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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/3228-0.txt b/3228-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d9d648d --- /dev/null +++ b/3228-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4410 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, Poems of Progress and New Thought Pastels, by +Ella Wheeler Wilcox + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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 + + + + + +Title: Poems of Progress and New Thought Pastels + + +Author: Ella Wheeler Wilcox + + + +Release Date: July 27, 2014 [eBook #3228] +[This file was first posted on February 2, 2001] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS OF PROGRESS AND NEW THOUGHT +PASTELS*** + + +Transcribed from the 1913 Gay and Hancock edition by David Price, email +ccx074@pglaf.org + + + + + + POEMS OF PROGRESS + AND + NEW THOUGHT PASTELS + + + BY + + ELLA WHEELER WILCOX + + [Picture: Decorative graphic] + + GAY AND HANCOCK, LTD. + + 12 AND 13 HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN + + LONDON + + 1913 + + [_All rights reserved_] + + * * * * * + +ANY edition of my poems published in England by any firm except Messrs. +Gay and Hancock is pirated and not authentic. + + ELLA WHEELER WILCOX. + +_April_ 12, 1910. + + + + +PREFACE +LOVE’S LANGUAGE + + + When silence flees before the voice of Love, + Of what expression does that god approve? + Is dulcet song or flowing verse his choice, + Or stately prose, made regal by his voice? + Speaks Love in couplets, or in epics grand? + And is Love humble, or does he command? + + There is no language that Love does not speak: + To-day commanding and to-morrow meek, + One hour laconic and the next verbose, + With hope triumphant and with doubt morose, + His varying moods all forms of speech employ. + To give expression to his painful joy, + + To voice the phases of his joyful pain, + He rings the changes on the poet’s strain. + Yet not in epic, epigram or verse + Can Love the passion of his heart rehearse. + All speech, all language, is inadequate, + There are no words with Love commensurate. + + + + +CONTENTS + + PAGE +Preface v +The Land Between 1 +Love’s Mirage 3 +The Need of the World 4 +The Gulf Stream 7 +Remembered 8 +Helen of Troy 9 +Lais when Young 11 +Lais when Old 12 +Existence 13 +Holiday Songs 15 +Astrolabius 18 +Completion 21 +Sleep’s Treachery 24 +Art versus Cupid 25 +The Revolt of Vashti 33 +The Choosing of Esther 37 +Honeymoon Scene 42 +The Cost 49 +The Voice 52 +God’s Answer 55 +The Edict of the Sex 56 +The World-child 59 +The Heights 61 +On seeing ‘The House of Julia’ at Herculaneum 63 +A Prayer 64 +What is Right Living? 66 +Justice 67 +Time’s Gaze 68 +The Worker and the Work 70 +Art thou Alive? 72 +To-day 74 +The Ladder 76 +Who is a Christian? 78 +The Goal 80 +The Spur 82 +Awakened! 84 +Shadows 86 +The New Commandment 88 +Summer Dreams 90 +The Breaking of Chains 92 +December 94 +‘The Way’ 96 +The Leader to be 98 +The Greater Love 100 +Thank God for Life 102 +Time Enough 104 +New Year’s Day 106 +Life is a Privilege 108 +In an Old Art Gallery 110 +True Brotherhood 111 +The Decadent 112 +Lord, speak again 113 +My Heaven 116 +Life 118 +God’s Kin 120 +Conquest 121 +The Statue 122 +Sirius 124 +At Fontainebleau 128 +The Masquerade 129 +Sympathy 131 +Intermediary 133 +Life’s Car 135 +Opportunity 135 +The Age of Motored Things 136 +New Year 136 +Disarmament 140 +The Call 141 +A Little Song 142 + NEW THOUGHT PASTELS +A Dialogue 145 +The Weed 147 +Strength 148 +Affirm 149 +The Chosen 150 +The Nameless 152 +The Word 153 +Assistance 155 +‘Credulity’ 156 +Consciousness 157 +The Structure 158 +Our Souls 159 +The Law 160 +Knowledge 161 +Give 163 +Perfection 164 +Fear 165 +The Way 166 +Understood 167 +His Mansion 168 +Effect 169 +Three Things 170 +Obstacles 171 +Prayer 172 +Climbing 173 +‘There is no Death, There are no Dead’ 174 +Realisation 176 + + + + + + +THE LAND BETWEEN + + + Between the little Here and larger Yonder, + There is a realm (or so one day I read) + Where faithful spirits love-enchained may wander, + Till some remembering soul from earth has fled. + Then, reunited, they go forth afar, + From sphere to sphere, where wondrous angels are. + + Not many spirits in that realm are waiting; + Not many pause upon its shores to rest; + For only love, intense and unabating, + Can hold them from the longer, higher quest. + And after grief has wept itself to sleep, + Few hearts on earth their vital memories keep. + + Should I pass on, across the mystic border, + Let thy love link me to that pallid land; + I would not seek the heavens of finer order + Until thy barque had left this coarser strand. + How desolate such journeyings would be, + Though straight to Him, were they not shared by thee. + + Wert thou first called (dear God, how could I bear it?) + I should enchain thee with my love, I know. + Not great enough am I to free thy spirit + From all these tender ties, and bid thee go. + Nor would a soul, unselfish as thine own, + Forget so soon, and speed to heaven alone. + + On earth we find no joy in ways diverging; + How could we find it in the worlds unseen? + I know old memories from my bosom surging, + Would keep thee waiting in that Land Between, + Until together, side by side, we trod + A path of stars, in our great search for God. + + + + +LOVE’S MIRAGE + + + Midway upon the route, he paused athirst + And suddenly across the wastes of heat, + He saw cool waters gleaming, and a sweet + Green oasis upon his vision burst. + A tender dream, long in his bosom nursed, + Spread love’s illusive verdure for his feet; + The barren sands changed into golden wheat; + The way grew glad that late had seemed accursed. + + She shone, the woman wonder, on his soul; + The garden spot, for which men toil and wait; + The house of rest, that is each heart’s demand; + But when, at last, he reached the gleaming goal, + He found, oh, cruel irony of fate, + But desert sun upon the desert sand. + + + + +THE NEED OF THE WORLD + + + I know the need of the world, + Though it would not have me know. + It would hide its sorrow deep, + Where only God may go. + Yet its secret it can not keep; + It tells it awake, or asleep, + It tells it to all who will heed, + And he who runs may read. + The need of the world I know. + + I know the need of the world, + When it boasts of its wealth the loudest, + When it flaunts it in all men’s eyes, + When its mien is the gayest and proudest. + Oh! ever it lies—it lies, + For the sound of its laughter dies + In a sob and a smothered moan, + And it weeps when it sits alone. + The need of the world I know. + + I know the need of the world. + When the earth shakes under the tread + Of men who march to the fight, + When rivers with blood are red + And there is no law but might, + And the wrong way seems the right; + When he who slaughters the most + Is all men’s pride and boast. + The need of the world I know. + + I know the need of the world. + When it babbles of gold and fame, + It is only to lead us astray + From the thing that it dare not name, + For this is the sad world’s way. + Oh! poor blind world grown grey + With the need of a thing so near, + With the want of a thing so dear. + The need of the world I know. + + The need of the world is love. + Deep under the pride of power, + Down under its lust of greed, + For the joys that last but an hour, + There lies forever its need. + For love is the law and the creed + And love is the unnamed goal + Of life, from man to the mole. + Love is the need of the world. + + + + +THE GULF STREAM + + + Skilled mariner, and counted sane and wise, + That was a curious thing which chanced to me, + So good a sailor on so fair a sea. + With favouring winds and blue unshadowed skies, + Led by the faithful beacon of Love’s eyes, + Past reef and shoal, my life-boat bounded free + And fearless of all changes that might be + Under calm waves, where many a sunk rock lies. + + A golden dawn; yet suddenly my barque + Strained at the sails, as in a cyclone’s blast; + And battled with an unseen current’s force, + For we had entered when the night was dark + That old tempestuous Gulf Stream of the Past. + But for love’s eyes, I had not kept the course. + + + + +REMEMBERED + + + His art was loving; Eres set his sign + Upon that youthful forehead, and he drew + The hearts of women, as the sun draws dew. + Love feeds love’s thirst as wine feeds love of wine; + Nor is there any potion from the vine + Which makes men drunken like the subtle brew + Of kisses crushed by kisses; and he grew + Inebriated with that draught divine. + + Yet in his sober moments, when the sun + Of radiant summer paled to lonely fall, + And passion’s sea had grown an ebbing tide, + From out the many, Memory singled one + Full cup that seemed the sweetest of them all— + _The warm red mouth that mocked him and denied_. + + + + +HELEN OF TROY + + +ON THE ISLE OF CRANAE + + + The world an abject vassal to her charms, + And kings competing for a single smile, + Yet love she knew not, till upon this isle + She gave surrender to abducting arms. + Not Theseus, who plucked her lips’ first kiss, + Not Menelaus, lawful mate and spouse, + Such answering passion in her heart could rouse, + Or wake such tumult in her soul as this. + Let come what will, let Greece and Asia meet, + Let heroes die and kingdoms run with gore; + Let devastation spread from shore to shore— + Resplendent Helen finds her bondage sweet. + The whole world fights her battles, while she lies + Sunned in the fervour of young Paris’ eyes. + + + +ON THE ISLE OF RHODES + + + The battles ended, ardent Paris dead, + Of faithful Menelaus long bereft, + Time is the only suitor who is left: + Helen survives, with youth and beauty fled. + By hate remembered, but by love forgot, + Dethroned and driven from her high estate, + Unhappy Helen feels the lash of Fate + And knows at last an unloved woman’s lot. + The Grecian marvel, and the Trojan joy, + The world’s fair wonder, from her palace flies + The furies follow, and great Helen dies, + A death of horror, for the pride of Troy. + + * * * * * + + Yet Time, like Menelaus, all forgives. + Helen, immortal in her beauty, lives. + + + + +LAIS WHEN YOUNG + + + Lais when young, and all her charms in flower, + Lais, whose beauty was the fateful light + That led great ships to anchor in the night + And bring their priceless cargoes to her bower, + Lais yet found her cup of sweet turned sour. + Great Plato’s pupil, from his lofty height, + Zenocrates, unmoved, had seen the white + Sweet wonder of her, and defied her power. + + She snared the world in nets of subtle wiles: + The proud, the famed, all clamoured at her gate; + Dictators plead, inside her portico; + Wisdom sought madness, in her favouring smiles; + Now was she made the laughing-stock of fate: + One loosed her clinging arms, and bade her go. + + + + +LAIS WHEN OLD + + + Lais, when old and all her beauty gone, + Lais, the erstwhile courted pleasure queen, + Walked homeless through Corinth. + One mocked her mien— + One tossed her coins; she took them and passed on. + Down by the harbour sloped a terraced lawn, + Where fountains played; she paused to view the scene. + A marble palace stood in bowers of green + ’Twas here of old she revelled till the dawn. + + Through yonder portico her lovers came— + Hero and statesman, athlete, merchant, sage; + They flung the whole world’s treasures at her feet + To buy her favour and exalt her shame. + + * * * * * + + She spat upon her dole of coins in rage + And faded like a phantom down the street. + + + + +EXISTENCE + + + You are here, and you are wanted, + Though a waif upon life’s stair; + Though the sunlit hours are haunted + With the shadowy shapes of care. + Still the Great One, the All-Seeing + Called your spirit into being— + Gave you strength for any fate. + Since your life by Him was needed, + All your ways by Him are heeded— + You can trust and you can wait. + + You can wait to know the meaning + Of the troubles sent your soul; + Of the chasms intervening + ’Twixt your purpose and your goal; + Of the sorrows and the trials, + Of the silence and denials, + Ofttimes answering to your pleas; + Of the stinted sweets of pleasure, + And of pain’s too generous measure— + You can wait the _why_ of these. + + Forth from planet unto planet, + You have gone, and you will go. + Space is vast, but we must span it; + For life’s purpose is _to know_. + Earth retains you but a minute, + Make the best of what lies in it; + Light the pathway where you are. + There is nothing worth the doing + That will leave regret or rueing, + As you speed from star to star. + + You are part of the Beginning, + You are parcel of To-day. + When He set His world to spinning + You were flung upon your way. + When the system falls to pieces, + When this pulsing epoch ceases, + When the _is_ becomes the _was_, + You will live, for you will enter + In the great Creative Centre, + In the All-Enduring Cause. + + + + +HOLIDAY SONGS + + +I + + + Sailing away on a summer sea, + Out of the bleak March weather; + Drifting away for a loaf and play, + Just you and I together; + And it’s good-bye worry and good-bye hurry + And never a care have we; + With the sea below and the sun above + And nothing to do but dream and love, + Sailing away together. + + Sailing away from the grim old town + And tasks the town calls duty; + Sailing away from walls of grey + To a land of bloom and beauty, + And it’s good-bye to letters from our lessers and our betters, + To the cold world’s smile or its frown. + We sail away on a sunny track + To find the summer and bring it back + And love is our only duty. + + + +II + + + Afloat on a sea of passion + Without a compass or chart, + But the glow of your eye shows the sun is high, + By the sextant of my heart. + I know we are nearing the tropics + By the languor that round us lies, + And the smile on your mouth says the course is south + And the port is Paradise. + + We have left grey skies behind us, + We sail under skies of blue; + You are off with me on lovers’ sea, + And I am away with you. + We have not a single sorrow, + And I have but one fear— + That my lips may miss one offered kiss + From the mouth that is smiling near. + + There is no land of winter; + There is no world of care; + There is bloom and mirth all over the earth, + And love, love everywhere. + Our boat is the barque of Pleasure, + And whatever port we sight + The touch of your hand will make the land + The Harbour of Pure Delight. + + + + +ASTROLABIUS +(THE CHILD OF ABELARD AND HELOISE) + + +I + + + I wrenched from a passing comet in its flight, + By that great force of two mad hearts aflame, + A soul incarnate, back to earth you came, + To glow like star-dust for a little night. + Deep shadows hide you wholly from our sight; + The centuries leave nothing but your name, + Tinged with the lustre of a splendid shame, + That blazed oblivion with rebellious light. + + The mighty passion that became your cause, + Still burns its lengthening path across the years; + We feel its raptures, and we see its tears + And ponder on its retributive laws. + Time keeps that deathless story ever new; + Yet finds no answer, when we ask of you. + + + +II + + + At Argenteuil, I saw the lonely cell + Where Heloise dreamed through her broken rest, + That baby lips pulled at her undried breast. + It needed but my woman’s heart to tell + Of those long vigils and the tears that fell + When aching arms reached out in fruitless quest, + As after flight, wings brood an empty nest. + (So well I know that sorrow, ah, so well.) + + Across the centuries there comes no sound + Of that vast anguish; not one sigh or word + Or echo of the mother loss has stirred, + The sea of silence, lasting and profound. + Yet to each heart, that once has felt this grief, + Sad Memory restores Time’s missing leaf. + + + +III + + + But what of you? Who took the mother’s place + When sweet expanding love its object sought? + Was there a voice to tell her tragic lot, + And did you ever look upon her face? + Was yours a cloistered seeking after grace? + Or in the flame of adolescent thought + Were Abelard’s departed passions caught + To burn again in you and leave their trace? + + Conceived in nature’s bold primordial way + (As in their revolutions, suns create), + You came to earth, a soul immaculate, + Baptized in fire, with some great part to play. + What was that part, and wherefore hid from us, + Immortal mystery, Astrolabius! + + + + +COMPLETION + + + When I shall meet God’s generous dispensers + Of all the riches in the heavenly store, + Those lesser gods, who act as Recompensers + For loneliness and loss upon this shore, + Methinks abashed, and somewhat hesitating, + My soul its wish and longing will declare. + Lest they reply: ‘Here are no bounties waiting: + We gave on earth, your portion and your share.’ + + Then shall I answer: ‘Yea, I do remember + The many blessings to my life allowed; + My June was always longer than December, + My sun was always stronger than my cloud, + My joy was ever deeper than my sorrow, + My gain was ever greater than my loss, + My yesterday seemed less than my to-morrow, + The crown looked always larger than the cross. + + ‘I have known love, in all its radiant splendour, + It shone upon my pathway to the end. + I trod no road that did not bloom with tender + And fragrant blossoms, planted by some friend. + And those material things we call successes, + In modest measure, crowned my earthly lot. + Yet was there one sweet happiness that blesses + The life of woman, which to me came not. + + ‘I knew the hope of motherhood; a season + I felt a fluttering heart beat ’neath my own; + A little cry—then silence. For that reason + I dare, to you, my only wish make known. + The babe who grew to angelhood in heaven, + I never watched unfold from child to man. + And so I ask, that unto me be given + That motherhood, which was God’s primal plan. + + ‘All womankind He meant to share its glories; + He meant us all to nurse our babes to rest. + To croon them songs, to tell them sleepy stories, + Else why the wonder of a woman’s breast? + He must provide for all earth’s cheated mothers + In His vast heavens of shining sphere on sphere, + And with my son, there must be many others— + My spirit children who will claim me here. + + ‘Fair creatures by my loving thoughts created— + Too finely fashioned for a mortal birth— + Between the borders of two worlds they waited + Until they saw my spirit leave the earth. + In God’s great nursery they must be waiting + To welcome me with many an infant wile. + Now let me go and satisfy this longing + To mother children for a little while.’ + + + + +SLEEP’S TREACHERY + + + As the grey twilight, tiptoed down the deep + And shadowy valley, to the day’s dark end, + She whom I thought my ever-faithful friend, + Fair-browed, calm-eyed and mother-bosomed Sleep, + Met me with smiles. ‘Poor longing heart, I keep + Sweet joy for you,’ she murmured. ‘I will send + One whom you love, with your own soul to blend + In visions, as the night hours onward creep.’ + + I trusted her; and watched by starry beams, + I slumbered soundly, free from all alarms. + Then not my love, but one long banished came, + Led by false Sleep, down secret stairs of dreams + And clasped me, unresisting in fond arms. + Oh, treacherous sleep—to sell me to such shame! + + + + +ART _VERSUS_ CUPID + + +[_A room in a private house_. _A maiden sitting before a fire +meditating_.] + + MAIDEN + + Now have I fully fixed upon my part. + Good-bye to dreams; for me a life of art! + Beloved art! Oh, realm serene and fair, + Above the mean and sordid world of care, + Above earth’s small ambitions and desires! + Art! art! the very word my soul inspires! + From foolish memories it sets me free. + Not what has been, but that which is to be + Absorbs me now. Adieu to vain regret! + The bow is tensely drawn—the target set. + + [_A knock at the door_.] + + MAID (_aside_) + + The night is dark and chill; the hour is late. + + (_Aloud_) + + Who knocks upon my door? + + _A Voice Outside_ + + ’Tis I, your fate! + + MAID + + Thou dost deceive, not me, but thine own self. + My fate is not a wandering, vagrant elf. + My fate is here, within this throbbing heart + That beats alone for glory, and for art. + + _Voice_ + + [_Another knock at door_.] + + Pray, let me in; I am so faint and cold. + +[_Door is pushed ajar_. _Enter_ CUPID, _who approaches the fire with +outstretched hands_.] + + MAID (_indignantly_) + + Methinks thou art not faint, however cold, + But rather too courageous, and most bold; + Surprisingly ill-mannered, sir, and rude, + Without an invitation to intrude + Into my very presence. + + CUPID (_warming his hands_) + + But, you see, + Girls never mind a little chap like me. + They’re always watching for me on the sly, + And hoping I will call. + + MAID (_haughtily_) + + Indeed, not I! + My heart has listened to a sweeter voice, + A clarion call that gives command—not choice. + And I have answered to that call, ‘I come’; + To other voices shall my ears be dumb. + To art alone I consecrate my life— + Art is my spouse, and I his willing wife. + + CUPID (_slowly_, _gazing in the grate_) + + Art is a sultan, and you must divide + His love with many another ill-fed bride. + Now I know one who worships you alone. + + MAID (_impatiently_) + + I will not listen! for the dice is thrown + And art has won me. On my brow some day + Shall rest the laurel wreath— + + CUPID (_sitting down and looking at_ MAID _critically_) + + Just let me say + I think sweet orange blossoms under lace + Are better suited to your type of face. + + MAID (_ignoring interruption_) + + I yet shall stand before an audience + That listens as one mind, absorbed, intense, + And with my genius I shall rouse its cheers, + Still it to silence, soften it to tears, + Or wake its laughter. Oh, the play! the play! + The play’s the thing! My boy, _the play_!! + + CUPID (_suddenly clapping his hands_) + + Oh, say! + I know a splendid role for you to take, + And one that always keeps the house awake— + And calls for pretty dressing. Oh, it’s great! + + MAID (_excitedly_) + + Well, well, what is it? Wherefore make me wait? + + CUPID (_tapping his brow_, _thoughtfully_) + + How is it those lines run—oh, now I know; + You make a stately entrance—measured—slow— + To stirring music, then you kneel and say + Something about—to honour and obey— + For better and for worse—till death do part. + + MAID (_angrily_) + + Be still, you foolish boy; that is not _art_. + + CUPID (_seriously_) + + She needs great skill who takes the role of wife + In God’s stupendous drama human life. + + MAID (_suddenly becoming serious_) + + So I once thought! Oh, once my very soul + Was filled and thrilled with dreaming of that role. + Life seemed so wonderful; it held for me + No purpose, no ambition, but to be + Loving and loved. My highest thought of fame + Was some day bearing my dear lover’s name. + Alone, I ofttimes uttered it aloud, + Or wrote it down, half timid, and all proud + To see myself lost utterly in him: + As some small star might joy in growing dim + When sinking in the sun; or as the dew, + Forgetting the brief little life it knew + In space, might on the ocean’s bosom fall + And ask for nothing—only to give all. + + CUPID (_aside_) + + Now, _that’s_ the talk—it’s music to my ear + After that stuff on ‘art’ and a ‘career.’ + I hope she’ll keep it up. + + MAIDEN (_continuing her reverie_) + + Again my dream + Shaped into changing pictures. I would seem + To see myself in beautiful array + Move down the aisle upon my wedding day; + And then I saw the modest living-room + With lighted lamp, and fragrant plants in bloom, + And books and sewing scattered all about, + And just we two alone. + + CUPID (_in glee aside_) + + There’s not a doubt + I’ll land her yet! + + MAIDEN + + My dream kaleidoscope + Changed still again, and framed love’s dearest hope— + The trinity of home; and life was good + And all its deepest meaning understood. + +[_Sits lost in a dream_. _Behind scenes a voice sings a lullaby_, +‘_Beautiful Land of Nod_.’ CUPID _in ecstasy tiptoes about and clasps +his hands in delight_.] + + Another scene! a matron in her prime, + I saw myself glide peacefully with time + Into the quiet middle years, content + With simple joys the dear home circle lent. + My sons and daughters made my diadem; + I saw my happy youth renewed in them. + The pain of growing old lost all its sting, + For Love stood near—in Winter, as in Spring. + +[CUPID _tiptoes to door and makes a signal_. MAIDEN _starts up +dramatically_.] + + ’Twas but a dream! I woke all suddenly. + The world had changed! And now life means to me + My art—the stage—excitement and the crowd— + The glare of many foot-lights—and the loud + Applause of men, as I cry in rage, + ‘Give me the dagger!’ or creep down the stage + In that sleep-walking scene. Oh, art like mine + Will send the chills down every listener’s spine! + And when I choose, salt tears shall freely flow + As in the moonlight I cry, ‘Romeo! Romeo! + Oh, wherefore art thou, Romeo?’ + Ay, ’tis done + My dream of home life. + + CUPID + + It is but begun. + + MAIDEN + + The heart but once can dream a dream so fair, + And so henceforth love thoughts I do forswear; + Since faith in love has crumbled to the dust, + In fame alone, I put my hope and trust. + +[CUPID _at the door beckons excitedly_. _Enter lover with outstretched +arms_.] + + CUPID + + Here’s one who will explain yourself to you + And make that old sweet dream of love come true. + Fix up your foolish quarrel; time is brief— + So waste no more of it in doubt or grief. + +[_The lovers meet and embrace_.] + + CUPID (_in doorway_) + + Warm lip to lip, and heart to beating heart, + The cast is made—My Lady has her part. + + CURTAIN + + + + +THE REVOLT OF VASHTI +(FROM THE DRAMA OF MIZPAH) + + + AHASUERAS + + Is this the way to greet thy loving spouse, + But now returned from scenes of blood and strife? + I pray thee raise thy veil and let me gaze + Upon that beauty which hath greater power + To conquer me than all the arts of war! + + VASHTI + + My beauty! Ay, my _beauty_! I do hold, + In thy regard, no more an honoured place + Than yonder marble pillar, or the gold + And jewelled wine-cup which thy lips caress. + Thou wouldst degrade me in the people’s sight! + + AHASUERAS + + Degrade thee, Vashti? Rather do I seek + To show my people who are gathered here + How, as the consort of so fair a queen, + I feel more pride than as the mighty king: + For there be many rulers on the earth, + But only _one_ such queen. Come, raise thy veil! + + VASHTI + + Ay! only _one_ such queen! A queen is one + Who shares her husband’s greatness and his throne. + I am no more than yonder dancing girl + Who struts and smirks before a royal court! + But I will loose my veil and loose my tongue! + Now listen, sire—my master and my king; + And let thy princes and the court give ear! + ’Tis time all heard how Vashti feels her shame. + + AHASUERAS + + Shame is no word to couple with thy name! + Shame and a spotless woman may not meet, + Even in a sentence. Choose another word. + + VASHTI + + Ay, _shame_, my lord—there is no synonym + That can give voice to my ignoble state. + To be a thing for eyes to gaze upon, + Yet held an outcast from thy heart and mind; + To hear my beauty praised but not my worth; + To come and go at Pleasure’s beck and call, + While barred from Wisdom’s conclaves! Think ye _that_ + A noble calling for a noble dame? + Why, any concubine amongst thy train + Could play my royal part as well as I— + Were she as fair! + + AHASUERAS + + Queen Vashti, art thou _mad_? + I would behead another did he dare + To so besmirch thee with comparison. + + VASHTI (_to the court_) + + Gaze now your fill! Behold Queen Vashti’s eyes! + How large they gleam beneath her inch of brow! + How like a great white star, her splendid face + Shines through the midnight forest of her hair! + And see the crushed pomegranate of her mouth! + Observe her arms, her throat, her gleaming breasts, + Whereon the royal jewels rise and fall!