but to Christ -upon the cross!</p> -<p>Our tears are pitiful to you?<br />Look how the heaven-reflecting -dew<br />Dissolves its life in tears. The sand<br />Meanwhile -lies hard upon the strand.</p> -<p>How could your pity find a place<br />For us, the mothers of the -race?<br />Men may be fathers unaware,<br />So poor the title is you -wear.</p> -<p>But mothers - who that crown adorns<br />Knows all its mingled blooms -and thorns,<br />And she whose feet that pain hath trod<br />Hath walked -upon the heights with God.</p> -<p>No, offer us not pity’s cup.<br />There is no looking down -or up<br />Between us; eye looks straight in eye:<br />Born equals, -so we live and die.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>A WOMAN’S ANSWER</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>You call me an angel of love and of light,<br /> A -being of goodness and heavenly fire,<br />Sent out from God’s -kingdom to guide you aright,<br /> In paths where your -spirit may mount and aspire,<br />You say that I glow like a star on -its course,<br />Like a ray from the altar, a spark from the source.</p> -<p>Now list to my answer - let all the world hear it,<br /> I -speak unafraid what I know to be true -<br />A pure, faithful love is -the creative spirit<br /> Which make women angels! -I live but in you.<br />We are bound soul to soul by life’s holiest -laws;<br />If I am an angel - why, you are the cause.</p> -<p>As my ship skims the sea, I look up from the deck.<br /> Fair, -firm at the wheel shines Love’s beautiful form.<br />And shall -I curse the bark that last night went to wreck<br /> By -the pilot abandoned to darkness and storm?<br />My craft is no stauncher, -she too had been lost<br />Had the wheelman deserted, or slept at his -post.</p> -<p>I laid down the wealth of my soul at your feet<br /> (Some -woman does this for some man every day).<br />No desperate creature -who walks in the street<br /> Has a wickeder heart -than I might have, I say,<br />Had you wantonly misused the treasures -you won -<br />As so many men with heart-riches have done.</p> -<p>This fire from God’s altar, this holy love-flame,<br /> That -burns like sweet incense forever for you,<br />Might now be a wild conflagration -of shame,<br /> Had you tortured my heart, or been -base or untrue.<br />For angels and devils are cast in one mould,<br />Till -love guides them upward or downward, I hold.</p> -<p>I tell you the women who make fervent wives<br /> And -sweet tender mothers, had Fate been less fair,<br />Are the women who -might have abandoned their lives<br /> To the madness -that springs from and ends in despair.<br />As the fire on the hearth -which sheds brightness around,<br />Neglected, may level the walls to -the ground.</p> -<p>The world makes grave errors in judging these things.<br /> Great -good and great evil are born in one breast:<br />Love horns us and hoofs -us, or gives us our wings,<br /> And the best could -be worst, as the worst could be best.<br />You must thank your own worth -for what I grew to be,<br />For the demon lurked under the angel in -me.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<h2>THE WORLD’S NEED</h2> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines2"><br /><br /></div> -<p>So many gods, so many creeds,<br /> So many paths -that wind and wind,<br /> While just the art of being -kind,<br />Is all the sad world needs.</p> -<div class="GutenbergBlankLines3"><br /><br /><br /></div> -<p>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, POEMS OF POWER ***</p> -<pre> - -******This file should be named ppow10h.htm or ppow10h.zip****** -Corrected EDITIONS of our EBooks get a new NUMBER, ppow11h.htm -VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, ppow10ah.htm - -Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US -unless a copyright notice is included. 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