— + And note the crescent curving of her hips, + And lovely limbs suggested ’neath her robes! + Gaze, gaze, I say, for these have made her queen! + She hath no mind, no heart, no dignity, + Worth royal recognition and regard; + But her fair body approbation meets + And whets the sated appetite of kings! + Now ye have seen what she was bid to show. + The queen hath played her part and begs to go. + + AHASUERAS + + Ay, Vashti, go and never more return! + Not only hast thou wronged thine own true lord, + And mocked and shamed me in the people’s eyes, + But thou hast wronged all princes and all men + By thy pernicious and rebellious ways. + Queens act and subjects imitate. So let + Queen Vashti weigh her conduct and her words, + Or be no more called ‘queen!’ + + VASHTI + + I was a princess ere I was a queen, + And worthy of a better fate than this! + There lies the crown that made me queen in name! + Here stands the woman—wife in name alone! + Now, no more queen—nor wife—but woman still— + Ay, and a woman strong enough to be + Her own avenger. + + + + +THE CHOOSING OF ESTHER +(FROM THE DRAMA OF MIZPAH) + + + AHASUERAS + + Tell me thy name! + + ESTHER + + My name, great sire, is Esther. + + AHASUERAS + + So thou art Esther? Esther! ’tis a name + Breathed into sound as softly as a sigh. + A woman’s name should melt upon the lips + Like Love’s first kisses, and thy countenance + Is fit companion for so sweet a name! + + ESTHER + + Thou art most kind. I would my name and face + Were mine own making and not accident. + Then I might feel elated at thy praise, + Where now I feel confusion. + + AHASUERAS + + Thou hast wit + As well as beauty, Esther. Both are gems + That do embellish woman in man’s sight. + Yet they are gems of second magnitude! + Dost _thou_ possess the one great perfect gem— + The matchless jewel of the world called _love_? + + ESTHER + + Sire, in the heart of every woman dwells + That wondrous perfect gem! + + AHASUERAS + + Then, Esther, speak! + And tell me what is _love_! I fain would know + Thy definition of that much-mouthed word, + By woman most employed—least understood. + + ESTHER + + What can a humble Jewish maiden know + That would instruct a warrior and a king? + I have but dreamed of love as maidens will + While thou hast known its fulness. All the world + Loves Great Ahasueras! + + AHASUERAS + + All the world + _Fears great_ Ahasueras! Kings, my child, + Are rarely loved as anything but kings. + Love, as I see it in the court and camp, + Means seeking royal favour. I would know + How love is fashioned in a maiden’s dreams. + + ESTHER + + Sire, love seeks nothing that kings can bestow. + Love is the king of all kings here below; + Love makes the monarch but a bashful boy, + Love makes the peasant monarch in his joy; + Love seeks not place, all places are the same, + When lighted by the radiance of love’s flame. + Who deems proud love could fawn to power and splendour + Hath known not love, but some base-born pretender. + + AHASUERAS + + If this be love, I would know more of it. + Speak on, fair Esther! What is love beside? + + ESTHER + + Love is in all things, all things are in love. + Love is the earth, the sea, the skies above; + Love is the bird, the blossom, and the wind; + Love hath a million eyes, yet love is blind; + Love is a tempest, awful in its might; + Love is the silence of a moon-lit night; + Love is the aim of every human soul; + And he who hath not loved hath missed life’s goal! + + AHASUERAS + + But tell me of thyself, of thine own dreams! + How wouldst thou love, and how be loved again? + + ESTHER + + Who most doth love thinks least of love’s return; + She is content to feel the passion burn + In her own bosom, and its sacred fire + Consumes each selfish purpose and desire. + ’Tis in the giving, love’s best rapture lies, + Not in the counting of the things it buys. + + AHASUERAS + + Yet, is there not vast anguish and despair + In love that finds no answering word or smile? + + ESTHER + + So radiant is love, it lends a glow + To each dark sorrow and to every woe. + To love completely is to part with pain, + Nor is there mortal who can love in vain. + Love is its own reward, it pays full measure, + And in love’s sharpest grief lies subtlest pleasure. + + AHASUERAS + + Methinks, a mighty warrior, lord or king + Must in thy fancy play the lover’s part; + None else could wake such reverential thought. + + ESTHER + + When woman loves one born of lowly state, + Her thought gives crown and sceptre to her mate; + Yet be he king, or chief of some great clan, + She loves him but as woman loves a man. + Monarch or peasant, ’tis the same, I wis + When once she gives him love’s surrendering kiss. + + + + +HONEYMOON SCENE +(FROM THE DRAMA OF MIZPAH) + + + AHASUERAS + + What were thy thoughts, sweet Esther? Something passed + Across thy face, that for a moment veiled + Thy soul from mine, and left me desolate. + Thy thoughts were not of me? + + ESTHER + + Ay, _all_ of thee! + I wondered, if in truth, thou wert content + With me—thy choice. Was there no other one + Of all who passed before thee at thy court + Whose memory pursues thee with regret? + + AHASUERAS + + I do confess I much regret that day + And wish I could relive it. + + ESTHER + + Oh! My lord! + + AHASUERAS + + Yea! I regret those hours I wasted on + The poor procession that preceded thee. + Hadst thou come first, then all the added wealth + + Of one long day of loving thee were mine— + A boundless fortune squandered. Though I live + To three score years and ten, as I do hope, + In wedded love beside thee, that one day + Was filched from me and cannot be restored. + + ESTHER + + And then to think how frightened and abashed + I hung outside thy gates from early morn, + Not daring to go in and meet thine eyes, + Till pitying twilight clothed me in her veil, + And evening walked beside me to thy door. + + AHASUERAS + + So it was thou, fair thief, who stole that day, + And made me poorer, by—how many hours? + + ESTHER + + Full eight, I think. They seemed a hundred then, + And now time flies a hundred times too fast. + + AHASUERAS + + Then eight more kisses do I claim from thee, + This very hour—first tithes of many due. + I shall exact these payments as I will, + And if they be not ready on demand, + I’ll lock thee in the prison of my arms, + Like this—and take them so—and so—and so! + + ESTHER + + But kings must think of other things than love + And live for other aims than happiness. + I would not drag thee from thy altitude + Of mighty ruler and great conqueror + To chain thee by my side. + + AHASUERAS + + Such slavery + Would please me better than to conquer earth + Without thee, Esther. I have stood on heights + And heard the cheers of multitudes below; + Have known the loneliness of being great. + Now, let me live and love thee, like a man, + Forgetting I am king— + I am content. + + ESTHER + + Content is not the pathway to great deeds. + As man, I hold thee higher than all kings; + As king, thou must stand higher than all men + In other eyes. Let no one say of me: + ‘She spoiled his greatness by her littleness; + She made a languorous lover of a king, + And silenced war-cries on commanding lips— + With honeyed kisses; made her woman’s arms + Preferred to armour, and her couch to tents, + Until the kingdom, with no guiding hand, + Plunged down to ruin.’ + + AHASUERAS + + Thou wouldst have me go— + So soon thy heart hath wearied? + + ESTHER + + My heart is bursting with its love for thee! + Canst thou not feel its fervour? But great men + Need wiser guidance than a woman’s heart. + My pride in thee is equal to my love, + And I would have thee greater than thou art— + Ay, greater than all other men on earth— + Though forced long years to feed my hungry heart + On food of memories and wine of tears, + Wert thou but winning glory and renown. + + AHASUERAS + + Thou art most noble, Esther; thou art fit + To be the consort of a king of kings. + But I have chewed upon ambition’s husks + And starved for love through all my manhood’s years; + And now the mighty gods have seen it fit + To spread love’s banquet and to name thee host, + May I not feast my fill? O Esther, take + The tempting nectar of those lips away + And give me wine to rouse the brute in me, + To make me thirst for blood instead of love! + Wine! Wine! I say! + + ESTHER + + Ahasueras, wait! + Methinks good music is wine turned to sound. + Here comes thy minstrel with an offering + Pressed from the ripened fruit of my fond heart. + Mine own the words and mine the melody + And may it linger longer in thine ear + Than on thy lip would stay the taste of wine. + Sing on! + + MINSTREL + + When from the field returning, + Love is a warrior’s yearning, + Love in his heart is burning, + Love is his dream. + Talk not to him of glory, + Speak not of faces gory, + Sing of love’s tender story, + Make it thy theme. + Sing of his lady’s tresses, + Sing of the smile that blesses, + Sing of the sweet caresses, + And yet again + Sing of fair children’s faces, + Sing of the dear home graces, + Sing till the vacant places, + Ring with thy strain. + Yet as the days go speeding, + Shall he arise unheeding + Love songs or words of pleading, + Strong in his might! + Helmet and armour wearing, + Hies he to deeds of daring, + Forth to the battle faring, + Back to the fight. + Sing now of ranks contending, + Sing of loud voices blending, + Sing of great warriors sending + Death to their foes! + Sing of war missiles humming, + Strike into martial drumming, + Sing of great victory coming, + As forth he goes. + Back to the battle faring, + Back into deeds of daring, + Back to the fight. + + AHASUERAS + + No less a lover but a greater man, + A better warrior and a nobler king, + I will be from this hour for thy dear sake. + + + + +THE COST + + + God finished woman in the twilight hour + And said, ‘To-morrow thou shalt find thy place: + Man’s complement, the mother of the race— + With love the motive power— + The one compelling power.’ + + All night she dreamed and wondered. With the light + Her lover came—and then she understood + The purpose of her being. Life was good + And all the world seemed right— + And nothing was, but right. + + She had no wish for any wider sway: + By all the questions of the world unvexed, + Supremely loving and superbly sexed, + She passed upon her way— + Her feminine fair way. + + But God neglected, when He fashioned man, + To fuse the molten splendour of his mind + With that sixth sense He gave to womankind. + And so He marred His plan— + Ay, marred His own great plan. + + She asked so little, and so much she gave, + That man grew selfish: and she soon became, + To God’s great sorrow and the whole world’s shame, + Man’s sweet and patient slave— + His uncomplaining slave. + + Yet in the nights (oh! nights so dark and long) + She clasped her little children to her breast + And wept. And in her anguish of unrest + She thought upon her wrong; + She knew how great her wrong. + + And one sad hour, she said unto her heart, + ‘Since thou art cause of all my bitter pain, + I bid thee abdicate the throne: let brain + Rule now, and do his part— + His masterful, strong part.’ + + She wept no more. By new ambition stirred + Her ways led out, to regions strange and vast. + Men stood aside and watched, dismayed, aghast, + And all the world demurred— + Misjudged her, and demurred. + + Still on and up, from sphere to widening sphere, + Till thorny paths bloomed with the rose of fame. + Who once demurred, now followed with acclaim: + The hiss died in the cheer— + The loud applauding cheer. + + She stood triumphant in that radiant hour, + Man’s mental equal, and competitor. + But ah! the cost! from out the heart of her + Had gone love’s motive power— + Love’s all-compelling power. + + + + +THE VOICE + + + I dreamed a Voice, of one God-authorised, + Cried loudly thro’ the world, ‘Disarm! Disarm!’ + And there was consternation in the camps; + And men who strutted under braid and lace + Beat on their medalled breasts, and wailed, ‘Undone!’ + The word was echoed from a thousand hills, + And shop and mill, and factory and forge, + Where throve the awful industries of death, + Hushed into silence. Scrawled upon the doors, + The passer read, ‘Peace bids her children starve.’ + But foolish women clasped their little sons + And wept for joy, not reasoning like men. + + Again the Voice commanded: ‘Now go forth + And build a world for Progress and for Peace. + This work has waited since the earth was shaped; + But men were fighting, and they could not toil. + The needs of life outnumber needs of death. + Leave death with God. Go forth, I say, and build.’ + + And then a sudden, comprehensive joy + Shone in the eyes of men; and one who thought + Only of conquests and of victories + Woke from his gloomy reverie and cried, + ‘Ay, come and build! I challenge all to try. + And I will make a world more beautiful + Than Eden was before the serpent came.’ + And like a running flame on western wilds, + Ambition spread from mind to listening mind, + And lo! the looms were busy once again, + And all the earth resounded with men’s toil. + + Vast palaces of Science graced the world; + Their banquet tables spread with feasts of truth + For all who hungered. Music kissed the air, + Once rent with boom of cannons. Statues gleamed + From wooded ways, where ambushed armies hid + In times of old. The sea and air were gay + With shining sails that soared from land to land. + A universal language of the world + Made nations kin, and poverty was known + + But as a word marked ‘obsolete,’ like war. + The arts were kindled with celestial fire; + New poets sang so Homer’s fame grew dim; + And brush and chisel gave the wondering race + Sublimer treasures than old Greece displayed. + Men differed still; fierce argument arose, + For men are human in this human sphere; + But unarmed Arbitration stood between + And Reason settled in a hundred hours + What War disputed for a hundred years. + + Oh, that a Voice, of one God-authorised + Might cry to all mankind, Disarm! Disarm! + + + + +GOD’S ANSWER + + + Once in a time of trouble and of care + I dreamed I talked with God about my pain; + With sleepland courage, daring to complain + Of what I deemed ungracious and unfair. + ‘Lord, I have grovelled on my knees in prayer + Hour after hour,’ I cried; ‘yet all in vain; + No hand leads up to heights I would attain, + No path is shown me out of my despair.’ + + Then answered God: ‘Three things I gave to thee— + Clear brain, brave will, and strength of mind and heart, + All implements divine, to shape the way. + Why shift the burden of thy toil on Me? + Till to the utmost he has done his part + With all his might, let no man _dare_ to pray.’ + + + + +THE EDICT OF THE SEX + + + Two thousand years had passed since Christ was born, + When suddenly there rose a mighty host + Of women, sweeping to a central goal + As many rivers sweep on to the sea. + They came from mountains, valleys, and from coasts, + And from all lands, all nations, and all ranks, + Speaking all languages, but thinking one. + And that one language—Peace. + + ‘Listen,’ they said, + And straightway was there silence on the earth, + For men were dumb with wonder and surprise. + ‘Listen, O mighty masters of the world, + And hear the edict of all womankind: + Since Christ His new commandment gave to men, + _Love one another_, full two thousand years + Have passed away, yet earth is red with blood. + The strong male rulers of the world proclaim + Their weakness, when we ask that war shall cease. + Now will the poor weak women of the world + Proclaim their strength, and say that war shall end. + Hear, then, our edict: Never from this day + Will any woman on the crust of earth + Mother a warrior. We have sworn the oath + And will go barren to the waiting tomb + Rather than breed strong sons at war’s behest, + Or bring fair daughters into life, to bear + The pains of travail, for no end but war. + Ay! let the race die out for lack of babes + Better a dying race than endless wars! + Better a silent world than noise of guns + And clash of armies. + + ‘Long we asked for peace, + And oft you promised—but to fight again. + At last you told us, war must ever be + While men existed, laughing at our plea + For the disarmament of all mankind. + Then in our hearts flamed such a mad desire + For peace on earth, as lights the world at times + With some great conflagration; and it spread + From distant land to land, from sea to sea, + Until all women thought as with one mind + And spoke as with one voice; and now behold! + The great Crusading Syndicate of Peace, + Filling all space with one supreme resolve. + Give us, O men, your word that war shall end: + Disarm the world, and we will give you sons— + Sons to construct, and daughters to adorn + A beautiful new earth, where there shall be + Fewer and finer people, opulence + And opportunity and peace for all. + Until you promise peace no shrill birth-cry + Shall sound again upon the aging earth. + We wait your answer.’ + + And the world was still + While men considered. + + + + +THE WORLD-CHILD + + + At times I am the mother of the world; + And mine seem all its sorrows, and its fears. + That rose, which in each mother-heart is curled, + The rose of pity, opens with my tears, + And, waking in the night, I lie and hark + To the lone sobbing, and the wild alarms, + Of my World-child, a wailing in the dark: + The child I fain would shelter in my arms. + I call to it (as from another room + A mother calls, what time she cannot go): + ‘Sleep well, dear world; Love hides behind this gloom. + There is no need for wakefulness or woe, + The long, long night is almost past and gone, + The day is near.’ And yet the world weeps on. + + Again I follow it, throughout the day. + With anxious eyes I see it trip and fall, + And hurt itself in many a foolish way: + Childlike, unheeding warning word or call. + I see it grasp, and grasping, break the toys + It cried to own, then toss them on the floor + And, breathless, hurry after fancied joys + That cease to please, when added to its store. + I see the lacerations on its hands, + Made by forbidden tools; but when it weeps, + I also weep, as one who understands; + And having been a child, the memory keeps. + Ah, my poor world, however wrong thy part, + Still is there pity in my mother-heart. + + + + +THE HEIGHTS + + + I cried, ‘Dear Angel, lead me to the heights, + And spur me to the top.’ + The Angel answered, ‘Stop + And set thy house in order; make it fair + For absent ones who may be speeding there. + Then will we talk of heights.’ + + I put my house in order. ‘Now lead on!’ + The Angel said, ‘Not yet; + Thy garden is beset + By thorns and tares; go weed it, so all those + Who come to gaze may find the unvexed rose; + Then will we journey on.’ + + I weeded well my garden. ‘All is done.’ + The Angel shook his head. + ‘A beggar stands,’ he said, + ‘Outside thy gates; till thou hast given heed + And soothed his sorrow, and supplied his need, + Say not that all is done.’ + + The beggar left me singing. ‘Now at last— + At last the path is clear.’ + ‘Nay, there is one draws near + Who seeks, like thee, the difficult highway. + He lacks thy courage; cheer him through the day + Then will we cry, “At last!”’ + + I helped my weaker brother. ‘Now the heights; + Oh, Guide me, Angel, guide!’ + The Presence at my side, + With radiant face, said, ‘Look, where are we now?’ + And lo! we stood upon the mountain’s brow— + The heights, the shining heights! + + + + +ON SEEING ‘THE HOUSE OF JULIA’ AT HERCULANEUM + + + Not great Vesuvius, in all his ire, + Nor all the centuries, could hide your shame. + There is the little window where you came, + With eyes that woke the demon of desire, + And lips like rose leaves, fashioned out of fire; + And from the lava leaps the molten flame + Of your old sins. The walls cry out your name— + Your face seems rising from the funeral pyre. + + There must have dwelt, within your fated town, + Full many a virtuous dame, and noble wife + Who made your beauty seem as star to sun; + How strange the centuries have handed down + Your name, fair Julia, of immoral life, + And left the others to oblivion. + + + + +A PRAYER + + + Master of sweet and loving lore, + Give us the open mind + To know religion means no more, + No less, than being kind. + + Give us the comprehensive sight + That sees another’s need; + And let our aim to set things right + Prove God inspired our creed. + + Give us the soul to know our kin + That dwell in flock and herd, + The voice to fight man’s shameful sin + Against the beast and bird. + + Give us a heart with love so fraught + For all created things, + That even our unspoken thought + Bears healing on its wings. + + Give us religion that will cope + With life’s colossal woes, + And turn a radiant face of hope + On troops of pigmy foes. + + Give us the mastery of our fate + In thoughts so warm and white, + They stamp upon the brows of hate + Love’s glorious seal of light. + + Give us the strong, courageous faith + That makes of pain a friend, + And calls the secret word of death + ‘Beginning,’ and not ‘end.’ + + + + +WHAT IS RIGHT LIVING? + + + What is right living? Just to do your best + When worst seems easier. To bear the ills + Of daily life with patient cheerfulness + Nor waste dear time recounting them. + To talk + Of hopeful things when doubt is in the air. + To count your blessings often, giving thanks, + And to accept your sorrows silently, + Nor question why you suffer. To accept + The whole of life as one perfected plan, + And welcome each event as part of it. + To work, and love your work; to trust, to pray + For larger usefulness and clearer sight. + This is right living, pleasing in God’s eyes, + Though you be heathen, heretic or Jew. + + + + +JUSTICE + + + However inexplicable may seem + Event and circumstance upon this earth, + Though favours fall on those whom none esteem, + And insult and indifference greet worth; + Though poverty repays the life of toil, + And riches spring where idle feet have trod, + And storms lay waste the patiently tilled soil— + Yet Justice sways the universe of God. + + As undisturbed the stately stars remain + Beyond the glare of day’s obscuring light, + So Justice dwells, though mortal eyes in vain + Seek it persistently by reason’s sight. + But when, once freed, the illumined soul looks out. + Its cry will be, ‘O God, how could I doubt!’ + + + + +TIME’S GAZE + + + Time looked me in the eyes while passing by + The milestone of the year. That piercing gaze + Was both an accusation and reproach. + No speech was needed. In a sorrowing look + More meaning lies than in complaining words, + And silence hurts as keenly as reproof. + + Oh, opulent, kind giver of rich hours, + How have I used thy benefits! As babes + Unstring a necklace, laughing at the sound + Of priceless jewels dropping one by one, + So have I laughed while precious moments rolled + Into the hidden corners of the past. + And I have let large opportunities + For high endeavour move unheeded by, + While little joys and cares absorbed my strength. + + And yet, dear Time, set to my credit this: + _Not one white hour have I made black with hate_, + _Nor wished one living creature aught but good_. + + Be patient with me. Though the sun slants west, + The day has not yet finished, and I feel + Necessity for action and resolve + Bear in upon my consciousness. I know + The earth’s eternal need of earnest souls, + And the great hunger of the world for Love. + I know the goal to high achievement lies + Through the dull pathway of self-conquest first; + And on the stairs of little duties done + We climb to joys that stand thy test. O Time, + Be patient with me, and another day, + Perchance, in passing by, thine eyes may smile. + + + + +THE WORKER AND THE WORK + + + In what I do I note the marring flaw, + The imperfections of the work I see; + Nor am I one who rather _do_ than _be_, + Since its reversal is Creation’s law. + + Nay, since there lies a better and a worse, + A lesser and a larger, in men’s view, + I would be better than the thing I do, + As God is greater than His universe. + + He shaped Himself before He shaped one world: + A million eons, toiling day and night, + He built Himself to majesty and might, + Before the planets into space were hurled. + + And when Creation’s early work was done, + What crude beginnings out of chaos came— + A formless nebula, a wavering flame, + An errant comet, a voracious sun. + + And, still unable to perfect His plan, + What awful creatures at His touch found birth— + Those protoplasmic monsters of the earth, + That owned the world before He fashioned Man. + + And now, behold the poor unfinished state + Of this, His latest masterpiece! Then why, + Seeing the flaws in my own work, should I + Be troubled that no voice proclaims it great? + + Before me lie the cycling rounds of years; + With this small earth will die the thing I do: + The thing I am, goes journeying onward through + A million lives, upon a million spheres. + + My work I build, as best I can and may, + Knowing all mortal effort ends in dust. + I build myself, not as I may, but must, + Knowing, or good, or ill, that self must stay. + + Along the ages, out, and on, afar, + Its journey leads, and must perforce be made. + Likewise its choice, with things of shame and shade, + Or up the path of light, from star to star. + + When all these solar systems shall disperse, + Perchance this labour, and this self-control, + May find reward; and my completed soul + Will fling in space, a little universe. + + + + +ART THOU ALIVE? + + + Art thou alive? Nay, not too soon reply, + Tho’ hand, and foot, and lip, and ear, and eye, + Respond, and do thy bidding yet may be + Grim death has done his direst work with thee. + Life, as God gives it, is a thing apart + From active body and from beating heart. + It is the vital spark, the unseen fire, + That moves the mind to reason and aspire; + It is the force that bids emotion roll, + In mighty billows from the surging soul. + + It is the light that grows from hour to hour, + And floods the brain with consciousness of power; + It is the spirit dominating all, + And reaching God with its imperious call, + Until the shining glory of His face + Illuminates each sorrowful, dark place; + + It is the truth that sets the bondsman free, + Knowing he will be what he wills to be. + With its unburied dead the earth is sad. + Art thou alive? proclaim it and be glad. + Perchance the dead may hear thee and arise, + Knowing they live, and _here_ is Paradise. + + + + +TO-DAY + + + I love this age of energy and force, + Expectantly I greet each pregnant hour; + Emerging from the all-creative source, + Supreme with promise, imminent with power. + The strident whistle and the clanging bell, + The noise of gongs, the rush of motored things + Are but the prophet voices which foretell + A time when thought may use unfettered wings. + + Too long the drudgery of earth has been + A barrier ’twixt man and his own mind. + Remove the stone, and lo! the Christ within; + For He is there, and who so seeks shall find. + The Great Inventor is the Modern Priest. + He paves the pathway to a higher goal. + Once from the grind of endless toil released + Man will explore the kingdom of his soul. + + And all this restless rush, this strain and strife, + This noise and glare is but the fanfarade + That ushers in the more majestic life + Where faith shall walk with science, unafraid. + I feel the strong vibrations of the earth, + I sense the coming of an hour sublime, + And bless the star that watched above my birth + And let me live in this important time. + + + + +THE LADDER + + + Unto each mortal who comes to earth + A ladder is given by God, at birth, + And up this ladder the soul must go, + Step by step, from the valley below; + Step by step, to the centre of space, + On this ladder of lives, to the Starting Place. + + In time departed (which yet endures) + I shaped my ladder, and you shaped yours. + Whatever they are—they are what we made: + A ladder of light, or a ladder of shade, + A ladder of love, or a hateful thing, + A ladder of strength, or a wavering string. + A ladder of gold, or a ladder of straw, + Each is the ladder of righteous law. + + We flung them away at the call of death, + We took them again with the next life breath. + For a keeper stands by the great birth gates; + As each soul passes, its ladder waits. + Though mine be narrow, and yours be broad, + On my ladder alone can I climb to God. + On your ladder alone can your feet ascend, + For none may borrow, and none may lend. + + If toil and trouble and pain are found, + Twisted and corded, to form each round, + If rusted iron or mouldering wood + Is the fragile frame, you must make it good. + You must build it over and fashion it strong, + Though the task be hard as your life is long; + For up this ladder the pathway leads + To earthly pleasures and spirit needs; + And all that may come in another way + Shall be but illusion, and will not stay. + + In useless effort, then, waste no time; + Rebuild your ladder, and climb and climb. + + + + +WHO IS A CHRISTIAN? + + + Who is a Christian in this Christian land + Of many churches and of lofty spires? + Not he who sits in soft upholstered pews + Bought by the profits of unholy greed, + And looks devotion, while he thinks of gain. + Not he who sends petitions from the lips + That lie to-morrow in the street and mart. + Not he who fattens on another’s toil, + And flings his unearned riches to the poor, + Or aids the heathen with a lessened wage, + And builds cathedrals with an increased rent. + + Christ, with Thy great, sweet, simple creed of love, + How must Thou weary of Earth’s ‘Christian’ clans, + Who preach salvation through Thy saving blood + While planning slaughter of their fellow men. + Who is a Christian? It is one whose life + Is built on love, on kindness and on faith; + Who holds his brother as his other self; + Who toils for justice, equity and PEACE, + And hides no aim or purpose in his heart + That will not chord with universal good. + + Though he be pagan, heretic or Jew, + That man is Christian and beloved of Christ. + + + + +THE GOAL + + + All your wonderful inventions, + All your houses vast and tall, + All your great gun-fronted vessels, + Every fort and every wall, + With the passing of the ages, + They shall pass and they shall fall. + + As you sit among the idols + That your avarice gave birth, + As you count the hoarded treasures + That you think of priceless worth, + Time is digging tombs to hide them + In the bosom of the earth. + + There shall come a great convulsion + Or a rushing tidal wave, + Or a sound of mighty thunders + From a subterranean cave, + And a boasting world’s possessions + Shall be buried in one grave. + + From the Centuries of Silence + We are bringing back again + Buried vase and bust and column + And the gods they worshipped then, + In the strange unmentioned cities + Built by prehistoric men. + + Did they steal, and lie, and slaughter? + Did they steep their souls in shame? + Did they sell eternal virtues + Just to win a passing fame? + Did they give the gold of honour + For the tinsel of a name? + + We are hurrying all together + Toward the silence and the night; + There is nothing worth the seeking + But the sun-kissed moral height— + There is nothing worth the doing + But the doing of the _right_. + + + + +THE SPUR + + + I asked the rock beside the road what joy existence lent. + It answered, ‘For a million years my heart has been content.’ + + I asked the truffle-seeking swine, as rooting by he went, + ‘What is the keynote of your life?’ He grunted out, ‘Content.’ + + I asked a slave, who toiled and sung, just what his singing meant. + He plodded on his changeless way, and said, ‘I am content.’ + + I asked a plutocrat of greed, on what his thoughts were bent. + He chinked the silver in his purse, and said, ‘I am content.’ + + I asked the mighty forest tree from whence its force was sent. + Its thousand branches spoke as one, and said, ‘From discontent.’ + + I asked the message speeding on, by what great law was rent + God’s secret from the waves of space. It said, ‘From discontent.’ + + I asked the marble, where the works of God and man were blent, + What brought the statue from the block. It answered, ‘Discontent.’ + + I asked an Angel, looking down on earth with gaze intent, + How man should rise to larger growth. Quoth he, ‘Through discontent.’ + + + + +AWAKENED! + + + Slowly the People waken; they have been, + Like weary soldiers, sleeping in their tents, + While traitors tiptoed through the silent camp + Intent on plunder. Suddenly a sound— + A careless movement of too bold a thief— + Starts one dull sleeper; then another stirs, + A third cries out a warning, and at last + The people are awake! Oh, when as one + The many rise, united and alert, + With Justice for their motto, they reflect + The mighty force of God’s Omnipotence. + And nothing stands before them. Lusty Greed, + Tyrannical Corruption long in power, + And smirking Cant (whose right hand robs and slays + So that the left may dower Church and School), + Monopoly, whose mandate took from Toil + The Mother Earth, that Idleness might loll + And breed the Monster of Colossal Wealth— + All these must fall before the gathering Force + Of public indignation. That old strife + Which marks the progress of each century, + The war of Right with Might, is on once more, + And shame to him who does not take his stand. + + This is the weightiest moment of all time, + And on the issues of the present hour + A nation’s honour and a country’s peace, + A People’s future, ay, a World’s, depends. + + Until the vital questions of the day + Are solved and settled, and the spendthrift thieves + Who rob the coffers of the saving poor + Are led from fashion’s feasts to prison fare, + And taught the saving grace of honest work— + Till Labour claims the privilege of toil + And toil the proceeds of its labour shares— + Let no man sleep, let no man dare to sleep! + + + + +SHADOWS + + + I am sorry in the gladness + Of the joys that crown my days, + For the souls that sit in sadness + Or walk uninviting ways. + + On the radiance of my labour + That a loving fate bestowed, + Falls the shadow of my neighbour, + Crushed beneath a thankless load. + + As the canticle of pleasure + From my lovelit altar rolls, + There is one discordant measure, + As I think of homeless souls. + + And I know that grim old story, + Preached from pulpits, is not so, + For no God could sit in glory + And see sinners writhe below. + + In that great eternal Centre + Where all human life has birth, + Boundless love and pity enter + And flow downward to the earth. + + And all souls in sin or sorrow + Are but passing through the night, + And I know on some to-morrow + God will love them into light. + + + + +THE NEW COMMANDMENT + + + ‘_Let go the Cross_’—GERTRUDE RUNSHON. + + I heard a strange voice in the distance calling + As from a star an echo might be falling. + + It spoke four syllables, concise and brief, + Charged with a God-sent message of relief: + + _Let go the cross_! Oh, you who cling to sorrow, + Hark to the new command and comfort borrow. + + Even as the Master left His cross below + And rose to Paradise, let go, let go. + + Forget your wrongs, your troubles and your losses, + For with the tools of thought we build our crosses. + + Forget your griefs, all grudges and all fear + And enter Paradise—its gates are near. + + Heaven is a realm by loving souls created, + And hell was fashioned by the hearts that hated. + + Love, hope and trust; believe all joys are yours, + Life pays the soul whose confidence endures, + + The blows of adverse fate, by larger pleasures, + As after storms the soil yields fuller measures. + + Let go the cross; roll self—the stone—away + And dwell with Love in Paradise to-day. + + + + +SUMMER DREAMS + + + When the Summer sun is shining, + And the green things push and grow, + Oft my heart runs over measure, + With its flowing fount of pleasure, + As I feel the sea winds blow; + Ah, then life is good, I know. + + And I think of sweet birds building, + And of children fair and free; + And of glowing sun-kissed meadows, + And of tender twilight shadows, + And of boats upon the sea. + Oh, then life seems good to me! + + Then unbidden and unwanted, + Come the darker, sadder sights; + City shop and stifling alley, + Where misfortune’s children rally; + And the hot crime-breeding nights, + And the dearth of God’s delights. + + And I think of narrow prisons + Where unhappy songbirds dwell, + And of cruel pens and cages + Where some captured wild thing rages + Like a madman in his cell, + In the Zoo, the wild beasts’ hell. + + And I long to lift the burden + Of man’s selfishness and sin; + And to open wide earth’s treasures + Of God’s storehouse, full of pleasures, + For my dumb and human kin, + And to ask the whole world in. + + + + +THE BREAKING OF CHAINS + + + Between the ringing of bells and the musical clang of chimes + I hear a sound like the breaking of chains, all through these + Christmas times. + For the thought of the world is waking out of a slumber deep and long, + And the race is beginning to understand how Right can master Wrong. + + And the eyes of the world are opening wide, and great are the truths + they see; + And the heart of the world is singing a song, and its burden is ‘Be + free!’ + Now the thought of the world and the wish of the world and the song of + the world will make + A force so strong that the fetters forged for a million years must + break. + + Fetters of superstitious fear have bound the race to creeds + That hindered the upward march of man to the larger faith he needs. + Fetters of greed and pride have made the race bow down to kings; + But the pompous creed and the costly throne must yield to simpler + things. + + The thought of the world has climbed above old paths for centuries + trod; + And cloth and crown no longer mean the ‘vested power of God.’ + The race no longer bends beneath the weight of Adam’s sin, + But stands erect and knows itself the Maker’s first of kin. + + And the need of the world and the wish of the world and the song of + the world I hear, + All through the clanging and clashing of bells, this Christmas time o’ + the year; + And I hear a sound like the breaking of chains, and it seems to say to + me, + In the voice of One who spoke of old, ‘The Truth shall make men free.’ + + + + +DECEMBER + + + Upon December’s windy portico + The Old Year stood, and looked out where the sun + Went wading down the West, through drifting clouds. + ‘I, too, shall sink full soon to rest,’ he sighed, + ‘And follow where my children’s feet have trod; + Brave January, beauteous May and June, + My lovely daughters, and my valiant sons, + All, all save one, have left me for that bourne + Men call the Past. It seems but yesterday + I saw fair August, laughing with the Sea, + Snaring the Earth with her seductive wiles, + And making conquest, even of the Sun. + Yet has she gone, and left me here to mourn.’ + Then spake December, from an open door: + ‘Father, the night grows cold; come in and rest. + Sit with me here beside this glowing grate; + I have not left thee; thou art not alone; + My house is thine; all warm with love and light, + And bright with holly and with cedar sweet. + My stalwart arm is thine to lean upon; + The feast is spread, I only wait for thee; + God smiles upon thy dead, smile thou on me.’ + Then through the open door the Old Year passed + And darkness settled on the outer world. + + + + +‘THE WAY’ + + + However certain of the way thou art, + Take not the self-appointed leader’s part. + Follow no man, and by no man be led, + And no man lead. _Awake_, and go ahead. + Thy path, though leading straight unto the goal + Might prove confusing to another soul. + The goal is central; but from east, and west, + And north, and south, we set out on the quest; + From lofty mountains, and from valleys low:— + How could all find one common way to go? + + Lord Buddha to the wilderness was brought. + Lord Jesus to the Cross. And yet, think not + By solitude, or cross, thou canst achieve, + Lest in thine own true Self thou dost believe. + Know thou art One, with life’s Almighty Source, + Then are thy feet set on the certain Course. + + Nor does it matter if thou feast, or fast, + Or what thy creed—or where thy lot is cast; + In halls of pleasure or in crowded mart, + In city streets, or from all men apart— + Thy path leads to the Light; and peace and power + Shall be thy portion, growing hour by hour. + Follow no man, and by no man be led. + And no man lead. But _know_ and go ahead. + + + + +THE LEADER TO BE + + + What shall the leader be in that great day + When we who sleep and dream that we are slaves + Shall wake and know that Liberty is ours? + Mark well that word—not yours, not mine, but ours. + For through the mingling of the separate streams + Of individual protest and desire, + In one united sea of purpose, lies + The course to Freedom. + + When Progression takes + Her undisputed right of way, and sinks + The old traditions and conventions where + They may not rise, what shall the leader be? + + No mighty warrior skilled in crafts of war, + Sowing earth’s fertile furrows with dead men + And staining crimson God’s cerulean sea, + To prove his prowess to a shuddering world. + + Nor yet a monarch with a silly crown + Perched on an empty head, an in-bred heir + To senseless titles and anemic blood. + + No ruler, purchased by the perjured votes + Of striving demagogues whose god is gold. + Not one of these shall lead to Liberty. + The weakness of the world cries out for strength. + The sorrow of the world cries out for hope. + Its suffering cries for kindness. + + He who leads + Must then be strong and hopeful as the dawn + That rises unafraid and full of joy + Above the blackness of the darkest night. + He must be kind to every living thing; + Kind as the Krishna, Buddha and the Christ, + And full of love for all created life. + Oh, not in war shall his great prowess lie, + Nor shall he find his pleasure in the chase. + Too great for slaughter, friend of man and beast, + Touching the borders of the Unseen Realms + And bringing down to earth their mystic fires + To light our troubled pathways, wise and kind + And human to the core, so shall he be, + The coming leader of the coming time. + + + + +THE GREATER LOVE + + + Hear thou my prayer, great God of opulence; + Give me no blessings, save as recompense + For blessings which I lovingly bestow + On needy stranger or on suffering foe. + If Wealth, by chance, should on my path appear, + Let Wisdom and Benevolence stand near, + And Charity within my portal wait, + To guard me from acquaintance intimate. + + Yet in this intricate great art of living + Guide me away from misdirected giving, + And show me how to spur the laggard soul + To strive alone once more to gain the goal. + + Repay my worldly efforts to attain + Only as I develop heart and brain; + Nor brand me with the ‘Dollar Sign’ above + A bosom void of sympathy and love. + + If on the carrying winds my name be blown + To any land or time beyond my own, + Let it not be as one who gained the day + By crowding others from the chosen way; + Rather as one who missed the highest place + Pausing to cheer spent runners in the race. + To do—to have—is lesser than to BE: + The greater boon I ask, dear God, from Thee. + + + + +THANK GOD FOR LIFE + + + Thank God for life, in such an age as this, + Rich with the promises of better things. + Thank God for being part of this great nation’s heart, + Whose strong pulsations are not ruled by kings. + + Our thanks for fearless and protesting speech + When cloven hoofs show ’neath the robes of state. + For us no servile song of ‘Kings can do no wrong.’ + Not royal birth, but worth, makes rulers great. + + Thank God for peace within our border lands, + And for the love of peace within each soul. + Who thinks on peace has wrought, mosaic-squares of thought + In the foundation of our future goal. + + Our thanks for love, and knowledge of love’s laws. + Love is a greater power than vested might. + Love is the central source of all enduring force. + Love is the law that sets the whole world right. + + Our thanks for that increasing torch of light + The tireless hand of science holds abroad. + And may its growing blaze shine on all hidden ways + Till man beholds the silhouette of God. + + + + +TIME ENOUGH + + + I know it is early morning, + And hope is calling aloud, + And your heart is afire with Youth’s desire + To hurry along with the crowd. + But linger a bit by the roadside, + And lend a hand by the way, + ’Tis a curious fact that a generous act + Brings leisure and luck to a day. + + I know it is only the noontime— + There is chance enough to be kind; + But the hours run fast when noon has passed, + And the shadows are close behind. + So think while the light is shining, + And act ere the set of the sun, + For the sorriest woe that a soul can know + Is to think what it might have done. + + I know it is almost evening, + But the twilight hour is long. + If you listen and heed each cry of need + You can right full many a wrong. + For when we have finished the journey + We will all look back and say: + ‘On life’s long mile there was nothing worth while + But the good we did by the way.’ + + + + +NEW YEAR’S DAY + + + When with clanging and with ringing + Comes the year’s initial day, + I can feel the rhythmic swinging + Of the world upon its way; + And though Right still wears a fetter, + And though Justice still is blind, + Time’s beyond is always better + Than the paths he leaves behind. + + In our eons of existence, + As we circle through the night, + We annihilate the distance + ’Twixt the darkness and the light. + From beginnings crude and lowly, + Round and round our souls have trod + Through the circles, winding slowly + Up to knowledge and to God. + + With each century departed + Some old evil found a tomb, + Some old truth was newly started + In propitious soil to bloom. + With each epoch some condition + That has handicapped the race + (Worn-out creed or superstition) + Unto knowledge yields its place. + + Though in folly and in blindness + And in sorrow still we grope, + Yet in man’s increasing kindness + Lies the world’s stupendous hope; + For our darkest hour of errors + Is as radiant as the dawn, + Set beside the awful terrors + Of the ages that have gone. + + And above the sad world’s sobbing, + And the strife of clan with clan, + I can hear the mighty throbbing + Of the heart of God in man; + And a voice chants through the chiming + Of the bells, and seems to say, + We are climbing, we are climbing, + As we circle on our way. + + + + +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 soul 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 as the 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 lead from and must lead back to God. + + + + +IN AN OLD ART GALLERY + + + Before the statue of a giant Hun, + There stood a dwarf, misshapen and uncouth. + His lifted eyes seemed asking: ‘Why, in sooth, + Was I not fashioned like this mighty one? + Would God show favour to an older son + Like earthly kings, and beggar without ruth + Another, who sinned only by his youth? + Why should two lives in such divergence run?’ + + Strange, as he gazed, that from a vanished past + No memories revived of war and strife, + Of misused prowess, and of broken law. + That old Hun’s spirit, in the dwarf re-cast, + Lived out the sequence of an earthly life. + _It was the statue of himself he saw_! + + + + +TRUE BROTHERHOOD + + + God, what a world, if men in street and mart + Felt that same kinship of the human heart + Which makes them, in the face of flame and flood, + Rise to the meaning of true Brotherhood! + + + + +THE DECADENT + + + Among the virile hosts he passed along, + Conspicuous for an undetermined grace + Of sexless beauty. In his form and face + God’s mighty purpose somehow had gone wrong. + Then on his loom, he wove a careful song, + Of sensuous threads; a wordy web of lace + Wherein the primal passions of the race + And his own sins made wonder for the throng. + + A little pen prick opened up a vein, + And gave the finished mesh a crimson blot— + The last consummate touch of studied art. + But those who knew strong passion and keen pain, + Looked through and through the pattern and found not + One single great emotion of the heart. + + + + +LORD, SPEAK AGAIN + + + When God had formed the Universe, He thought + Of all the marvels therein to be wrought + And to His aid then Motherhood was brought. + + ‘My lesser self, the feminine of Me, + She will go forth throughout all time,’ quoth He, + ‘And make My world what I would have it be. + + ‘For I am weary, having laboured so, + And for a cycle of repose would go + Into that silence which but God may know. + + ‘Therefore I leave the rounding of My plan + To Motherhood; and that which I began + Let woman finish in perfecting man. + + ‘She is the soil: the human Mother Earth: + She is the sun, that calls the seed to earth. + She is the gardener, who knows its worth. + + ‘From Me, all seed, of any kind must spring. + Divine the growth such seed and soil will bring. + For all is Me, and I am everything.’ + + Thus having spoken to Himself aloud, + His glorious face upon His breast He bowed, + And sought repose behind a wall of cloud. + + Come forth, O God! though great Thy thought and good, + In shaping woman for true Motherhood, + Lord, speak again; she has not understood. + + The centuries pass: the cycles roll along— + The earth is peopled with a mighty throng, + Yet men are fighting and the world goes wrong. + + Lord, speak again, ere yet it be too late, + Unloved, unwanted souls come through earth’s gate: + The unborn child is given a dower of hate. + + Thy world progresses in all ways save one. + In Motherhood, for which it was begun, + Lord, Lord, behold how little has been done! + + Children are spawned like fishes in the sand. + With ignorance and crime they fill the land. + Lord, speak again, till mothers understand. + + It is not all of Motherhood to know + Conception pleasure or deliverance woe. + Who plants the seed should help the shoot to grow. + + Better a barren soil than weed and tare, + Or sickly plants that die for want of care + In poisonous jungles, void of sun and air. + + True Motherhood is not alone to breed + The human race; it is to know and heed + Its holiest purpose and its highest need. + + Lord, speak again, so woman shall be stirred + With the full meaning of that mighty word + True Motherhood. She has not rightly heard. + + + + +MY HEAVEN + + + Unhoused in deserts of accepted thought, + And lost in jungles of confusing creeds, + My soul strayed, homeless, finding its own needs + Unsatisfied with what tradition taught. + + The pros and cons, the little ifs and ands, + The but and maybe, and the this and that, + On which the churches thicken and grow fat, + I found but structures built on shifting sands. + + And all their heavens were strange and far away, + And all their hells were made of human hate; + And since for death I did not care to wait, + A heaven I fashioned for myself one day. + + Of happy thoughts I built it stone by stone, + With joy of life I draped each spacious room, + With love’s great light I drove away all gloom, + And in the centre I made God a throne. + + And this dear heaven I set within my heart, + And carried it about with me alway, + And then the changing dogmas of the day + Seemed alien to my thoughts and held no part. + + Now as I take my heaven from place to place + I find new rooms by love’s revealing light, + And death will give me but a larger sight + To see my palace spreading into space. + + + + +LIFE + + + On a bleak, bald hill with a dull world under, + The dreary world of the Commonplace, + I have stood when the whole world seemed a blunder + Of dotard Time, in an aimless race. + With worry about me and want before me— + Yet deep in my soul was a rapture spring + That made me cry to the grey sky o’er me: + ‘Oh, I know this life is a goodly thing!’ + + I have given sweet years to a thankless duty + While cold and starving, though clothed and fed, + For a young heart’s hunger for joy and beauty + Is harder to bear than the need of bread. + I have watched the wane of a sodden season, + Which let hope wither, and made care thrive, + And through it all, without earthly reason, + I have thrilled with the glory of being alive. + + And now I stand by the great sea’s splendour, + Where love and beauty feed heart and eye. + The brilliant light of the sun grows tender + As it slants to the shore of the by and by. + I prize each hour as a golden treasure— + A pearl Time drops from a broken string: + And all my ways are the ways of pleasure, + And I know this life is a goodly thing. + + And I know, too, that not in the seeing, + Or having, or doing the things we would, + Lies that deep rapture that comes from being + _At one with the Purpose which made all good_. + And not from Pleasure the heart may borrow + That rare contentment for which we strive, + Unless through trouble, and want, and sorrow + It has thrilled with the glory of being alive. + + + + +GOD’S KIN + + + There is no summit you may not attain, + No purpose which you may not yet achieve, + If you will wait serenely and believe + Each seeming loss is but a step toward gain. + + Between the mountain-tops lie vale and plain; + Let nothing make you question, doubt or grieve; + Give only good, and good alone receive; + And as you welcome joy, so welcome pain. + + That which you most desire awaits your word; + Throw wide the door and bid it enter in. + Speak, and the strong vibrations shall be stirred; + Speak, and above earth’s loud, unmeaning din + Your silent declarations shall be heard. + All things are possible to God’s own kin. + + + + +CONQUEST + + + Talk not of strength, until your heart has known + And fought with weakness through long hours alone. + + Talk not of virtue, till your conquering soul + Has met temptation and gained full control. + + Boast not of garments, all unscorched by sin, + Till you have passed, unscathed, through fires within. + + Oh, poor that pride the unscarred soldier shows, + Who safe in camp, has never faced his foes. + + + + +THE STATUE + + + A granite rock in the mountain side + Gazed on the world and was satisfied. + It watched the centuries come and go. + It welcomed the sunlight, yet loved the snow. + It grieved when the forest was forced to fall, + Yet joyed when steeples rose, white and tall, + In the valley below it, and thrilled to hear + The voice of the great town roaring near. + + When the mountain stream from its idle play + Was caught by the mill wheel and borne away + And trained to labour, the grey rock mused + ‘Trees and verdure and stream are used + By Man the Master; but I remain + Friend of the mountain, and star, and plain, + Unchanged forever by God’s decree, + While passing centuries bow to me.’ + + Then all unwarned, with a mighty shock + Out of the mountain was wrenched the rock. + Bruised and battered and broken in heart, + It was carried away to the common mart, + Wrecked and ruined in piece and pride. + ‘Oh, God is cruel,’ the granite cried, + ‘Comrade of mountains, of stars the friend, + By all deserted, how sad my end.’ + + A dreaming sculptor in passing by + Gazed at the granite with thoughtful eye. + Then stirred with a purpose supremely grand + He bade his dream in the rock expand. + And lo! from the broken and shapeless mass + That grieved and doubted, it came to pass + That a glorious statue of priceless worth + And infinite beauty, adorned the earth. + + + + +SIRIUS + + + ‘_Since Sinus crossed the Milky Way_, _sixty thousand years have + gone_.’—GARRETT P. SERVISS. + + Since Sirius crossed the Milky Way + Full sixty thousand years have gone, + Yet hour by hour, and day by day, + This tireless star speeds on and on. + + Methinks he must be moved to mirth + By that droll tale of Genesis, + Which says creation had its birth + For such a puny world as this. + + To hear how One who fashioned all + Those Solar Systems, tier on tiers, + Expressed in little Adam’s fall + The purpose of a million spheres. + + And, witness of the endless plan, + To splendid wrath he must be wrought + By pigmy creeds presumptuous man + Sends forth as God’s primeval thought. + + Perchance from half a hundred stars + He hears as many curious things; + From Venus, Jupiter and Mars, + And Saturn with the beauteous rings, + + There may be students of the Cause + Who send their revelations out, + And formulate their codes of laws, + With heavens for faith and hells for doubt. + + On planets old ere form or place + Was lent to earth, may dwell—who knows— + A God-like and perfected race + That hails great Sirius as he goes. + + In zones that circle moon and sun, + ’Twixt world and world, he may see souls + Whose span of earthly life is done, + Still journeying up to higher goals. + + And on dead planets grey and cold + Grim spectral souls, that harboured hate + Life after life, he may behold + Descending to a darker fate. + + And on his grand majestic course + He may have caught one glorious sight + Of that vast shining central Source + From which proceeds all Life, all Light. + + Since Sirius crossed the Milky Way + Full sixty thousand years have gone, + No mortal man may bid him stay, + No mortal man may speed him on. + + No mortal mind may comprehend + What is beyond, what was before; + To God be glory without end, + Let man be humble and adore. + + + + +AT FONTAINEBLEAU + + + At Fontainebleau, I saw a little bed + Fashioned of polished wood, with gold ornate, + Ambition, hope, and sorrow, ay, and hate + Once battled there, above a childish head, + And there in vain, grief wept, and memory plead + It was so small! but Ah, dear God, how great + The part it played in one sad woman’s fate. + How wide the gloom, that narrow object shed. + + The symbol of an over-reaching aim, + The emblem of a devastated joy, + It spoke of glory, and a blasted home: + Of fleeting honours, and disordered fame, + And the lone passing of a fragile boy. + + * * * * * + + It was the cradle of the King of Rome. + + + + +THE MASQUERADE + + + Look in the eyes of trouble with a smile, + Extend your hand and do not be afraid. + ’Tis but a friend who comes to masquerade. + And test your faith and courage for awhile. + + Fly, and he follows fast with threat and jeer. + Shrink, and he deals hard blow on stinging blow, + But bid him welcome as a friend, and lo! + The jest is off—the masque will disappear. + + + + +SYMPATHY + + + Is the way hard and thorny, oh, my brother? + Do tempests beat, and adverse wild winds blow? + And are you spent, and broken, at each nightfall, + Yet with each morn you rise and onward go? + Brother, I know, I know! + I, too, have journeyed so. + + Is your heart mad with longing, oh, my sister? + Are all great passions in your breast aglow? + Does the white wonder of your own soul blind you, + And are you torn with rapture and with woe? + Sister, I know, I know! + I, too, have suffered so. + + Is the road filled with snare and quicksand, pilgrim? + Do pitfalls lie where roses seem to grow? + And have you sometimes stumbled in the darkness, + And are you bruised and scarred by many a blow? + Pilgrim, I know, I know! + I, too, have stumbled so. + + Do you send out rebellious cry and question, + As mocking hours pass silently and slow, + Does your insistent ‘wherefore’ bring no answer, + While stars wax pale with watching, and droop low? + I, too, have questioned so, + But now _I know_, _I know_! + To toil, to strive, to err, to cry, to grow, + _To love through_ all—this is the way to _know_. + + + + +INTERMEDIARY + + + When from the prison of its body free, + My soul shall soar, before it goes to Thee, + Thou great Creator, give it power to know + The language of all sad, dumb things below. + And let me dwell a season still on earth + Before I rise to some diviner birth: + Invisible to men, yet seen and heard, + And understood by sorrowing beast and bird— + Invisible to men, yet always near, + To whisper counsel in the human ear: + And with a spell to stay the hunter’s hand + And stir his heart to know and understand; + To plant within the dull or thoughtless mind + The great religious impulse to be kind. + + Before I prune my spirit wings and rise + To seek my loved ones in their paradise, + Yea! even before I hasten on to see + That lost child’s face, so like a dream to me, + I would be given this intermediate role, + And carry comfort to each poor, dumb soul: + And bridge man’s gulf of cruelty and sin + By understanding of his lower kin. + ’Twixt weary driver and the straining steed + On wings of mercy would my spirit speed. + And each should know, before his journey’s end, + That in the other dwelt a loving friend. + From zoo and jungle, and from cage and stall, + I would translate each inarticulate call, + Each pleading look, each frenzied act and cry, + And tell the story to each passer-by; + And of a spirit’s privilege possessed, + Pursue indifference to its couch of rest, + And whisper in its ear until in awe + It woke and knew God’s all-embracing law + Of Universal Life—the One in All. + + * * * * * + + Lord, let this mission to my lot befall. + + + + +LIFE’S CAR + + + ‘Hurry up!’ + No lingering by old doors of doubt— + No loitering by the way, + No waiting a To-morrow car, + When you can board To-day. + Success is somewhere down the track; + Before the chance is gone + Accelerate your laggard pace, + Swing on, I say, swing on— + Hurry up! + + ‘Step lively!’ + Belated souls are following fast, + They shout and signal, ‘Wait.’ + Conductor Time brooks no delay, + He rings the bell of Fate. + But you can give the man behind, + With one hand on the bar, + A final chance to brook defeat, + And board the moving car. + Step lively! + + ‘Move up!’ + Make way for others as you sit + Or stand. This crowded earth + Has room for every journeying soul + En route to higher birth. + Ay, room and comfort, if no one + Took double share or space, + Nor let his greed and selfishness + Absorb another’s place. + Move up! + + ‘Hold fast!’ + The jolting switch of obstacles + With jarring rails is near. + Stand firm of foot, be strong of grip, + Brace well and have no fear. + The Maker of the Car of Life + Foresaw that curve—Despair, + And hung the straps of faith, and hope + So you might grasp them there. + Hold fast! + + + + +OPPORTUNITY + + + Send forth your heart’s desire, and work and wait; + The opportunities of life are brought + To our own doors, not by capricious fate, + But by the strong compelling force of thought. + + + + +THE AGE OF MOTORED THINGS + + + The wonderful age of the world I sing— + The age of battery, coil and spring, + Of steam, and storage, and motored thing. + + Though faith may slumber and art seem dead, + And all that is spoken has once been said, + And all that is written were best unread; + + Though hearts are iron and thoughts are steel, + And all that has value is mercantile, + Yet marvellous truths shall the age reveal. + + Ay, greater the marvels this age shall find + Than all the centuries left behind, + When faith was a bigot and art was blind. + + Oh, sorry the search of the world for gods, + Through faith that slaughters and art that lauds, + While reason sits on its throne and nods. + + But out of the leisure that men will know, + When the cruel things of the sad earth go, + A Faith that is Knowledge shall rise and grow. + + In the throb and whir of each new machine + Thinner is growing the veil between + The visible earth and the worlds unseen. + + The True Religion shall leisure bring; + And Art shall awaken and Love shall sing: + Oh, ho! for the age of the motored thing! + + + + +NEW YEAR + + +MORTAL: + + ‘The night is cold, the hour is late, the world is bleak and drear; + Who is it knocking at my door?’ + +THE NEW YEAR: + + ‘I am Good Cheer.’ + +MORTAL: + + ‘Your voice is strange; I know you not; in shadows dark I grope. + What seek you here?’ + +THE NEW YEAR: + + ‘Friend, let me in; my name is Hope.’ + +MORTAL: + + ‘And mine is Failure; you but mock the life you seek to bless. + Pass on.’ + +THE NEW YEAR: + + ‘Nay, open wide the door; I am Success.’ + +MORTAL: + + ‘But I am ill and spent with pain; too late has come your wealth. + I cannot use it.’ + +THE NEW YEAR: + + ‘Listen, friend; I am Good Health.’ + +MORTAL: + + ‘Now, wide I fling my door. Come in, and your fair statements + prove.’ + +THE NEW YEAR: + + ‘But you must open, too, your heart, for I am Love.’ + + + + +DISARMAMENT + + + We have outgrown the helmet and cuirass, + The spear, the arrow, and the javelin. + These crude inventions of a cruder age, + When men killed men to show their love of God, + And he who slaughtered most was greatest king. + We have outgrown the need of war! + Should men + Unite in this one thought, all war would end. + + Disarm the world; and let all Nations meet + Like Men, not monsters, when disputes arise. + When crossed opinions tangle into snarls, + Let Courts untie them, and not armies cut. + When State discussions breed dissensions, let + Union and Arbitration supersede + The hell-created implements of War. + Disarm the world! and bid destructive thought + Slip like a serpent from the mortal mind + Down through the marshes of oblivion. Soon + A race of gods shall rise! Disarm! Disarm! + + + + +THE CALL + + + All wantonly in hours of joy, + I made a song of pain. + Soon Grief drew near, and paused to hear, + And sang the sad refrain, + Again and yet again. + + Then recklessly in my despair, + I sang of hope one day. + And Joy turned back upon life’s track, + And smiled, and came my way, + And sat her down to stay. + + + + +A LITTLE SONG + + + Oh, a great world, a fair world, a true world I find it; + A sun that never forgets to rise, + On the darkest night, a star in the skies, + And a God of love behind it. + + Oh, a good life, a sweet life, a large life I take it, + Is what He offers to you, and me; + A chance to do, and a chance to be, + Whatever we chose to make it. + + Oh, a far way, a high way, a sure way He leads us; + And if the journey at times seems long, + We must trudge ahead, with a trustful song, + And know at the end He needs us. + + + + + + NEW THOUGHT PASTELS + + +A DIALOGUE + + + MORTAL + + The world is full of selfishness and greed. + Lord, I would lave its sin. + + SPIRIT + + Yea, mortal, earth of thy good help has need. + Go cleanse _thyself_ within. + + MORTAL + + Mine ear is hurt by harsh and evil speech. + I would reform men’s ways. + + SPIRIT + + There is but one convincing way to teach. + Speak _thou_ but words of praise. + + MORTAL + + On every hand is wretchedness and grief, + Despondency and fear. + Lord, I would give my fellow men relief. + + SPIRIT + + Be, then, all hope, all cheer. + + MORTAL + + Lord, I look outward and grow sick at heart, + Such need of change I see. + + SPIRIT + + Mortal, look _in_. Do thy allotted part, + And leave the rest to ME. + + + + +THE WEED + + + A weed is but an unloved flower! + Go dig, and prune, and guide, and wait, + Until it learns its high estate, + And glorifies some bower. + A weed is but an unloved flower! + + All sin is virtue unevolved, + Release the angel from the clod— + Go love thy brother up to God. + Behold each problem solved. + All sin is virtue unevolved. + + + + +STRENGTH + + + Who is the strong? Not he who puts to test + His sinews with the strong and proves the best; + But he who dwells where weaklings congregate, + And never lets his splendid strength abate. + + Who is the good? Not he who walks each day + With moral men along the high, clean way; + But he who jostles gilded sin and shame, + Yet will not sell his honour or his name. + + Who is the wise? Not he who from the start + With Wisdom’s followers has taken part; + But he who looks in Folly’s tempting eyes, + And turns away, perceiving her disguise. + + Who is serene? Not he who flees his kind, + Some mountain fastness, or some cave to find; + But he who in the city’s noisiest scene, + Keeps calm within—he only is serene. + + + + +AFFIRM + + + Body and mind, and spirit, all combine + To make the Creature, human and divine. + + Of this great trinity no part deny. + Affirm, affirm, the Great Eternal I. + + Affirm the body, beautiful and whole, + The earth-expression of immortal soul. + + Affirm the mind, the messenger of the hour, + To speed between thee and the source of power. + + Affirm the spirit, the Eternal I— + Of this great trinity no part deny. + + + + +THE CHOSEN + + + They stood before the Angel at the gate; + The Angel asked: ‘Why should you enter in?’ + One said: ‘On earth my place was high and great;’ + And one: ‘I warned my fellow-men from sin;’ + Another: ‘I was teacher of the faith; + I scorned my life and lived in love with death.’ + + And one stood silent. ‘Speak!’ the Angel said; + ‘What earthly deed has sent you here to-day?’ + ‘Alas! I did but follow where they led,’ + He answered sadly: ‘I had lost my way— + So new the country, and so strange my flight; + I only sought for guidance and for light.’ + + ‘You have no passport?’ ‘None,’ the answer came. + ‘I loved the earth, tho’ lowly was my lot. + I strove to keep my record free from blame, + And make a heaven about my humble spot. + A narrow life; I see it now, too late; + So, Angel, drive me from the heavenly gate.’ + + The Angel swung the portal wide and free, + And took the sorrowing stranger by the hand. + ‘Nay, you alone,’ he said, ‘shall come with me, + Of all this waiting and insistent band. + Of what God gave, you built your paradise; + Behold your mansion waiting in the skies.’ + + + + +THE NAMELESS + + + Unnumbered gods may unremembered die; + A thousand creeds may perish and pass by; + Yet do I lift mine eyes to ONE on high. + + Unnamed be HE from whom creation came; + There is no word whereby to speak His name + But petty men have mouthed it into shame. + + I lift mine eyes, and with a river’s force + My love’s full tide goes sweeping on its course + To that supreme and all-embracing Source. + + Then back through all those thirsting channels roll + The mighty billows of the Over Soul. + And I am He, the portion and the Whole. + + As little streams before the flood-tide flee, + As rivers vanish to become the sea, + The I exists no more, for I AM HE. + + + + +THE WORD + + + Oh, a word is a gem, or a stone, or a song, + Or a flame, or a two-edged sword; + Or a rose in bloom, or a sweet perfume, + Or a drop of gall, is a word. + + You may choose your word like a connoisseur, + And polish it up with art, + But the word that sways, and stirs, and stays, + Is the word that comes from the heart. + + You may work on your word a thousand weeks, + But it will not glow like one + That all unsought, leaps forth white hot, + When the fountains of feeling run. + + You may hammer away on the anvil of thought, + And fashion your word with care, + But unless you are stirred to the depths, that word + Shall die on the empty air. + + For the word that comes from the brain alone, + Alone to the brain will speed; + But the word that sways, and stirs, and stays, + Oh! that is the word men heed. + + + + +ASSISTANCE + + + Lean on no mortal, Love, and serve; + (For service is love’s complement) + But it was never God’s intent, + Your spirit from its path should swerve, + To gain another’s point of view. + As well might Jupiter, or Mars + Go seeking help from other stars, + Instead of sweeping ON, as you. + Look to the Great Eternal Cause + And not to any man, for light. + Look in; and learn the wrong, and right, + From your own soul’s unwritten laws. + And when you question, or demur, + Let Love be your Interpreter. + + + + +‘CREDULITY’ + + + If fallacies come knocking at my door, + I’d rather feed, and shelter full a score, + Than hide behind the black portcullis, doubt, + And run the risk of barring one Truth out. + + And if pretension for a time deceive, + And prove me one too ready to believe, + Far less my shame, than if by stubborn act, + I brand as lie, some great colossal Fact. + + On my soul’s door, the latch-string hangs outside; + Within, the lighted candle. Let me guide + Some errant follies, on their wandering way, + Rather, than Wisdom give no welcoming ray. + + + + +CONSCIOUSNESS + + + God, what a glory, is this consciousness, + Of life on life, that comes to those who seek! + Nor would I, if I might, to others speak, + The fulness of that knowledge. It can bless, + Only the eager souls, that willing, press + Along the mountain passes, to the peak. + Not to the dull, the doubting, or the weak, + Will Truth explain, or Mystery confess. + + Not to the curious or impatient soul + That in the start, demands the end be shown, + And at each step, stops waiting for a sign; + But to the tireless toiler toward the goal, + Shall the great miracles of God be known + And life revealed, immortal and divine. + + + + +THE STRUCTURE + + + Upon the wreckage of thy yesterday + Design the structure of to-morrow. Lay + Strong corner stones of purpose, and prepare + Great blocks of wisdom, cut from past despair. + Shape mighty pillars of resolve, to set + Deep in the tear-wet mortar of regret. + Work on with patience. Though thy toil be slow, + Yet day by day the edifice shall grow. + Believe in God—in thine own self believe. + All that thou hast desired thou shalt achieve. + + + + +OUR SOULS + + + Our souls should be vessels receiving + The waters of love for relieving + The sorrows of men. + + For here lies the pleasure of living: + In taking God’s bounties, and giving + The gifts back again. + + + + +THE LAW + + + When the great universe was wrought + To might and majesty from naught, + The all creative force was— + _Thought_. + + That force is thine. Though desolate + The way may seem, command thy fate. + Send forth thy thought— + Create—_Create_! + + + + +KNOWLEDGE + + + Would you believe in Presences Unseen— + In life beyond this earthly life? + BE STILL: Be stiller yet; and listen. Set the screen + Of silence at the portal of your will. + Relax, and let the world go by unheard. + And seal your lips with some all-sacred word. + + Breathe ‘God,’ in any tongue—it means the same; + LOVE ABSOLUTE: Think, feel, absorb the thought; + Shut out all else; until a subtle flame + (A spark from God’s creative centre caught) + Shall permeate your being, and shall glow, + Increasing in its splendour, till, YOU KNOW. + + Not in a moment, or an hour, or day + The knowledge comes; the power is far too great, + To win in any desultory way. + No soul is worthy till it learns to wait. + Day after day be patient, then, oh, soul; + Month after month—till, lo! the goal! the goal! + + + + +GIVE + + + Give, and thou shalt receive. Give thoughts of cheer, + Of courage and success, to friend and stranger. + And from a thousand sources, far and near, + Strength will be sent thee in thy hour of danger. + + Give words of comfort, of defence, and hope, + To mortals crushed by sorrow and by error. + And though thy feet through shadowy paths may grope, + Thou shalt not walk in loneliness or terror. + + Give of thy gold, though small thy portion be. + Gold rusts and shrivels in the hand that keeps it. + It grows in one that opens wide and free. + Who sows his harvest is the one who reaps it. + + Give of thy love, nor wait to know the worth + Of what thou lovest; and ask no returning. + And wheresoe’er thy pathway leads on earth, + There thou shalt find the lamp of love-light burning. + + + + +PERFECTION + + + The leaf that ripens only in the sun + Is dull and shrivelled ere its race is run. + The leaf that makes a carnival of death + Must tremble first before the north wind’s breath. + + The life that neither grief nor burden knows + Is dwarfed in sympathy before its close. + The life that grows majestic with the years + Must taste the bitter tonic found in tears. + + + + +FEAR + + + Fear is the twin of Faith’s sworn foe, Distrust. + If one breaks in your heart the other must. + + Fear is the open enemy of Good. + It means the God in man misunderstood. + + Who walks with Fear adown life’s road will meet + His boon companions, Failure and Defeat. + + But look the bully boldly in the eyes, + With mien undaunted, and he turns and flies. + + + + +THE WAY + + + Between the finite and the infinite + The missing link of Love has left a void. + Supply the link, and earth with Heaven will join + In one continued chain of endless life. + + Hell is wherever Love is not, and Heaven + Is Love’s location. No dogmatic creed, + No austere faith based on ignoble fear + Can lead thee into realms of joy and peace. + Unless the humblest creatures on the earth + Are bettered by thy loving sympathy + Think not to find a Paradise beyond. + + There is no sudden entrance into Heaven. + Slow is the ascent by the path of Love. + + + + +UNDERSTOOD + + + I value more than I despise + My tendency to sin, + Because it helps me sympathise + With all my tempted kin. + + He who has nothing in his soul + That links him to the sod, + Knows not that joy of self-control + Which lifts him up to God. + + And I am glad my heart can say, + When others trip and fall + (Although I safely passed that way), + ‘I understand it all.’ + + + + +HIS MANSION + + + There was a thought he hid from all men’s eyes, + And by his prudent life and deeds of worth + He left a goodly record upon earth + As one both pure and wise. + + But when he reached a dark unsightly door + Beyond the grave, there stood his secret thought. + It was the mansion he had built and brought + To dwell in, on that shore. + + + + +EFFECT + + + An unkind tale was whispered in his ear. + He paused to hear. + His thoughts were food that helped a falsehood thrive, + And keep alive. + + Years dawned and died. One day by venom’s tongue + His name was stung. + He cried aloud, nor dreamed the lie was spawn + Of thoughts long gone. + + Each mental wave we send out from the mind, + Or base, or kind, + Completes its circuit, then with added force + Seeks its own source. + + + + +THREE THINGS + + + Know this, ye restless denizens of earth, + Know this, ye seekers after joy and mirth, + Three things there are, eternal in their worth. + + Love, that outreaches to the humblest things; + Work that is glad, in what it does and brings; + And faith that soars upon unwearied wings. + + Divine the Powers that on this trio wait. + Supreme their conquest, over Time and Fate. + Love, Work, and Faith—these three alone are great. + + + + +OBSTACLES + + + ‘The slothful man saith, There is a lion in the way; a lion is in the + street.’—PROVERBS xxvi. 13. + + There are no lions in the street; + No lions in the way. + Go seek the goal, thou slothful soul, + Awake, awake, I say. + + Thou dost but dream of obstacles; + In God’s great lexicon, + That word illstarred, no page has marred; + Press on, I say, press on. + + Nothing can keep thee from thine own + But thine own slothful mind. + To one who knocks, each door unlocks; + And he who seeks, shall find. + + + + +PRAYER + + + Lean on thyself until thy strength is tried; + Then ask God’s help; it will not be denied. + + Use thine own sight to see the way to go; + When darkness falls ask God the path to show. + + Think for thyself and reason out thy plan; + God has His work and thou hast thine, oh, man. + + Exert thy will and use it for control; + God gave thee jurisdiction of thy soul. + + All thine immortal powers bring into play; + Think, act, strive, reason, then look up and pray. + + + + +CLIMBING + + + Who climbs the mountain does not always climb. + The winding road slants downward many a time; + Yet each descent is higher than the last. + Has thy path fallen? That will soon be past. + Beyond the curve the way leads up and on. + Think not thy goal forever lost or gone. + Keep moving forward; if thine aim is right + Thou canst not miss the shining mountain height. + Who would attain to summits still and fair, + Must nerve himself through valleys of despair. + + + + +‘THERE IS NO DEATH, THERE ARE NO DEAD’ + + + (_Suggested by the book of Mr. Ed. C. Randall_.) + + ‘There is no death, there are no dead.’ + From zone to zone, from sphere to sphere, + The souls of all who pass from here + By hosts of living thoughts are led; + And dark or bright, those souls must tread + The paths they fashioned year on year. + For hells are built of hate or fear, + And heavens of love our lives have shed. + + Across unatlassed worlds of space, + And through God’s mighty universe, + With thoughts that bless or thoughts that curse, + Each journeys to his rightful place. + Oh, greater truth no man has said, + ‘There is no death, there are no dead.’ + + It lifts the mourner from the sod, + And bids him cast away the reed + Of some uncomforting poor creed, + And walk with Knowledge for a rod. + It bids the doubter seek the broad + Vast fields, where living facts will feed + All those whose patience proves their need + Of these immortal truths of God. + + It brings before the eyes of faith + Those realms of radiance, tier on tier, + Where our beloved ‘dead’ appear, + More beautiful because of ‘death.’ + It speaks to grief: ‘Be comforted; + There is no death, there are no dead.’ + + + + +REALISATION + + + Hers was a lonely, shadowed lot; + Or so the unperceiving thought, + Who looked no deeper than her face, + Devoid of chiselled lines of grace— + No farther than her humble grate, + And wondered how she bore her fate. + + Yet she was neither lone nor sad; + So much of love her spirit had, + She found an ever-flowing spring + Of happiness in everything. + + So near to her was Nature’s heart + It seemed a very living part + Of her own self; and bud and blade, + And heat and cold, and sun and shade, + And dawn and sunset, Spring and Fall, + Held raptures for her, one and all. + + The year’s four changing seasons brought + To her own door what thousands sought + In wandering ways and did not find— + Diversion and content of mind. + + She loved the tasks that filled each day— + Such menial duties; but her way + Of looking at them lent a grace + To things the world deemed commonplace. + + Obscure and without place or name, + She gloried in another’s fame. + Poor, plain and humble in her dress, + She thrilled when beauty and success + And wealth passed by, on pleasure bent; + They made earth seem so opulent. + Yet none of quicker sympathy, + When need or sorrow came, than she. + And so she lived, and so she died. + + She woke as from a dream. How wide + And wonderful the avenue + That stretched to her astonished view! + And up the green ascending lawn + A palace caught the rays of dawn. + + Then suddenly the silence stirred + With one clear keynote of a bird; + A thousand answered, till ere long + The air was quivering bits of song. + She rose and wandered forth in awe, + Amazed and moved by all she saw, + For, like so many souls who go + Away from earth, she did not know + The cord was severed. + + Down the street, + With eager arms stretched forth to greet, + Came one she loved and mourned in youth; + Her mother followed; then the truth + Broke on her, golden wave on wave, + Of knowledge infinite. The grave, + The body and the earthly sphere + Were gone! Immortal life was here! + They led her through the Palace halls; + From gleaming mirrors on the walls + She saw herself, with radiant mien, + And robed in splendour like a queen, + While glory round about her shone. + ‘All this,’ Love murmured, ‘is your own.’ + + And when she gazed with wondering eye, + And questioned whence and where and why, + Love answered thus: ‘All Heaven is made + By thoughts on earth; your walls were laid, + Year after year, of purest gold; + The beauty of your mind behold + In this fair palace; ay, and more + Waits farther on, so vast your store. + I was not worthy when I died + To take my place here at your side; + I toiled through long and weary years + From lower planes to these high spheres; + And through the love you sent from earth + I have attained a second birth. + Oft when my erring soul would tire + I felt the strength of your desire; + I heard you breathe my name in prayer, + And courage conquered weak despair. + Ah! earth needs heaven, but heaven indeed + Of earth has just as great a need.’ + + Across the terrace with a bound + There sped a lambkin and a hound + (Dumb comrades of the old earth land) + And fondled her caressing hand. + + ‘YOU LOVED THEM INTO PARADISE’ + Was answered to her questioning eyes; + ‘You taught them love; love has no end! + Nor does love’s life on form depend. + If there be mortal without love, + He wakes to no new life above. + If love in humbler things exist, + It must through other realms persist + Until all love rays merge in HIM. + Hark! Hear the heavenly Cherubim!’ + + Then hushed and awed, with joy so vast + It knew no future and no past, + She stood amidst the radiant throng + That came to swell love’s welcoming song— + This humble soul from earth’s far coast + The centre of the heavenly host. + + On earth they see her grave and say: + ‘She lies there till the judgment day;’ + Nor dream, so limited their thought, + What miracles by love are wrought. + + * * * * * + + * * * * * + + Printed by T. and A. 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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 www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: Poems of Progress and New Thought Pastels + + +Author: Ella Wheeler Wilcox + + + +Release Date: July 27, 2014 [eBook #3228] +[This file was first posted on February 2, 2001] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS OF PROGRESS AND NEW THOUGHT +PASTELS*** +</pre> +<p>Transcribed from the 1913 Gay and Hancock edition by David +Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<h1>POEMS OF PROGRESS<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">AND</span><br /> +NEW THOUGHT PASTELS</h1> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">BY</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center">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.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">12 AND 13 +HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center">LONDON</p> +<p style="text-align: center">1913</p> +<p style="text-align: center">[<i>All rights reserved</i>]</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><a name="pageiv"></a><span class="pagenum">p. iv</span><span +class="smcap">Any</span> edition of my poems published in England +by any firm except Messrs. Gay and Hancock is pirated and not +authentic.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.</p> +<p><i>April</i> 12, 1910.</p> +<h2><a name="pagev"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +v</span>PREFACE<br /> +LOVE’S LANGUAGE</h2> +<p class="poetry">When silence flees before the voice of Love,<br +/> +Of what expression does that god approve?<br /> +Is dulcet song or flowing verse his choice,<br /> +Or stately prose, made regal by his voice?<br /> +Speaks Love in couplets, or in epics grand?<br /> +And is Love humble, or does he command?</p> +<p class="poetry">There is no language that Love does not +speak:<br /> +To-day commanding and to-morrow meek,<br /> +One hour laconic and the next verbose,<br /> +With hope triumphant and with doubt morose,<br /> +His varying moods all forms of speech employ.<br /> +To give expression to his painful joy,</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="pagevi"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +vi</span>To voice the phases of his joyful pain,<br /> +He rings the changes on the poet’s strain.<br /> +Yet not in epic, epigram or verse<br /> +Can Love the passion of his heart rehearse.<br /> +All speech, all language, is inadequate,<br /> +There are no words with Love commensurate.</p> +<h2><a name="pagevii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +vii</span>CONTENTS</h2> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="GutSmall">PAGE</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Preface</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#pagev">v</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Land Between</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page1">1</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Love’s Mirage</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page3">3</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Need of the World</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page4">4</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Gulf Stream</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page7">7</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Remembered</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page8">8</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Helen of Troy</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page9">9</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Lais when Young</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Lais when Old</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page12">12</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Existence</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page13">13</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Holiday Songs</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page15">15</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Astrolabius</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page18">18</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Completion</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page21">21</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Sleep’s Treachery</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page24">24</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Art versus Cupid</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page25">25</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><a name="pageviii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +viii</span>The Revolt of Vashti</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page33">33</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Choosing of Esther</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page37">37</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Honeymoon Scene</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page42">42</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Cost</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page49">49</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Voice</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page52">52</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>God’s Answer</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page55">55</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Edict of the Sex</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page56">56</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The World-child</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page59">59</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Heights</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page61">61</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>On seeing ‘The House of Julia’ at +Herculaneum</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page63">63</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>A Prayer</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page64">64</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>What is Right Living?</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page66">66</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Justice</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page67">67</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Time’s Gaze</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page68">68</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Worker and the Work</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page70">70</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Art thou Alive?</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page72">72</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>To-day</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page74">74</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Ladder</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page76">76</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Who is a Christian?</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page78">78</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Goal</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page80">80</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Spur</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page82">82</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><a name="pageix"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +ix</span>Awakened!</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page84">84</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Shadows</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page86">86</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The New Commandment</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page88">88</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Summer Dreams</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page90">90</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Breaking of Chains</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page92">92</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>December</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page94">94</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>‘The Way’</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page96">96</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Leader to be</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page98">98</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Greater Love</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page100">100</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Thank God for Life</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page102">102</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Time Enough</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page104">104</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>New Year’s Day</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page106">106</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Life is a Privilege</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page108">108</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>In an Old Art Gallery</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page110">110</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>True Brotherhood</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page111">111</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Decadent</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page112">112</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Lord, speak again</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page113">113</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>My Heaven</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page116">116</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Life</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page118">118</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>God’s Kin</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page120">120</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Conquest</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page121">121</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Statue</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page122">122</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Sirius</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page124">124</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>At Fontainebleau</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page128">128</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Masquerade</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page129">129</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Sympathy</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page131">131</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Intermediary</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page133">133</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Life’s Car</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page135">135</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Opportunity</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page135">135</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Age of Motored Things</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page136">136</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>New Year</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page136">136</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Disarmament</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page140">140</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Call</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page141">141</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>A Little Song</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page142">142</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">NEW THOUGHT +PASTELS</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>A Dialogue</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page145">145</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Weed</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page147">147</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Strength</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page148">148</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Affirm</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page149">149</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Chosen</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page150">150</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Nameless</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page152">152</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Word</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page153">153</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Assistance</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page155">155</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>‘Credulity’</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page156">156</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Consciousness</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page157">157</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Structure</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page158">158</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Our Souls</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page159">159</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Law</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page160">160</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Knowledge</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page161">161</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Give</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page163">163</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Perfection</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page164">164</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Fear</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page165">165</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Way</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page166">166</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Understood</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page167">167</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>His Mansion</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page168">168</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Effect</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page169">169</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Three Things</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page170">170</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Obstacles</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page171">171</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Prayer</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page172">172</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Climbing</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page173">173</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>‘There is no Death, There are no Dead’</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page174">174</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Realisation</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page176">176</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<h2><a name="page1"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 1</span>THE LAND +BETWEEN</h2> +<p class="poetry">Between the little Here and larger Yonder,<br +/> + There is a realm (or so one day I read)<br /> +Where faithful spirits love-enchained may wander,<br /> + Till some remembering soul from earth has fled.<br +/> +Then, reunited, they go forth afar,<br /> +From sphere to sphere, where wondrous angels are.</p> +<p class="poetry">Not many spirits in that realm are waiting;<br +/> + Not many pause upon its shores to rest;<br /> +For only love, intense and unabating,<br /> + Can hold them from the longer, higher quest.<br /> +And after grief has wept itself to sleep,<br /> +Few hearts on earth their vital memories keep.</p> +<p class="poetry">Should I pass on, across the mystic border,<br +/> + Let thy love link me to that pallid land;<br /> +I would not seek the heavens of finer order<br /> + Until thy barque had left this coarser strand.<br /> +<a name="page2"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 2</span>How desolate +such journeyings would be,<br /> +Though straight to Him, were they not shared by thee.</p> +<p class="poetry">Wert thou first called (dear God, how could I +bear it?)<br /> + I should enchain thee with my love, I know.<br /> +Not great enough am I to free thy spirit<br /> + From all these tender ties, and bid thee go.<br /> +Nor would a soul, unselfish as thine own,<br /> +Forget so soon, and speed to heaven alone.</p> +<p class="poetry">On earth we find no joy in ways diverging;<br +/> + How could we find it in the worlds unseen?<br /> +I know old memories from my bosom surging,<br /> + Would keep thee waiting in that Land Between,<br /> +Until together, side by side, we trod<br /> +A path of stars, in our great search for God.</p> +<h2><a name="page3"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +3</span>LOVE’S MIRAGE</h2> +<p class="poetry">Midway upon the route, he paused athirst<br /> + And suddenly across the wastes of heat,<br /> + He saw cool waters gleaming, and a sweet<br /> +Green oasis upon his vision burst.<br /> +A tender dream, long in his bosom nursed,<br /> + Spread love’s illusive verdure for his +feet;<br /> + The barren sands changed into golden wheat;<br /> +The way grew glad that late had seemed accursed.</p> +<p class="poetry">She shone, the woman wonder, on his soul;<br /> + The garden spot, for which men toil and wait;<br /> + The house of rest, that is each +heart’s demand;<br /> +But when, at last, he reached the gleaming goal,<br /> + He found, oh, cruel irony of fate,<br /> + But desert sun upon the desert +sand.</p> +<h2><a name="page4"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 4</span>THE NEED +OF THE WORLD</h2> +<p class="poetry">I know the need of the world,<br /> + Though it would not have me know.<br /> +It would hide its sorrow deep,<br /> + Where only God may go.<br /> +Yet its secret it can not keep;<br /> +It tells it awake, or asleep,<br /> +It tells it to all who will heed,<br /> +And he who runs may read.<br /> + The need of the world I know.</p> +<p class="poetry">I know the need of the world,<br /> + When it boasts of its wealth the loudest,<br /> +When it flaunts it in all men’s eyes,<br /> + When its mien is the gayest and proudest.<br /> +Oh! ever it lies—it lies,<br /> +For the sound of its laughter dies<br /> +In a sob and a smothered moan,<br /> +And it weeps when it sits alone.<br /> + The need of the world I know.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page5"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +5</span>I know the need of the world.<br /> + When the earth shakes under the tread<br /> +Of men who march to the fight,<br /> + When rivers with blood are red<br /> +And there is no law but might,<br /> +And the wrong way seems the right;<br /> +When he who slaughters the most<br /> +Is all men’s pride and boast.<br /> + The need of the world I know.</p> +<p class="poetry">I know the need of the world.<br /> + When it babbles of gold and fame,<br /> +It is only to lead us astray<br /> + From the thing that it dare not name,<br /> +For this is the sad world’s way.<br /> +Oh! poor blind world grown grey<br /> +With the need of a thing so near,<br /> +With the want of a thing so dear.<br /> + The need of the world I know.</p> +<p class="poetry">The need of the world is love.<br /> + Deep under the pride of power,<br /> +Down under its lust of greed,<br /> + For the joys that last but an hour,<br /> +There lies forever its need.<br /> +<a name="page6"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 6</span>For love is +the law and the creed<br /> +And love is the unnamed goal<br /> +Of life, from man to the mole.<br /> + Love is the need of the world.</p> +<h2><a name="page7"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 7</span>THE GULF +STREAM</h2> +<p class="poetry">Skilled mariner, and counted sane and wise,<br +/> + That was a curious thing which chanced to me,<br /> + So good a sailor on so fair a +sea.<br /> +With favouring winds and blue unshadowed skies,<br /> +Led by the faithful beacon of Love’s eyes,<br /> + Past reef and shoal, my life-boat bounded free<br /> + And fearless of all changes that might be<br /> +Under calm waves, where many a sunk rock lies.</p> +<p class="poetry">A golden dawn; yet suddenly my barque<br /> + Strained at the sails, as in a cyclone’s +blast;<br /> + And battled with an unseen +current’s force,<br /> +For we had entered when the night was dark<br /> + That old tempestuous Gulf Stream of the Past.<br /> + But for love’s eyes, I had +not kept the course.</p> +<h2><a name="page8"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +8</span>REMEMBERED</h2> +<p class="poetry">His art was loving; Eres set his sign<br /> + Upon that youthful forehead, and he drew<br /> + The hearts of women, as the sun +draws dew.<br /> +Love feeds love’s thirst as wine feeds love of wine;<br /> +Nor is there any potion from the vine<br /> + Which makes men drunken like the subtle brew<br /> + Of kisses crushed by kisses; and he grew<br /> +Inebriated with that draught divine.</p> +<p class="poetry">Yet in his sober moments, when the sun<br /> + Of radiant summer paled to lonely fall,<br /> + And passion’s sea had grown +an ebbing tide,<br /> +From out the many, Memory singled one<br /> + Full cup that seemed the sweetest of them +all—<br /> + <i>The warm red mouth that mocked +him and denied</i>.</p> +<h2><a name="page9"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 9</span>HELEN OF +TROY</h2> +<h3>ON THE ISLE OF CRANAE</h3> +<p class="poetry">The world an abject vassal to her charms,<br /> +And kings competing for a single smile,<br /> +Yet love she knew not, till upon this isle<br /> +She gave surrender to abducting arms.<br /> +Not Theseus, who plucked her lips’ first kiss,<br /> + Not Menelaus, lawful mate and spouse,<br /> + Such answering passion in her heart could rouse,<br +/> +Or wake such tumult in her soul as this.<br /> +Let come what will, let Greece and Asia meet,<br /> + Let heroes die and kingdoms run with gore;<br /> + Let devastation spread from shore to shore—<br +/> +Resplendent Helen finds her bondage sweet.<br /> +The whole world fights her battles, while she lies<br /> +Sunned in the fervour of young Paris’ eyes.</p> +<h3><a name="page10"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 10</span>ON THE +ISLE OF RHODES</h3> +<p class="poetry">The battles ended, ardent Paris dead,<br /> + Of faithful Menelaus long bereft,<br /> + Time is the only suitor who is left:<br /> +Helen survives, with youth and beauty fled.<br /> +By hate remembered, but by love forgot,<br /> + Dethroned and driven from her high estate,<br /> + Unhappy Helen feels the lash of Fate<br /> +And knows at last an unloved woman’s lot.<br /> +The Grecian marvel, and the Trojan joy,<br /> + The world’s fair wonder, from her palace +flies<br /> + The furies follow, and great Helen dies,<br /> +A death of horror, for the pride of Troy.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry">* * * * *</p> +<p class="poetry">Yet Time, like Menelaus, all forgives.<br /> +Helen, immortal in her beauty, lives.</p> +<h2><a name="page11"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 11</span>LAIS +WHEN YOUNG</h2> +<p class="poetry">Lais when young, and all her charms in +flower,<br /> + Lais, whose beauty was the fateful light<br /> + That led great ships to anchor in +the night<br /> +And bring their priceless cargoes to her bower,<br /> +Lais yet found her cup of sweet turned sour.<br /> + Great Plato’s pupil, from his lofty height,<br +/> + Zenocrates, unmoved, had seen the white<br /> +Sweet wonder of her, and defied her power.</p> +<p class="poetry">She snared the world in nets of subtle +wiles:<br /> + The proud, the famed, all clamoured at her gate;<br +/> + Dictators plead, inside her +portico;<br /> +Wisdom sought madness, in her favouring smiles;<br /> + Now was she made the laughing-stock of fate:<br /> + One loosed her clinging arms, and +bade her go.</p> +<h2><a name="page12"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 12</span>LAIS +WHEN OLD</h2> +<p class="poetry">Lais, when old and all her beauty gone,<br /> +Lais, the erstwhile courted pleasure queen,<br /> +Walked homeless through Corinth.<br /> + One mocked her mien—<br /> +One tossed her coins; she took them and passed on.<br /> +Down by the harbour sloped a terraced lawn,<br /> + Where fountains played; she paused to view the +scene.<br /> + A marble palace stood in bowers of green<br /> +’Twas here of old she revelled till the dawn.</p> +<p class="poetry">Through yonder portico her lovers +came—<br /> + Hero and statesman, athlete, merchant, sage;<br /> + They flung the whole world’s +treasures at her feet<br /> +To buy her favour and exalt her shame.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry">* * * * *</p> +<p class="poetry">She spat upon her dole of coins in rage<br /> + And faded like a phantom down the street.</p> +<h2><a name="page13"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +13</span>EXISTENCE</h2> +<p class="poetry">You are here, and you are wanted,<br /> + Though a waif upon life’s stair;<br /> +Though the sunlit hours are haunted<br /> + With the shadowy shapes of care.<br /> +Still the Great One, the All-Seeing<br /> +Called your spirit into being—<br /> +Gave you strength for any fate.<br /> +Since your life by Him was needed,<br /> +All your ways by Him are heeded—<br /> + You can trust and you can wait.</p> +<p class="poetry">You can wait to know the meaning<br /> + Of the troubles sent your soul;<br /> +Of the chasms intervening<br /> + ’Twixt your purpose and your goal;<br /> +Of the sorrows and the trials,<br /> +Of the silence and denials,<br /> + Ofttimes answering to your pleas;<br /> +Of the stinted sweets of pleasure,<br /> +And of pain’s too generous measure—<br /> + You can wait the <i>why</i> of these.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page14"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +14</span>Forth from planet unto planet,<br /> + You have gone, and you will go.<br /> +Space is vast, but we must span it;<br /> + For life’s purpose is <i>to know</i>.<br /> +Earth retains you but a minute,<br /> +Make the best of what lies in it;<br /> + Light the pathway where you are.<br /> +There is nothing worth the doing<br /> +That will leave regret or rueing,<br /> + As you speed from star to star.</p> +<p class="poetry">You are part of the Beginning,<br /> + You are parcel of To-day.<br /> +When He set His world to spinning<br /> + You were flung upon your way.<br /> +When the system falls to pieces,<br /> +When this pulsing epoch ceases,<br /> + When the <i>is</i> becomes the <i>was</i>,<br /> +You will live, for you will enter<br /> +In the great Creative Centre,<br /> + In the All-Enduring Cause.</p> +<h2><a name="page15"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +15</span>HOLIDAY SONGS</h2> +<h3>I</h3> +<p class="poetry">Sailing away on a summer sea,<br /> + Out of the bleak March weather;<br /> +Drifting away for a loaf and play,<br /> + Just you and I together;<br /> +And it’s good-bye worry and good-bye hurry<br /> +And never a care have we;<br /> +With the sea below and the sun above<br /> +And nothing to do but dream and love,<br /> + Sailing away together.</p> +<p class="poetry">Sailing away from the grim old town<br /> + And tasks the town calls duty;<br /> +Sailing away from walls of grey<br /> + To a land of bloom and beauty,<br /> +And it’s good-bye to letters from our lessers and our +betters,<br /> +<a name="page16"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 16</span>To the +cold world’s smile or its frown.<br /> +We sail away on a sunny track<br /> +To find the summer and bring it back<br /> + And love is our only duty.</p> +<h3>II</h3> +<p class="poetry">Afloat on a sea of passion<br /> + Without a compass or chart,<br /> +But the glow of your eye shows the sun is high,<br /> + By the sextant of my heart.<br /> +I know we are nearing the tropics<br /> + By the languor that round us lies,<br /> +And the smile on your mouth says the course is south<br /> + And the port is Paradise.</p> +<p class="poetry">We have left grey skies behind us,<br /> + We sail under skies of blue;<br /> +You are off with me on lovers’ sea,<br /> + And I am away with you.<br /> +We have not a single sorrow,<br /> + And I have but one fear—<br /> +That my lips may miss one offered kiss<br /> + From the mouth that is smiling near.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page17"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +17</span>There is no land of winter;<br /> + There is no world of care;<br /> +There is bloom and mirth all over the earth,<br /> + And love, love everywhere.<br /> +Our boat is the barque of Pleasure,<br /> + And whatever port we sight<br /> +The touch of your hand will make the land<br /> + The Harbour of Pure Delight.</p> +<h2><a name="page18"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +18</span>ASTROLABIUS<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">(THE CHILD OF ABELARD AND +HELOISE)</span></h2> +<h3>I</h3> +<p class="poetry">I wrenched from a passing comet in its +flight,<br /> + By that great force of two mad hearts aflame,<br /> + A soul incarnate, back to earth you came,<br /> +To glow like star-dust for a little night.<br /> +Deep shadows hide you wholly from our sight;<br /> + The centuries leave nothing but your name,<br /> + Tinged with the lustre of a splendid shame,<br /> +That blazed oblivion with rebellious light.</p> +<p class="poetry">The mighty passion that became your cause,<br +/> + Still burns its lengthening path across the +years;<br /> + We feel its raptures, and we see its tears<br /> +And ponder on its retributive laws.<br /> + Time keeps that deathless story ever new;<br /> + Yet finds no answer, when we ask of you.</p> +<h3><a name="page19"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +19</span>II</h3> +<p class="poetry">At Argenteuil, I saw the lonely cell<br /> + Where Heloise dreamed through her broken rest,<br /> + That baby lips pulled at her undried breast.<br /> +It needed but my woman’s heart to tell<br /> +Of those long vigils and the tears that fell<br /> + When aching arms reached out in fruitless quest,<br +/> + As after flight, wings brood an empty nest.<br /> +(So well I know that sorrow, ah, so well.)</p> +<p class="poetry">Across the centuries there comes no sound<br /> + Of that vast anguish; not one sigh or word<br /> + Or echo of the mother loss has stirred,<br /> +The sea of silence, lasting and profound.<br /> + Yet to each heart, that once has felt this grief,<br +/> + Sad Memory restores Time’s missing leaf.</p> +<h3>III</h3> +<p class="poetry">But what of you? Who took the +mother’s place<br /> + When sweet expanding love its object sought?<br /> + Was there a voice to tell her tragic lot,<br /> +And did you ever look upon her face?<br /> +<a name="page20"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 20</span>Was yours +a cloistered seeking after grace?<br /> + Or in the flame of adolescent thought<br /> + Were Abelard’s departed passions caught<br /> +To burn again in you and leave their trace?</p> +<p class="poetry">Conceived in nature’s bold primordial +way<br /> + (As in their revolutions, suns create),<br /> + You came to earth, a soul immaculate,<br /> +Baptized in fire, with some great part to play.<br /> + What was that part, and wherefore hid from us,<br /> + Immortal mystery, Astrolabius!</p> +<h2><a name="page21"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +21</span>COMPLETION</h2> +<p class="poetry">When I shall meet God’s generous +dispensers<br /> + Of all the riches in the heavenly store,<br /> +Those lesser gods, who act as Recompensers<br /> + For loneliness and loss upon this shore,<br /> +Methinks abashed, and somewhat hesitating,<br /> + My soul its wish and longing will declare.<br /> +Lest they reply: ‘Here are no bounties waiting:<br /> + We gave on earth, your portion and your +share.’</p> +<p class="poetry">Then shall I answer: ‘Yea, I do +remember<br /> + The many blessings to my life allowed;<br /> +My June was always longer than December,<br /> + My sun was always stronger than my cloud,<br /> +My joy was ever deeper than my sorrow,<br /> + My gain was ever greater than my loss,<br /> +My yesterday seemed less than my to-morrow,<br /> + The crown looked always larger than the cross.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page22"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +22</span>‘I have known love, in all its radiant +splendour,<br /> + It shone upon my pathway to the end.<br /> +I trod no road that did not bloom with tender<br /> + And fragrant blossoms, planted by some friend.<br /> +And those material things we call successes,<br /> + In modest measure, crowned my earthly lot.<br /> +Yet was there one sweet happiness that blesses<br /> + The life of woman, which to me came not.</p> +<p class="poetry">‘I knew the hope of motherhood; a +season<br /> + I felt a fluttering heart beat ’neath my +own;<br /> +A little cry—then silence. For that reason<br /> + I dare, to you, my only wish make known.<br /> +The babe who grew to angelhood in heaven,<br /> + I never watched unfold from child to man.<br /> +And so I ask, that unto me be given<br /> + That motherhood, which was God’s primal +plan.</p> +<p class="poetry">‘All womankind He meant to share its +glories;<br /> + He meant us all to nurse our babes to rest.<br /> +To croon them songs, to tell them sleepy stories,<br /> + Else why the wonder of a woman’s breast?<br /> +He must provide for all earth’s cheated mothers<br /> + In His vast heavens of shining sphere on sphere,<br +/> +And with my son, there must be many others—<br /> + My spirit children who will claim me here.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page23"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +23</span>‘Fair creatures by my loving thoughts +created—<br /> + Too finely fashioned for a mortal birth—<br /> +Between the borders of two worlds they waited<br /> + Until they saw my spirit leave the earth.<br /> +In God’s great nursery they must be waiting<br /> + To welcome me with many an infant wile.<br /> +Now let me go and satisfy this longing<br /> + To mother children for a little while.’</p> +<h2><a name="page24"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +24</span>SLEEP’S TREACHERY</h2> +<p class="poetry">As the grey twilight, tiptoed down the deep<br +/> + And shadowy valley, to the day’s dark end,<br +/> + She whom I thought my ever-faithful friend,<br /> +Fair-browed, calm-eyed and mother-bosomed Sleep,<br /> +Met me with smiles. ‘Poor longing heart, I keep<br /> + Sweet joy for you,’ she murmured. +‘I will send<br /> + One whom you love, with your own soul to blend<br /> +In visions, as the night hours onward creep.’</p> +<p class="poetry">I trusted her; and watched by starry beams,<br +/> + I slumbered soundly, free from all alarms.<br /> + Then not my love, but one long +banished came,<br /> +Led by false Sleep, down secret stairs of dreams<br /> + And clasped me, unresisting in fond arms.<br /> + Oh, treacherous sleep—to +sell me to such shame!</p> +<h2><a name="page25"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 25</span>ART +<i>VERSUS</i> CUPID</h2> +<p>[<i>A room in a private house</i>. <i>A maiden sitting +before a fire meditating</i>.]</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Maiden</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Now have I fully fixed upon my part.<br /> +Good-bye to dreams; for me a life of art!<br /> +Beloved art! Oh, realm serene and fair,<br /> +Above the mean and sordid world of care,<br /> +Above earth’s small ambitions and desires!<br /> +Art! art! the very word my soul inspires!<br /> +From foolish memories it sets me free.<br /> +Not what has been, but that which is to be<br /> +Absorbs me now. Adieu to vain regret!<br /> +The bow is tensely drawn—the target set.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>A knock at the door</i>.]</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Maid</span> +(<i>aside</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">The night is dark and chill; the hour is +late.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page26"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 26</span>(<i>Aloud</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">Who knocks upon my door?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>A Voice Outside</i></p> +<p class="poetry">’Tis I, your fate!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Maid</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Thou dost deceive, not me, but thine own +self.<br /> +My fate is not a wandering, vagrant elf.<br /> +My fate is here, within this throbbing heart<br /> +That beats alone for glory, and for art.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>Voice</i></p> +<p style="text-align: center">[<i>Another knock at door</i>.]</p> +<p class="poetry">Pray, let me in; I am so faint and cold.</p> +<p>[<i>Door is pushed ajar</i>. <i>Enter</i> <span +class="smcap">Cupid</span>, <i>who approaches the fire with +outstretched hands</i>.]</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Maid</span> +(<i>indignantly</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">Methinks thou art not faint, however cold,<br +/> +But rather too courageous, and most bold;<br /> +Surprisingly ill-mannered, sir, and rude,<br /> +Without an invitation to intrude<br /> +Into my very presence.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page27"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 27</span><span class="smcap">Cupid</span> +(<i>warming his hands</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry"> But, you see,<br /> +Girls never mind a little chap like me.<br /> +They’re always watching for me on the sly,<br /> +And hoping I will call.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Maid</span> +(<i>haughtily</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry"> Indeed, not I!<br /> +My heart has listened to a sweeter voice,<br /> +A clarion call that gives command—not choice.<br /> +And I have answered to that call, ‘I come’;<br /> +To other voices shall my ears be dumb.<br /> +To art alone I consecrate my life—<br /> +Art is my spouse, and I his willing wife.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Cupid</span> +(<i>slowly</i>, <i>gazing in the grate</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">Art is a sultan, and you must divide<br /> +His love with many another ill-fed bride.<br /> +Now I know one who worships you alone.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Maid</span> +(<i>impatiently</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">I will not listen! for the dice is thrown<br /> +And art has won me. On my brow some day<br /> +Shall rest the laurel wreath—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page28"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 28</span><span class="smcap">Cupid</span> +(<i>sitting down and looking at</i> <span +class="smcap">Maid</span> <i>critically</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry"> Just let me say<br /> +I think sweet orange blossoms under lace<br /> +Are better suited to your type of face.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Maid</span> +(<i>ignoring interruption</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">I yet shall stand before an audience<br /> +That listens as one mind, absorbed, intense,<br /> +And with my genius I shall rouse its cheers,<br /> +Still it to silence, soften it to tears,<br /> +Or wake its laughter. Oh, the play! the play!<br /> +The play’s the thing! My boy, <i>the play</i>!!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Cupid</span> +(<i>suddenly clapping his hands</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry"> Oh, say!<br /> +I know a splendid role for you to take,<br /> +And one that always keeps the house awake—<br /> +And calls for pretty dressing. Oh, it’s great!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Maid</span> +(<i>excitedly</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">Well, well, what is it? Wherefore make me +wait?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Cupid</span> +(<i>tapping his brow</i>, <i>thoughtfully</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">How is it those lines run—oh, now I +know;<br /> +You make a stately entrance—measured—slow—<br +/> +<a name="page29"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 29</span>To +stirring music, then you kneel and say<br /> +Something about—to honour and obey—<br /> +For better and for worse—till death do part.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Maid</span> +(<i>angrily</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">Be still, you foolish boy; that is not +<i>art</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Cupid</span> +(<i>seriously</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">She needs great skill who takes the role of +wife<br /> +In God’s stupendous drama human life.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Maid</span> +(<i>suddenly becoming serious</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">So I once thought! Oh, once my very +soul<br /> +Was filled and thrilled with dreaming of that role.<br /> +Life seemed so wonderful; it held for me<br /> +No purpose, no ambition, but to be<br /> +Loving and loved. My highest thought of fame<br /> +Was some day bearing my dear lover’s name.<br /> +Alone, I ofttimes uttered it aloud,<br /> +Or wrote it down, half timid, and all proud<br /> +To see myself lost utterly in him:<br /> +As some small star might joy in growing dim<br /> +When sinking in the sun; or as the dew,<br /> +Forgetting the brief little life it knew<br /> +In space, might on the ocean’s bosom fall<br /> +And ask for nothing—only to give all.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page30"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 30</span><span class="smcap">Cupid</span> +(<i>aside</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">Now, <i>that’s</i> the +talk—it’s music to my ear<br /> +After that stuff on ‘art’ and a +‘career.’<br /> +I hope she’ll keep it up.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Maiden</span> +(<i>continuing her reverie</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry"> Again my dream<br /> +Shaped into changing pictures. I would seem<br /> +To see myself in beautiful array<br /> +Move down the aisle upon my wedding day;<br /> +And then I saw the modest living-room<br /> +With lighted lamp, and fragrant plants in bloom,<br /> +And books and sewing scattered all about,<br /> +And just we two alone.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Cupid</span> +(<i>in glee aside</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry"> There’s not a doubt<br +/> +I’ll land her yet!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Maiden</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> My dream kaleidoscope<br /> +Changed still again, and framed love’s dearest +hope—<br /> +The trinity of home; and life was good<br /> +And all its deepest meaning understood.</p> +<p><a name="page31"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +31</span>[<i>Sits lost in a dream</i>. <i>Behind scenes a +voice sings a lullaby</i>, ‘<i>Beautiful Land of +Nod</i>.’ <span class="smcap">Cupid</span> <i>in +ecstasy tiptoes about and clasps his hands in delight</i>.]</p> +<p class="poetry">Another scene! a matron in her prime,<br /> +I saw myself glide peacefully with time<br /> +Into the quiet middle years, content<br /> +With simple joys the dear home circle lent.<br /> +My sons and daughters made my diadem;<br /> +I saw my happy youth renewed in them.<br /> +The pain of growing old lost all its sting,<br /> +For Love stood near—in Winter, as in Spring.</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Cupid</span> <i>tiptoes to door and makes +a signal</i>. <span class="smcap">Maiden</span> <i>starts +up dramatically</i>.]</p> +<p class="poetry">’Twas but a dream! I woke all +suddenly.<br /> +The world had changed! And now life means to me<br /> +My art—the stage—excitement and the crowd—<br +/> +The glare of many foot-lights—and the loud<br /> +Applause of men, as I cry in rage,<br /> +‘Give me the dagger!’ or creep down the stage<br /> +In that sleep-walking scene. Oh, art like mine<br /> +Will send the chills down every listener’s spine!<br /> +And when I choose, salt tears shall freely flow<br /> +As in the moonlight I cry, ‘Romeo! Romeo!<br /> +<a name="page32"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 32</span>Oh, +wherefore art thou, Romeo?’<br /> + Ay, ’tis +done<br /> +My dream of home life.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Cupid</span></p> +<p +class="poetry"> It +is but begun.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Maiden</span></p> +<p class="poetry">The heart but once can dream a dream so +fair,<br /> +And so henceforth love thoughts I do forswear;<br /> +Since faith in love has crumbled to the dust,<br /> +In fame alone, I put my hope and trust.</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Cupid</span> <i>at the door beckons +excitedly</i>. <i>Enter lover with outstretched +arms</i>.]</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Cupid</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Here’s one who will explain yourself to +you<br /> +And make that old sweet dream of love come true.<br /> +Fix up your foolish quarrel; time is brief—<br /> +So waste no more of it in doubt or grief.</p> +<p>[<i>The lovers meet and embrace</i>.]</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Cupid</span> +(<i>in doorway</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">Warm lip to lip, and heart to beating heart,<br +/> +The cast is made—My Lady has her part.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">CURTAIN</p> +<h2><a name="page33"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 33</span>THE +REVOLT OF VASHTI<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">(FROM THE DRAMA OF MIZPAH)</span></h2> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Is this the way to greet thy loving spouse,<br +/> +But now returned from scenes of blood and strife?<br /> +I pray thee raise thy veil and let me gaze<br /> +Upon that beauty which hath greater power<br /> +To conquer me than all the arts of war!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Vashti</span></p> +<p class="poetry">My beauty! Ay, my <i>beauty</i>! I +do hold,<br /> +In thy regard, no more an honoured place<br /> +Than yonder marble pillar, or the gold<br /> +And jewelled wine-cup which thy lips caress.<br /> +Thou wouldst degrade me in the people’s sight!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Degrade thee, Vashti? Rather do I seek<br +/> +To show my people who are gathered here<br /> +<a name="page34"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 34</span>How, as +the consort of so fair a queen,<br /> +I feel more pride than as the mighty king:<br /> +For there be many rulers on the earth,<br /> +But only <i>one</i> such queen. Come, raise thy veil!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Vashti</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Ay! only <i>one</i> such queen! A queen +is one<br /> +Who shares her husband’s greatness and his throne.<br /> +I am no more than yonder dancing girl<br /> +Who struts and smirks before a royal court!<br /> +But I will loose my veil and loose my tongue!<br /> +Now listen, sire—my master and my king;<br /> +And let thy princes and the court give ear!<br /> +’Tis time all heard how Vashti feels her shame.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Shame is no word to couple with thy name!<br /> +Shame and a spotless woman may not meet,<br /> +Even in a sentence. Choose another word.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Vashti</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Ay, <i>shame</i>, my lord—there is no +synonym<br /> +That can give voice to my ignoble state.<br /> +To be a thing for eyes to gaze upon,<br /> +Yet held an outcast from thy heart and mind;<br /> +<a name="page35"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 35</span>To hear my +beauty praised but not my worth;<br /> +To come and go at Pleasure’s beck and call,<br /> +While barred from Wisdom’s conclaves! Think ye +<i>that</i><br /> +A noble calling for a noble dame?<br /> +Why, any concubine amongst thy train<br /> +Could play my royal part as well as I—<br /> +Were she as fair!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Queen +Vashti, art thou <i>mad</i>?<br /> +I would behead another did he dare<br /> +To so besmirch thee with comparison.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Vashti</span> +(<i>to the court</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">Gaze now your fill! Behold Queen +Vashti’s eyes!<br /> +How large they gleam beneath her inch of brow!<br /> +How like a great white star, her splendid face<br /> +Shines through the midnight forest of her hair!<br /> +And see the crushed pomegranate of her mouth!<br /> +Observe her arms, her throat, her gleaming breasts,<br /> +Whereon the royal jewels rise and fall!—<br /> +And note the crescent curving of her hips,<br /> +And lovely limbs suggested ’neath her robes!<br /> +<a name="page36"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 36</span>Gaze, +gaze, I say, for these have made her queen!<br /> +She hath no mind, no heart, no dignity,<br /> +Worth royal recognition and regard;<br /> +But her fair body approbation meets<br /> +And whets the sated appetite of kings!<br /> +Now ye have seen what she was bid to show.<br /> +The queen hath played her part and begs to go.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Ay, Vashti, go and never more return!<br /> +Not only hast thou wronged thine own true lord,<br /> +And mocked and shamed me in the people’s eyes,<br /> +But thou hast wronged all princes and all men<br /> +By thy pernicious and rebellious ways.<br /> +Queens act and subjects imitate. So let<br /> +Queen Vashti weigh her conduct and her words,<br /> +Or be no more called ‘queen!’</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Vashti</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I was a princess ere I was a queen,<br /> +And worthy of a better fate than this!<br /> +There lies the crown that made me queen in name!<br /> +Here stands the woman—wife in name alone!<br /> +Now, no more queen—nor wife—but woman still—<br +/> +Ay, and a woman strong enough to be<br /> +Her own avenger.</p> +<h2><a name="page37"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 37</span>THE +CHOOSING OF ESTHER<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">(FROM THE DRAMA OF MIZPAH)</span></h2> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Tell me thy name!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">My name, great sire, is Esther.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">So thou art Esther? Esther! ’tis a +name<br /> +Breathed into sound as softly as a sigh.<br /> +A woman’s name should melt upon the lips<br /> +Like Love’s first kisses, and thy countenance<br /> +Is fit companion for so sweet a name!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Thou art most kind. I would my name and +face<br /> +Were mine own making and not accident.<br /> +Then I might feel elated at thy praise,<br /> +Where now I feel confusion.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page38"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 38</span><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Thou hast +wit<br /> +As well as beauty, Esther. Both are gems<br /> +That do embellish woman in man’s sight.<br /> +Yet they are gems of second magnitude!<br /> +Dost <i>thou</i> possess the one great perfect gem—<br /> +The matchless jewel of the world called <i>love</i>?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Sire, in the heart of every woman dwells<br /> +That wondrous perfect gem!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Then, +Esther, speak!<br /> +And tell me what is <i>love</i>! I fain would know<br /> +Thy definition of that much-mouthed word,<br /> +By woman most employed—least understood.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What can a humble Jewish maiden know<br /> +That would instruct a warrior and a king?<br /> +I have but dreamed of love as maidens will<br /> +While thou hast known its fulness. All the world<br /> +Loves Great Ahasueras!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page39"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 39</span><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> All the +world<br /> +<i>Fears great</i> Ahasueras! Kings, my child,<br /> +Are rarely loved as anything but kings.<br /> +Love, as I see it in the court and camp,<br /> +Means seeking royal favour. I would know<br /> +How love is fashioned in a maiden’s dreams.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Sire, love seeks nothing that kings can +bestow.<br /> +Love is the king of all kings here below;<br /> +Love makes the monarch but a bashful boy,<br /> +Love makes the peasant monarch in his joy;<br /> +Love seeks not place, all places are the same,<br /> +When lighted by the radiance of love’s flame.<br /> +Who deems proud love could fawn to power and splendour<br /> +Hath known not love, but some base-born pretender.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">If this be love, I would know more of it.<br /> +Speak on, fair Esther! What is love beside?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Love is in all things, all things are in +love.<br /> +Love is the earth, the sea, the skies above;<br /> +<a name="page40"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 40</span>Love is +the bird, the blossom, and the wind;<br /> +Love hath a million eyes, yet love is blind;<br /> +Love is a tempest, awful in its might;<br /> +Love is the silence of a moon-lit night;<br /> +Love is the aim of every human soul;<br /> +And he who hath not loved hath missed life’s goal!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">But tell me of thyself, of thine own dreams!<br +/> +How wouldst thou love, and how be loved again?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Who most doth love thinks least of love’s +return;<br /> +She is content to feel the passion burn<br /> +In her own bosom, and its sacred fire<br /> +Consumes each selfish purpose and desire.<br /> +’Tis in the giving, love’s best rapture lies,<br /> +Not in the counting of the things it buys.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yet, is there not vast anguish and despair<br +/> +In love that finds no answering word or smile?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">So radiant is love, it lends a glow<br /> +To each dark sorrow and to every woe.<br /> +<a name="page41"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 41</span>To love +completely is to part with pain,<br /> +Nor is there mortal who can love in vain.<br /> +Love is its own reward, it pays full measure,<br /> +And in love’s sharpest grief lies subtlest pleasure.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Methinks, a mighty warrior, lord or king<br /> +Must in thy fancy play the lover’s part;<br /> +None else could wake such reverential thought.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">When woman loves one born of lowly state,<br /> +Her thought gives crown and sceptre to her mate;<br /> +Yet be he king, or chief of some great clan,<br /> +She loves him but as woman loves a man.<br /> +Monarch or peasant, ’tis the same, I wis<br /> +When once she gives him love’s surrendering kiss.</p> +<h2><a name="page42"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +42</span>HONEYMOON SCENE<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">(FROM THE DRAMA OF MIZPAH)</span></h2> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What were thy thoughts, sweet Esther? +Something passed<br /> +Across thy face, that for a moment veiled<br /> +Thy soul from mine, and left me desolate.<br /> +Thy thoughts were not of me?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Ay, +<i>all</i> of thee!<br /> +I wondered, if in truth, thou wert content<br /> +With me—thy choice. Was there no other one<br /> +Of all who passed before thee at thy court<br /> +Whose memory pursues thee with regret?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I do confess I much regret that day<br /> +And wish I could relive it.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page43"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 43</span><span class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Oh! +My lord!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yea! I regret those hours I wasted on<br +/> +The poor procession that preceded thee.<br /> +Hadst thou come first, then all the added wealth</p> +<p class="poetry"> Of one long day of loving +thee were mine—<br /> +A boundless fortune squandered. Though I live<br /> +To three score years and ten, as I do hope,<br /> +In wedded love beside thee, that one day<br /> +Was filched from me and cannot be restored.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And then to think how frightened and abashed<br +/> +I hung outside thy gates from early morn,<br /> +Not daring to go in and meet thine eyes,<br /> +Till pitying twilight clothed me in her veil,<br /> +And evening walked beside me to thy door.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">So it was thou, fair thief, who stole that +day,<br /> +And made me poorer, by—how many hours?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Full eight, I think. They seemed a +hundred then,<br /> +And now time flies a hundred times too fast.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page44"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 44</span><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Then eight more kisses do I claim from thee,<br +/> +This very hour—first tithes of many due.<br /> +I shall exact these payments as I will,<br /> +And if they be not ready on demand,<br /> +I’ll lock thee in the prison of my arms,<br /> +Like this—and take them so—and so—and so!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">But kings must think of other things than +love<br /> +And live for other aims than happiness.<br /> +I would not drag thee from thy altitude<br /> +Of mighty ruler and great conqueror<br /> +To chain thee by my side.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Such +slavery<br /> +Would please me better than to conquer earth<br /> +Without thee, Esther. I have stood on heights<br /> +And heard the cheers of multitudes below;<br /> +Have known the loneliness of being great.<br /> +Now, let me live and love thee, like a man,<br /> +Forgetting I am king—<br /> +I am content.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page45"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 45</span><span class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Content is not the pathway to great deeds.<br +/> +As man, I hold thee higher than all kings;<br /> +As king, thou must stand higher than all men<br /> +In other eyes. Let no one say of me:<br /> +‘She spoiled his greatness by her littleness;<br /> +She made a languorous lover of a king,<br /> +And silenced war-cries on commanding lips—<br /> +With honeyed kisses; made her woman’s arms<br /> +Preferred to armour, and her couch to tents,<br /> +Until the kingdom, with no guiding hand,<br /> +Plunged down to ruin.’</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Thou +wouldst have me go—<br /> +So soon thy heart hath wearied?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">My heart is bursting with its love for thee!<br +/> +Canst thou not feel its fervour? But great men<br /> +Need wiser guidance than a woman’s heart.<br /> +My pride in thee is equal to my love,<br /> +And I would have thee greater than thou art—<br /> +Ay, greater than all other men on earth—<br /> +Though forced long years to feed my hungry heart<br /> +<a name="page46"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 46</span>On food of +memories and wine of tears,<br /> +Wert thou but winning glory and renown.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Thou art most noble, Esther; thou art fit<br /> +To be the consort of a king of kings.<br /> +But I have chewed upon ambition’s husks<br /> +And starved for love through all my manhood’s years;<br /> +And now the mighty gods have seen it fit<br /> +To spread love’s banquet and to name thee host,<br /> +May I not feast my fill? O Esther, take<br /> +The tempting nectar of those lips away<br /> +And give me wine to rouse the brute in me,<br /> +To make me thirst for blood instead of love!<br /> +Wine! Wine! I say!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Ahasueras, +wait!<br /> +Methinks good music is wine turned to sound.<br /> +Here comes thy minstrel with an offering<br /> +Pressed from the ripened fruit of my fond heart.<br /> +Mine own the words and mine the melody<br /> +And may it linger longer in thine ear<br /> +Than on thy lip would stay the taste of wine.<br /> +Sing on!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page47"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 47</span><span +class="smcap">Minstrel</span></p> +<p class="poetry">When from the field returning,<br /> +Love is a warrior’s yearning,<br /> +Love in his heart is burning,<br /> + Love is his dream.<br /> +Talk not to him of glory,<br /> +Speak not of faces gory,<br /> +Sing of love’s tender story,<br /> + Make it thy theme.<br /> +Sing of his lady’s tresses,<br /> +Sing of the smile that blesses,<br /> +Sing of the sweet caresses,<br /> + And yet again<br /> +Sing of fair children’s faces,<br /> +Sing of the dear home graces,<br /> +Sing till the vacant places,<br /> + Ring with thy strain.<br /> +Yet as the days go speeding,<br /> +Shall he arise unheeding<br /> +Love songs or words of pleading,<br /> + Strong in his might!<br /> +Helmet and armour wearing,<br /> +Hies he to deeds of daring,<br /> +Forth to the battle faring,<br /> + Back to the fight.<br /> +<a name="page48"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 48</span>Sing now +of ranks contending,<br /> +Sing of loud voices blending,<br /> +Sing of great warriors sending<br /> + Death to their foes!<br /> +Sing of war missiles humming,<br /> +Strike into martial drumming,<br /> +Sing of great victory coming,<br /> + As forth he goes.<br /> +Back to the battle faring,<br /> +Back into deeds of daring,<br /> + Back to the fight.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">No less a lover but a greater man,<br /> +A better warrior and a nobler king,<br /> +I will be from this hour for thy dear sake.</p> +<h2><a name="page49"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 49</span>THE +COST</h2> +<p class="poetry">God finished woman in the twilight hour<br /> +And said, ‘To-morrow thou shalt find thy place:<br /> +Man’s complement, the mother of the race—<br /> + With love the motive power—<br /> + The one compelling power.’</p> +<p class="poetry">All night she dreamed and wondered. With +the light<br /> +Her lover came—and then she understood<br /> +The purpose of her being. Life was good<br /> + And all the world seemed right—<br /> + And nothing was, but right.</p> +<p class="poetry">She had no wish for any wider sway:<br /> +By all the questions of the world unvexed,<br /> +Supremely loving and superbly sexed,<br /> + She passed upon her way—<br /> + Her feminine fair way.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page50"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +50</span>But God neglected, when He fashioned man,<br /> +To fuse the molten splendour of his mind<br /> +With that sixth sense He gave to womankind.<br /> + And so He marred His plan—<br /> + Ay, marred His own great plan.</p> +<p class="poetry">She asked so little, and so much she gave,<br +/> +That man grew selfish: and she soon became,<br /> +To God’s great sorrow and the whole world’s shame,<br +/> + Man’s sweet and patient slave—<br /> + His uncomplaining slave.</p> +<p class="poetry">Yet in the nights (oh! nights so dark and +long)<br /> +She clasped her little children to her breast<br /> +And wept. And in her anguish of unrest<br /> + She thought upon her wrong;<br /> + She knew how great her wrong.</p> +<p class="poetry">And one sad hour, she said unto her heart,<br +/> +‘Since thou art cause of all my bitter pain,<br /> +I bid thee abdicate the throne: let brain<br /> + Rule now, and do his part—<br /> + His masterful, strong part.’</p> +<p class="poetry">She wept no more. By new ambition +stirred<br /> +Her ways led out, to regions strange and vast.<br /> +<a name="page51"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 51</span>Men stood +aside and watched, dismayed, aghast,<br /> + And all the world demurred—<br /> + Misjudged her, and demurred.</p> +<p class="poetry">Still on and up, from sphere to widening +sphere,<br /> +Till thorny paths bloomed with the rose of fame.<br /> +Who once demurred, now followed with acclaim:<br /> + The hiss died in the cheer—<br /> + The loud applauding cheer.</p> +<p class="poetry">She stood triumphant in that radiant hour,<br +/> +Man’s mental equal, and competitor.<br /> +But ah! the cost! from out the heart of her<br /> + Had gone love’s motive power—<br /> + Love’s all-compelling power.</p> +<h2><a name="page52"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 52</span>THE +VOICE</h2> +<p class="poetry">I dreamed a Voice, of one God-authorised,<br /> +Cried loudly thro’ the world, ‘Disarm! +Disarm!’<br /> +And there was consternation in the camps;<br /> +And men who strutted under braid and lace<br /> +Beat on their medalled breasts, and wailed, +‘Undone!’<br /> +The word was echoed from a thousand hills,<br /> +And shop and mill, and factory and forge,<br /> +Where throve the awful industries of death,<br /> +Hushed into silence. Scrawled upon the doors,<br /> +The passer read, ‘Peace bids her children starve.’<br +/> +But foolish women clasped their little sons<br /> +And wept for joy, not reasoning like men.</p> +<p class="poetry">Again the Voice commanded: ‘Now go +forth<br /> +And build a world for Progress and for Peace.<br /> +This work has waited since the earth was shaped;<br /> +But men were fighting, and they could not toil.<br /> +<a name="page53"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 53</span>The needs +of life outnumber needs of death.<br /> +Leave death with God. Go forth, I say, and +build.’</p> +<p class="poetry">And then a sudden, comprehensive joy<br /> +Shone in the eyes of men; and one who thought<br /> +Only of conquests and of victories<br /> +Woke from his gloomy reverie and cried,<br /> +‘Ay, come and build! I challenge all to try.<br /> +And I will make a world more beautiful<br /> +Than Eden was before the serpent came.’<br /> +And like a running flame on western wilds,<br /> +Ambition spread from mind to listening mind,<br /> +And lo! the looms were busy once again,<br /> +And all the earth resounded with men’s toil.</p> +<p class="poetry">Vast palaces of Science graced the world;<br /> +Their banquet tables spread with feasts of truth<br /> +For all who hungered. Music kissed the air,<br /> +Once rent with boom of cannons. Statues gleamed<br /> +From wooded ways, where ambushed armies hid<br /> +In times of old. The sea and air were gay<br /> +With shining sails that soared from land to land.<br /> +A universal language of the world<br /> +Made nations kin, and poverty was known</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page54"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +54</span>But as a word marked ‘obsolete,’ like +war.<br /> +The arts were kindled with celestial fire;<br /> +New poets sang so Homer’s fame grew dim;<br /> +And brush and chisel gave the wondering race<br /> +Sublimer treasures than old Greece displayed.<br /> +Men differed still; fierce argument arose,<br /> +For men are human in this human sphere;<br /> +But unarmed Arbitration stood between<br /> +And Reason settled in a hundred hours<br /> +What War disputed for a hundred years.</p> +<p class="poetry">Oh, that a Voice, of one God-authorised<br /> +Might cry to all mankind, Disarm! Disarm!</p> +<h2><a name="page55"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +55</span>GOD’S ANSWER</h2> +<p class="poetry">Once in a time of trouble and of care<br /> +I dreamed I talked with God about my pain;<br /> +With sleepland courage, daring to complain<br /> +Of what I deemed ungracious and unfair.<br /> +‘Lord, I have grovelled on my knees in prayer<br /> + Hour after hour,’ I cried; ‘yet all in +vain;<br /> + No hand leads up to heights I would attain,<br /> +No path is shown me out of my despair.’</p> +<p class="poetry">Then answered God: ‘Three things I gave +to thee—<br /> + Clear brain, brave will, and strength of mind and +heart,<br /> + All implements divine, to shape +the way.<br /> +Why shift the burden of thy toil on Me?<br /> + Till to the utmost he has done his part<br /> + With all his might, let no man +<i>dare</i> to pray.’</p> +<h2><a name="page56"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 56</span>THE +EDICT OF THE SEX</h2> +<p class="poetry">Two thousand years had passed since Christ was +born,<br /> +When suddenly there rose a mighty host<br /> +Of women, sweeping to a central goal<br /> +As many rivers sweep on to the sea.<br /> +They came from mountains, valleys, and from coasts,<br /> +And from all lands, all nations, and all ranks,<br /> +Speaking all languages, but thinking one.<br /> +And that one language—Peace.</p> +<p +class="poetry"> ‘Listen,’ +they said,<br /> +And straightway was there silence on the earth,<br /> +For men were dumb with wonder and surprise.<br /> +‘Listen, O mighty masters of the world,<br /> +And hear the edict of all womankind:<br /> +Since Christ His new commandment gave to men,<br /> +<i>Love one another</i>, full two thousand years<br /> +Have passed away, yet earth is red with blood.<br /> +<a name="page57"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 57</span>The strong +male rulers of the world proclaim<br /> +Their weakness, when we ask that war shall cease.<br /> +Now will the poor weak women of the world<br /> +Proclaim their strength, and say that war shall end.<br /> +Hear, then, our edict: Never from this day<br /> +Will any woman on the crust of earth<br /> +Mother a warrior. We have sworn the oath<br /> +And will go barren to the waiting tomb<br /> +Rather than breed strong sons at war’s behest,<br /> +Or bring fair daughters into life, to bear<br /> +The pains of travail, for no end but war.<br /> +Ay! let the race die out for lack of babes<br /> +Better a dying race than endless wars!<br /> +Better a silent world than noise of guns<br /> +And clash of armies.</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘Long +we asked for peace,<br /> +And oft you promised—but to fight again.<br /> +At last you told us, war must ever be<br /> +While men existed, laughing at our plea<br /> +For the disarmament of all mankind.<br /> +Then in our hearts flamed such a mad desire<br /> +For peace on earth, as lights the world at times<br /> +With some great conflagration; and it spread<br /> +From distant land to land, from sea to sea,<br /> +<a name="page58"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 58</span>Until all +women thought as with one mind<br /> +And spoke as with one voice; and now behold!<br /> +The great Crusading Syndicate of Peace,<br /> +Filling all space with one supreme resolve.<br /> +Give us, O men, your word that war shall end:<br /> +Disarm the world, and we will give you sons—<br /> +Sons to construct, and daughters to adorn<br /> +A beautiful new earth, where there shall be<br /> +Fewer and finer people, opulence<br /> +And opportunity and peace for all.<br /> +Until you promise peace no shrill birth-cry<br /> +Shall sound again upon the aging earth.<br /> +We wait your answer.’</p> +<p class="poetry"> And the +world was still<br /> +While men considered.</p> +<h2><a name="page59"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 59</span>THE +WORLD-CHILD</h2> +<p class="poetry">At times I am the mother of the world;<br /> +And mine seem all its sorrows, and its fears.<br /> +That rose, which in each mother-heart is curled,<br /> + The rose of pity, opens with my tears,<br /> +And, waking in the night, I lie and hark<br /> + To the lone sobbing, and the wild alarms,<br /> +Of my World-child, a wailing in the dark:<br /> + The child I fain would shelter in my arms.<br /> +I call to it (as from another room<br /> + A mother calls, what time she cannot go):<br /> +‘Sleep well, dear world; Love hides behind this gloom.<br +/> + There is no need for wakefulness or woe,<br /> +The long, long night is almost past and gone,<br /> +The day is near.’ And yet the world weeps on.</p> +<p class="poetry">Again I follow it, throughout the day.<br /> + With anxious eyes I see it trip and fall,<br /> +<a name="page60"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 60</span>And hurt +itself in many a foolish way:<br /> + Childlike, unheeding warning word or call.<br /> +I see it grasp, and grasping, break the toys<br /> + It cried to own, then toss them on the floor<br /> +And, breathless, hurry after fancied joys<br /> + That cease to please, when added to its store.<br /> +I see the lacerations on its hands,<br /> + Made by forbidden tools; but when it weeps,<br /> +I also weep, as one who understands;<br /> + And having been a child, the memory keeps.<br /> +Ah, my poor world, however wrong thy part,<br /> +Still is there pity in my mother-heart.</p> +<h2><a name="page61"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 61</span>THE +HEIGHTS</h2> +<p class="poetry">I cried, ‘Dear Angel, lead me to the +heights,<br /> + And spur me to the top.’<br /> + The Angel answered, ‘Stop<br /> +And set thy house in order; make it fair<br /> +For absent ones who may be speeding there.<br /> + Then will we talk of heights.’</p> +<p class="poetry">I put my house in order. ‘Now lead +on!’<br /> + The Angel said, ‘Not yet;<br /> + Thy garden is beset<br /> +By thorns and tares; go weed it, so all those<br /> +Who come to gaze may find the unvexed rose;<br /> + Then will we journey on.’</p> +<p class="poetry">I weeded well my garden. ‘All is +done.’<br /> + The Angel shook his head.<br /> + ‘A beggar stands,’ he said,<br /> +<a name="page62"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +62</span>‘Outside thy gates; till thou hast given heed<br +/> +And soothed his sorrow, and supplied his need,<br /> + Say not that all is done.’</p> +<p class="poetry">The beggar left me singing. ‘Now at +last—<br /> + At last the path is clear.’<br /> + ‘Nay, there is one draws near<br /> +Who seeks, like thee, the difficult highway.<br /> +He lacks thy courage; cheer him through the day<br /> + Then will we cry, “At last!”’</p> +<p class="poetry">I helped my weaker brother. ‘Now +the heights;<br /> + Oh, Guide me, Angel, guide!’<br /> + The Presence at my side,<br /> +With radiant face, said, ‘Look, where are we now?’<br +/> +And lo! we stood upon the mountain’s brow—<br /> + The heights, the shining heights!</p> +<h2><a name="page63"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 63</span>ON +SEEING ‘THE HOUSE OF JULIA’ AT HERCULANEUM</h2> +<p class="poetry">Not great Vesuvius, in all his ire,<br /> +Nor all the centuries, could hide your shame.<br /> +There is the little window where you came,<br /> +With eyes that woke the demon of desire,<br /> +And lips like rose leaves, fashioned out of fire;<br /> + And from the lava leaps the molten flame<br /> + Of your old sins. The walls cry out your +name—<br /> +Your face seems rising from the funeral pyre.</p> +<p class="poetry">There must have dwelt, within your fated +town,<br /> + Full many a virtuous dame, and noble wife<br /> + Who made your beauty seem as star +to sun;<br /> +How strange the centuries have handed down<br /> + Your name, fair Julia, of immoral life,<br /> + And left the others to +oblivion.</p> +<h2><a name="page64"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 64</span>A +PRAYER</h2> +<p class="poetry">Master of sweet and loving lore,<br /> + Give us the open mind<br /> +To know religion means no more,<br /> + No less, than being kind.</p> +<p class="poetry">Give us the comprehensive sight<br /> + That sees another’s need;<br /> +And let our aim to set things right<br /> + Prove God inspired our creed.</p> +<p class="poetry">Give us the soul to know our kin<br /> + That dwell in flock and herd,<br /> +The voice to fight man’s shameful sin<br /> + Against the beast and bird.</p> +<p class="poetry">Give us a heart with love so fraught<br /> + For all created things,<br /> +That even our unspoken thought<br /> + Bears healing on its wings.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page65"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +65</span>Give us religion that will cope<br /> + With life’s colossal woes,<br /> +And turn a radiant face of hope<br /> + On troops of pigmy foes.</p> +<p class="poetry">Give us the mastery of our fate<br /> + In thoughts so warm and white,<br /> +They stamp upon the brows of hate<br /> + Love’s glorious seal of light.</p> +<p class="poetry">Give us the strong, courageous faith<br /> + That makes of pain a friend,<br /> +And calls the secret word of death<br /> + ‘Beginning,’ and not +‘end.’</p> +<h2><a name="page66"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 66</span>WHAT +IS RIGHT LIVING?</h2> +<p class="poetry">What is right living? Just to do your +best<br /> +When worst seems easier. To bear the ills<br /> +Of daily life with patient cheerfulness<br /> +Nor waste dear time recounting them.<br /> + To talk<br /> +Of hopeful things when doubt is in the air.<br /> +To count your blessings often, giving thanks,<br /> +And to accept your sorrows silently,<br /> +Nor question why you suffer. To accept<br /> +The whole of life as one perfected plan,<br /> +And welcome each event as part of it.<br /> +To work, and love your work; to trust, to pray<br /> +For larger usefulness and clearer sight.<br /> +This is right living, pleasing in God’s eyes,<br /> +Though you be heathen, heretic or Jew.</p> +<h2><a name="page67"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +67</span>JUSTICE</h2> +<p class="poetry">However inexplicable may seem<br /> + Event and circumstance upon this earth,<br /> +Though favours fall on those whom none esteem,<br /> + And insult and indifference greet worth;<br /> +Though poverty repays the life of toil,<br /> + And riches spring where idle feet have trod,<br /> +And storms lay waste the patiently tilled soil—<br /> + Yet Justice sways the universe of God.</p> +<p class="poetry">As undisturbed the stately stars remain<br /> + Beyond the glare of day’s obscuring light,<br +/> +So Justice dwells, though mortal eyes in vain<br /> + Seek it persistently by reason’s sight.<br /> +But when, once freed, the illumined soul looks out.<br /> +Its cry will be, ‘O God, how could I doubt!’</p> +<h2><a name="page68"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +68</span>TIME’S GAZE</h2> +<p class="poetry">Time looked me in the eyes while passing by<br +/> +The milestone of the year. That piercing gaze<br /> +Was both an accusation and reproach.<br /> +No speech was needed. In a sorrowing look<br /> +More meaning lies than in complaining words,<br /> +And silence hurts as keenly as reproof.</p> +<p class="poetry">Oh, opulent, kind giver of rich hours,<br /> +How have I used thy benefits! As babes<br /> +Unstring a necklace, laughing at the sound<br /> +Of priceless jewels dropping one by one,<br /> +So have I laughed while precious moments rolled<br /> +Into the hidden corners of the past.<br /> +And I have let large opportunities<br /> +For high endeavour move unheeded by,<br /> +While little joys and cares absorbed my strength.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page69"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +69</span>And yet, dear Time, set to my credit this:<br /> +<i>Not one white hour have I made black with hate</i>,<br /> +<i>Nor wished one living creature aught but good</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Be patient with me. Though the sun slants +west,<br /> +The day has not yet finished, and I feel<br /> +Necessity for action and resolve<br /> +Bear in upon my consciousness. I know<br /> +The earth’s eternal need of earnest souls,<br /> +And the great hunger of the world for Love.<br /> +I know the goal to high achievement lies<br /> +Through the dull pathway of self-conquest first;<br /> +And on the stairs of little duties done<br /> +We climb to joys that stand thy test. O Time,<br /> +Be patient with me, and another day,<br /> +Perchance, in passing by, thine eyes may smile.</p> +<h2><a name="page70"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 70</span>THE +WORKER AND THE WORK</h2> +<p class="poetry">In what I do I note the marring flaw,<br /> +The imperfections of the work I see;<br /> +Nor am I one who rather <i>do</i> than <i>be</i>,<br /> +Since its reversal is Creation’s law.</p> +<p class="poetry">Nay, since there lies a better and a worse,<br +/> +A lesser and a larger, in men’s view,<br /> +I would be better than the thing I do,<br /> +As God is greater than His universe.</p> +<p class="poetry">He shaped Himself before He shaped one +world:<br /> +A million eons, toiling day and night,<br /> +He built Himself to majesty and might,<br /> +Before the planets into space were hurled.</p> +<p class="poetry">And when Creation’s early work was +done,<br /> +What crude beginnings out of chaos came—<br /> +A formless nebula, a wavering flame,<br /> +An errant comet, a voracious sun.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page71"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +71</span>And, still unable to perfect His plan,<br /> +What awful creatures at His touch found birth—<br /> +Those protoplasmic monsters of the earth,<br /> +That owned the world before He fashioned Man.</p> +<p class="poetry">And now, behold the poor unfinished state<br /> +Of this, His latest masterpiece! Then why,<br /> +Seeing the flaws in my own work, should I<br /> +Be troubled that no voice proclaims it great?</p> +<p class="poetry">Before me lie the cycling rounds of years;<br +/> +With this small earth will die the thing I do:<br /> +The thing I am, goes journeying onward through<br /> +A million lives, upon a million spheres.</p> +<p class="poetry">My work I build, as best I can and may,<br /> +Knowing all mortal effort ends in dust.<br /> +I build myself, not as I may, but must,<br /> +Knowing, or good, or ill, that self must stay.</p> +<p class="poetry">Along the ages, out, and on, afar,<br /> +Its journey leads, and must perforce be made.<br /> +Likewise its choice, with things of shame and shade,<br /> +Or up the path of light, from star to star.</p> +<p class="poetry">When all these solar systems shall disperse,<br +/> +Perchance this labour, and this self-control,<br /> +May find reward; and my completed soul<br /> +Will fling in space, a little universe.</p> +<h2><a name="page72"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 72</span>ART +THOU ALIVE?</h2> +<p class="poetry">Art thou alive? Nay, not too soon +reply,<br /> +Tho’ hand, and foot, and lip, and ear, and eye,<br /> +Respond, and do thy bidding yet may be<br /> +Grim death has done his direst work with thee.<br /> +Life, as God gives it, is a thing apart<br /> +From active body and from beating heart.<br /> +It is the vital spark, the unseen fire,<br /> +That moves the mind to reason and aspire;<br /> +It is the force that bids emotion roll,<br /> +In mighty billows from the surging soul.</p> +<p class="poetry">It is the light that grows from hour to +hour,<br /> +And floods the brain with consciousness of power;<br /> +It is the spirit dominating all,<br /> +And reaching God with its imperious call,<br /> +Until the shining glory of His face<br /> +Illuminates each sorrowful, dark place;</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page73"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +73</span>It is the truth that sets the bondsman free,<br /> +Knowing he will be what he wills to be.<br /> +With its unburied dead the earth is sad.<br /> +Art thou alive? proclaim it and be glad.<br /> +Perchance the dead may hear thee and arise,<br /> +Knowing they live, and <i>here</i> is Paradise.</p> +<h2><a name="page74"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +74</span>TO-DAY</h2> +<p class="poetry">I love this age of energy and force,<br /> + Expectantly I greet each pregnant hour;<br /> +Emerging from the all-creative source,<br /> + Supreme with promise, imminent with power.<br /> +The strident whistle and the clanging bell,<br /> + The noise of gongs, the rush of motored things<br /> +Are but the prophet voices which foretell<br /> + A time when thought may use unfettered wings.</p> +<p class="poetry">Too long the drudgery of earth has been<br /> + A barrier ’twixt man and his own mind.<br /> +Remove the stone, and lo! the Christ within;<br /> + For He is there, and who so seeks shall find.<br /> +The Great Inventor is the Modern Priest.<br /> + He paves the pathway to a higher goal.<br /> +Once from the grind of endless toil released<br /> + Man will explore the kingdom of his soul.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page75"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +75</span>And all this restless rush, this strain and strife,<br +/> + This noise and glare is but the fanfarade<br /> +That ushers in the more majestic life<br /> + Where faith shall walk with science, unafraid.<br /> +I feel the strong vibrations of the earth,<br /> + I sense the coming of an hour sublime,<br /> +And bless the star that watched above my birth<br /> + And let me live in this important time.</p> +<h2><a name="page76"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 76</span>THE +LADDER</h2> +<p class="poetry">Unto each mortal who comes to earth<br /> +A ladder is given by God, at birth,<br /> +And up this ladder the soul must go,<br /> +Step by step, from the valley below;<br /> +Step by step, to the centre of space,<br /> +On this ladder of lives, to the Starting Place.</p> +<p class="poetry">In time departed (which yet endures)<br /> +I shaped my ladder, and you shaped yours.<br /> +Whatever they are—they are what we made:<br /> +A ladder of light, or a ladder of shade,<br /> +A ladder of love, or a hateful thing,<br /> +A ladder of strength, or a wavering string.<br /> +A ladder of gold, or a ladder of straw,<br /> +Each is the ladder of righteous law.</p> +<p class="poetry">We flung them away at the call of death,<br /> +We took them again with the next life breath.<br /> +For a keeper stands by the great birth gates;<br /> +As each soul passes, its ladder waits.<br /> +<a name="page77"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 77</span>Though +mine be narrow, and yours be broad,<br /> +On my ladder alone can I climb to God.<br /> +On your ladder alone can your feet ascend,<br /> +For none may borrow, and none may lend.</p> +<p class="poetry">If toil and trouble and pain are found,<br /> +Twisted and corded, to form each round,<br /> +If rusted iron or mouldering wood<br /> +Is the fragile frame, you must make it good.<br /> +You must build it over and fashion it strong,<br /> +Though the task be hard as your life is long;<br /> +For up this ladder the pathway leads<br /> +To earthly pleasures and spirit needs;<br /> +And all that may come in another way<br /> +Shall be but illusion, and will not stay.</p> +<p class="poetry">In useless effort, then, waste no time;<br /> +Rebuild your ladder, and climb and climb.</p> +<h2><a name="page78"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 78</span>WHO IS +A CHRISTIAN?</h2> +<p class="poetry">Who is a Christian in this Christian land<br /> +Of many churches and of lofty spires?<br /> +Not he who sits in soft upholstered pews<br /> +Bought by the profits of unholy greed,<br /> +And looks devotion, while he thinks of gain.<br /> +Not he who sends petitions from the lips<br /> +That lie to-morrow in the street and mart.<br /> +Not he who fattens on another’s toil,<br /> +And flings his unearned riches to the poor,<br /> +Or aids the heathen with a lessened wage,<br /> +And builds cathedrals with an increased rent.</p> +<p class="poetry">Christ, with Thy great, sweet, simple creed of +love,<br /> +How must Thou weary of Earth’s ‘Christian’ +clans,<br /> +Who preach salvation through Thy saving blood<br /> +While planning slaughter of their fellow men.<br /> +<a name="page79"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 79</span>Who is a +Christian? It is one whose life<br /> +Is built on love, on kindness and on faith;<br /> +Who holds his brother as his other self;<br /> +Who toils for justice, equity and PEACE,<br /> +And hides no aim or purpose in his heart<br /> +That will not chord with universal good.</p> +<p class="poetry">Though he be pagan, heretic or Jew,<br /> +That man is Christian and beloved of Christ.</p> +<h2><a name="page80"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 80</span>THE +GOAL</h2> +<p class="poetry">All your wonderful inventions,<br /> + All your houses vast and tall,<br /> +All your great gun-fronted vessels,<br /> + Every fort and every wall,<br /> +With the passing of the ages,<br /> + They shall pass and they shall fall.</p> +<p class="poetry">As you sit among the idols<br /> + That your avarice gave birth,<br /> +As you count the hoarded treasures<br /> + That you think of priceless worth,<br /> +Time is digging tombs to hide them<br /> + In the bosom of the earth.</p> +<p class="poetry">There shall come a great convulsion<br /> + Or a rushing tidal wave,<br /> +Or a sound of mighty thunders<br /> + From a subterranean cave,<br /> +And a boasting world’s possessions<br /> + Shall be buried in one grave.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page81"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +81</span>From the Centuries of Silence<br /> + We are bringing back again<br /> +Buried vase and bust and column<br /> + And the gods they worshipped then,<br /> +In the strange unmentioned cities<br /> + Built by prehistoric men.</p> +<p class="poetry">Did they steal, and lie, and slaughter?<br /> + Did they steep their souls in shame?<br /> +Did they sell eternal virtues<br /> + Just to win a passing fame?<br /> +Did they give the gold of honour<br /> + For the tinsel of a name?</p> +<p class="poetry">We are hurrying all together<br /> + Toward the silence and the night;<br /> +There is nothing worth the seeking<br /> + But the sun-kissed moral height—<br /> +There is nothing worth the doing<br /> + But the doing of the <i>right</i>.</p> +<h2><a name="page82"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 82</span>THE +SPUR</h2> +<p class="poetry">I asked the rock beside the road what joy +existence lent.<br /> +It answered, ‘For a million years my heart has been +content.’</p> +<p class="poetry">I asked the truffle-seeking swine, as rooting +by he went,<br /> +‘What is the keynote of your life?’ He grunted +out, ‘Content.’</p> +<p class="poetry">I asked a slave, who toiled and sung, just what +his singing meant.<br /> +He plodded on his changeless way, and said, ‘I am +content.’</p> +<p class="poetry">I asked a plutocrat of greed, on what his +thoughts were bent.<br /> +He chinked the silver in his purse, and said, ‘I am +content.’</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page83"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +83</span>I asked the mighty forest tree from whence its force was +sent.<br /> +Its thousand branches spoke as one, and said, ‘From +discontent.’</p> +<p class="poetry">I asked the message speeding on, by what great +law was rent<br /> +God’s secret from the waves of space. It said, +‘From discontent.’</p> +<p class="poetry">I asked the marble, where the works of God and +man were blent,<br /> +What brought the statue from the block. It answered, +‘Discontent.’</p> +<p class="poetry">I asked an Angel, looking down on earth with +gaze intent,<br /> +How man should rise to larger growth. Quoth he, +‘Through discontent.’</p> +<h2><a name="page84"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +84</span>AWAKENED!</h2> +<p class="poetry">Slowly the People waken; they have been,<br /> +Like weary soldiers, sleeping in their tents,<br /> +While traitors tiptoed through the silent camp<br /> +Intent on plunder. Suddenly a sound—<br /> +A careless movement of too bold a thief—<br /> +Starts one dull sleeper; then another stirs,<br /> +A third cries out a warning, and at last<br /> +The people are awake! Oh, when as one<br /> +The many rise, united and alert,<br /> +With Justice for their motto, they reflect<br /> +The mighty force of God’s Omnipotence.<br /> +And nothing stands before them. Lusty Greed,<br /> +Tyrannical Corruption long in power,<br /> +And smirking Cant (whose right hand robs and slays<br /> +So that the left may dower Church and School),<br /> +Monopoly, whose mandate took from Toil<br /> +The Mother Earth, that Idleness might loll<br /> +<a name="page85"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 85</span>And breed +the Monster of Colossal Wealth—<br /> +All these must fall before the gathering Force<br /> +Of public indignation. That old strife<br /> +Which marks the progress of each century,<br /> +The war of Right with Might, is on once more,<br /> +And shame to him who does not take his stand.</p> +<p class="poetry">This is the weightiest moment of all time,<br +/> +And on the issues of the present hour<br /> +A nation’s honour and a country’s peace,<br /> +A People’s future, ay, a World’s, depends.</p> +<p class="poetry">Until the vital questions of the day<br /> +Are solved and settled, and the spendthrift thieves<br /> +Who rob the coffers of the saving poor<br /> +Are led from fashion’s feasts to prison fare,<br /> +And taught the saving grace of honest work—<br /> +Till Labour claims the privilege of toil<br /> +And toil the proceeds of its labour shares—<br /> +Let no man sleep, let no man dare to sleep!</p> +<h2><a name="page86"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +86</span>SHADOWS</h2> +<p class="poetry">I am sorry in the gladness<br /> + Of the joys that crown my days,<br /> +For the souls that sit in sadness<br /> + Or walk uninviting ways.</p> +<p class="poetry">On the radiance of my labour<br /> + That a loving fate bestowed,<br /> +Falls the shadow of my neighbour,<br /> + Crushed beneath a thankless load.</p> +<p class="poetry">As the canticle of pleasure<br /> + From my lovelit altar rolls,<br /> +There is one discordant measure,<br /> + As I think of homeless souls.</p> +<p class="poetry">And I know that grim old story,<br /> + Preached from pulpits, is not so,<br /> +For no God could sit in glory<br /> + And see sinners writhe below.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page87"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +87</span>In that great eternal Centre<br /> + Where all human life has birth,<br /> +Boundless love and pity enter<br /> + And flow downward to the earth.</p> +<p class="poetry">And all souls in sin or sorrow<br /> + Are but passing through the night,<br /> +And I know on some to-morrow<br /> + God will love them into light.</p> +<h2><a name="page88"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 88</span>THE +NEW COMMANDMENT</h2> +<blockquote><p>‘<i>Let go the Cross</i>’—<span +class="smcap">Gertrude Runshon</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p class="poetry">I heard a strange voice in the distance +calling<br /> +As from a star an echo might be falling.</p> +<p class="poetry">It spoke four syllables, concise and brief,<br +/> +Charged with a God-sent message of relief:</p> +<p class="poetry"><i>Let go the cross</i>! Oh, you who +cling to sorrow,<br /> +Hark to the new command and comfort borrow.</p> +<p class="poetry">Even as the Master left His cross below<br /> +And rose to Paradise, let go, let go.</p> +<p class="poetry">Forget your wrongs, your troubles and your +losses,<br /> +For with the tools of thought we build our crosses.</p> +<p class="poetry">Forget your griefs, all grudges and all fear<br +/> +And enter Paradise—its gates are near.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page89"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +89</span>Heaven is a realm by loving souls created,<br /> +And hell was fashioned by the hearts that hated.</p> +<p class="poetry">Love, hope and trust; believe all joys are +yours,<br /> +Life pays the soul whose confidence endures,</p> +<p class="poetry">The blows of adverse fate, by larger +pleasures,<br /> +As after storms the soil yields fuller measures.</p> +<p class="poetry">Let go the cross; roll self—the +stone—away<br /> +And dwell with Love in Paradise to-day.</p> +<h2><a name="page90"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 90</span>SUMMER +DREAMS</h2> +<p class="poetry">When the Summer sun is shining,<br /> + And the green things push and grow,<br /> +Oft my heart runs over measure,<br /> +With its flowing fount of pleasure,<br /> + As I feel the sea winds blow;<br /> + Ah, then life is good, I know.</p> +<p class="poetry">And I think of sweet birds building,<br /> + And of children fair and free;<br /> +And of glowing sun-kissed meadows,<br /> +And of tender twilight shadows,<br /> + And of boats upon the sea.<br /> + Oh, then life seems good to me!</p> +<p class="poetry">Then unbidden and unwanted,<br /> + Come the darker, sadder sights;<br /> +City shop and stifling alley,<br /> +Where misfortune’s children rally;<br /> + And the hot crime-breeding nights,<br /> + And the dearth of God’s delights.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page91"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +91</span>And I think of narrow prisons<br /> + Where unhappy songbirds dwell,<br /> +And of cruel pens and cages<br /> +Where some captured wild thing rages<br /> + Like a madman in his cell,<br /> + In the Zoo, the wild beasts’ hell.</p> +<p class="poetry">And I long to lift the burden<br /> + Of man’s selfishness and sin;<br /> +And to open wide earth’s treasures<br /> +Of God’s storehouse, full of pleasures,<br /> + For my dumb and human kin,<br /> + And to ask the whole world in.</p> +<h2><a name="page92"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 92</span>THE +BREAKING OF CHAINS</h2> +<p class="poetry">Between the ringing of bells and the musical +clang of chimes<br /> +I hear a sound like the breaking of chains, all through these +Christmas times.<br /> +For the thought of the world is waking out of a slumber deep and +long,<br /> +And the race is beginning to understand how Right can master +Wrong.</p> +<p class="poetry">And the eyes of the world are opening wide, and +great are the truths they see;<br /> +And the heart of the world is singing a song, and its burden is +‘Be free!’<br /> +Now the thought of the world and the wish of the world and the +song of the world will make<br /> +A force so strong that the fetters forged for a million years +must break.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page93"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +93</span>Fetters of superstitious fear have bound the race to +creeds<br /> +That hindered the upward march of man to the larger faith he +needs.<br /> +Fetters of greed and pride have made the race bow down to +kings;<br /> +But the pompous creed and the costly throne must yield to simpler +things.</p> +<p class="poetry">The thought of the world has climbed above old +paths for centuries trod;<br /> +And cloth and crown no longer mean the ‘vested power of +God.’<br /> +The race no longer bends beneath the weight of Adam’s +sin,<br /> +But stands erect and knows itself the Maker’s first of +kin.</p> +<p class="poetry">And the need of the world and the wish of the +world and the song of the world I hear,<br /> +All through the clanging and clashing of bells, this Christmas +time o’ the year;<br /> +And I hear a sound like the breaking of chains, and it seems to +say to me,<br /> +In the voice of One who spoke of old, ‘The Truth shall make +men free.’</p> +<h2><a name="page94"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +94</span>DECEMBER</h2> +<p class="poetry">Upon December’s windy portico<br /> +The Old Year stood, and looked out where the sun<br /> +Went wading down the West, through drifting clouds.<br /> +‘I, too, shall sink full soon to rest,’ he sighed,<br +/> +‘And follow where my children’s feet have trod;<br /> +Brave January, beauteous May and June,<br /> +My lovely daughters, and my valiant sons,<br /> +All, all save one, have left me for that bourne<br /> +Men call the Past. It seems but yesterday<br /> +I saw fair August, laughing with the Sea,<br /> +Snaring the Earth with her seductive wiles,<br /> +And making conquest, even of the Sun.<br /> +Yet has she gone, and left me here to mourn.’<br /> +Then spake December, from an open door:<br /> +‘Father, the night grows cold; come in and rest.<br /> +Sit with me here beside this glowing grate;<br /> +I have not left thee; thou art not alone;<br /> +<a name="page95"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 95</span>My house +is thine; all warm with love and light,<br /> +And bright with holly and with cedar sweet.<br /> +My stalwart arm is thine to lean upon;<br /> +The feast is spread, I only wait for thee;<br /> +God smiles upon thy dead, smile thou on me.’<br /> +Then through the open door the Old Year passed<br /> +And darkness settled on the outer world.</p> +<h2><a name="page96"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +96</span>‘THE WAY’</h2> +<p class="poetry">However certain of the way thou art,<br /> +Take not the self-appointed leader’s part.<br /> +Follow no man, and by no man be led,<br /> +And no man lead. <i>Awake</i>, and go ahead.<br /> +Thy path, though leading straight unto the goal<br /> +Might prove confusing to another soul.<br /> +The goal is central; but from east, and west,<br /> +And north, and south, we set out on the quest;<br /> +From lofty mountains, and from valleys low:—<br /> +How could all find one common way to go?</p> +<p class="poetry">Lord Buddha to the wilderness was brought.<br +/> +Lord Jesus to the Cross. And yet, think not<br /> +By solitude, or cross, thou canst achieve,<br /> +Lest in thine own true Self thou dost believe.<br /> +Know thou art One, with life’s Almighty Source,<br /> +Then are thy feet set on the certain Course.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page97"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +97</span>Nor does it matter if thou feast, or fast,<br /> +Or what thy creed—or where thy lot is cast;<br /> +In halls of pleasure or in crowded mart,<br /> +In city streets, or from all men apart—<br /> +Thy path leads to the Light; and peace and power<br /> +Shall be thy portion, growing hour by hour.<br /> +Follow no man, and by no man be led.<br /> +And no man lead. But <i>know</i> and go ahead.</p> +<h2><a name="page98"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 98</span>THE +LEADER TO BE</h2> +<p class="poetry">What shall the leader be in that great day<br +/> +When we who sleep and dream that we are slaves<br /> +Shall wake and know that Liberty is ours?<br /> +Mark well that word—not yours, not mine, but ours.<br /> +For through the mingling of the separate streams<br /> +Of individual protest and desire,<br /> +In one united sea of purpose, lies<br /> +The course to Freedom.</p> +<p +class="poetry"> When +Progression takes<br /> +Her undisputed right of way, and sinks<br /> +The old traditions and conventions where<br /> +They may not rise, what shall the leader be?</p> +<p class="poetry">No mighty warrior skilled in crafts of war,<br +/> +Sowing earth’s fertile furrows with dead men<br /> +And staining crimson God’s cerulean sea,<br /> +To prove his prowess to a shuddering world.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page99"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +99</span>Nor yet a monarch with a silly crown<br /> +Perched on an empty head, an in-bred heir<br /> +To senseless titles and anemic blood.</p> +<p class="poetry">No ruler, purchased by the perjured votes<br /> +Of striving demagogues whose god is gold.<br /> +Not one of these shall lead to Liberty.<br /> +The weakness of the world cries out for strength.<br /> +The sorrow of the world cries out for hope.<br /> +Its suffering cries for kindness.</p> +<p +class="poetry"> He +who leads<br /> +Must then be strong and hopeful as the dawn<br /> +That rises unafraid and full of joy<br /> +Above the blackness of the darkest night.<br /> +He must be kind to every living thing;<br /> +Kind as the Krishna, Buddha and the Christ,<br /> +And full of love for all created life.<br /> +Oh, not in war shall his great prowess lie,<br /> +Nor shall he find his pleasure in the chase.<br /> +Too great for slaughter, friend of man and beast,<br /> +Touching the borders of the Unseen Realms<br /> +And bringing down to earth their mystic fires<br /> +To light our troubled pathways, wise and kind<br /> +And human to the core, so shall he be,<br /> +The coming leader of the coming time.</p> +<h2><a name="page100"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 100</span>THE +GREATER LOVE</h2> +<p class="poetry">Hear thou my prayer, great God of opulence;<br +/> +Give me no blessings, save as recompense<br /> +For blessings which I lovingly bestow<br /> +On needy stranger or on suffering foe.<br /> +If Wealth, by chance, should on my path appear,<br /> +Let Wisdom and Benevolence stand near,<br /> +And Charity within my portal wait,<br /> +To guard me from acquaintance intimate.</p> +<p class="poetry">Yet in this intricate great art of living<br /> +Guide me away from misdirected giving,<br /> +And show me how to spur the laggard soul<br /> +To strive alone once more to gain the goal.</p> +<p class="poetry">Repay my worldly efforts to attain<br /> +Only as I develop heart and brain;<br /> +Nor brand me with the ‘Dollar Sign’ above<br /> +A bosom void of sympathy and love.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page101"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +101</span>If on the carrying winds my name be blown<br /> +To any land or time beyond my own,<br /> +Let it not be as one who gained the day<br /> +By crowding others from the chosen way;<br /> +Rather as one who missed the highest place<br /> +Pausing to cheer spent runners in the race.<br /> +To do—to have—is lesser than to BE:<br /> +The greater boon I ask, dear God, from Thee.</p> +<h2><a name="page102"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +102</span>THANK GOD FOR LIFE</h2> +<p class="poetry">Thank God for life, in such an age as this,<br +/> + Rich with the promises of better things.<br /> +Thank God for being part of this great nation’s heart,<br +/> + Whose strong pulsations are not ruled by kings.</p> +<p class="poetry">Our thanks for fearless and protesting +speech<br /> + When cloven hoofs show ’neath the robes of +state.<br /> +For us no servile song of ‘Kings can do no wrong.’<br +/> + Not royal birth, but worth, makes rulers great.</p> +<p class="poetry">Thank God for peace within our border lands,<br +/> + And for the love of peace within each soul.<br /> +Who thinks on peace has wrought, mosaic-squares of thought<br /> + In the foundation of our future goal.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page103"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +103</span>Our thanks for love, and knowledge of love’s +laws.<br /> + Love is a greater power than vested might.<br /> +Love is the central source of all enduring force.<br /> + Love is the law that sets the whole world right.</p> +<p class="poetry">Our thanks for that increasing torch of +light<br /> + The tireless hand of science holds abroad.<br /> +And may its growing blaze shine on all hidden ways<br /> + Till man beholds the silhouette of God.</p> +<h2><a name="page104"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 104</span>TIME +ENOUGH</h2> +<p class="poetry">I know it is early morning,<br /> + And hope is calling aloud,<br /> +And your heart is afire with Youth’s desire<br /> + To hurry along with the crowd.<br /> +But linger a bit by the roadside,<br /> + And lend a hand by the way,<br /> +’Tis a curious fact that a generous act<br /> +Brings leisure and luck to a day.</p> +<p class="poetry">I know it is only the noontime—<br /> + There is chance enough to be kind;<br /> +But the hours run fast when noon has passed,<br /> + And the shadows are close behind.<br /> +So think while the light is shining,<br /> + And act ere the set of the sun,<br /> +For the sorriest woe that a soul can know<br /> + Is to think what it might have done.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page105"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +105</span>I know it is almost evening,<br /> + But the twilight hour is long.<br /> +If you listen and heed each cry of need<br /> + You can right full many a wrong.<br /> +For when we have finished the journey<br /> + We will all look back and say:<br /> +‘On life’s long mile there was nothing worth while<br +/> + But the good we did by the way.’</p> +<h2><a name="page106"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 106</span>NEW +YEAR’S DAY</h2> +<p class="poetry">When with clanging and with ringing<br /> + Comes the year’s initial day,<br /> +I can feel the rhythmic swinging<br /> + Of the world upon its way;<br /> +And though Right still wears a fetter,<br /> + And though Justice still is blind,<br /> +Time’s beyond is always better<br /> + Than the paths he leaves behind.</p> +<p class="poetry">In our eons of existence,<br /> + As we circle through the night,<br /> +We annihilate the distance<br /> + ’Twixt the darkness and the light.<br /> +From beginnings crude and lowly,<br /> + Round and round our souls have trod<br /> +Through the circles, winding slowly<br /> + Up to knowledge and to God.</p> +<p class="poetry">With each century departed<br /> + Some old evil found a tomb,<br /> +<a name="page107"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 107</span>Some old +truth was newly started<br /> + In propitious soil to bloom.<br /> +With each epoch some condition<br /> + That has handicapped the race<br /> +(Worn-out creed or superstition)<br /> + Unto knowledge yields its place.</p> +<p class="poetry">Though in folly and in blindness<br /> + And in sorrow still we grope,<br /> +Yet in man’s increasing kindness<br /> + Lies the world’s stupendous hope;<br /> +For our darkest hour of errors<br /> + Is as radiant as the dawn,<br /> +Set beside the awful terrors<br /> + Of the ages that have gone.</p> +<p class="poetry">And above the sad world’s sobbing,<br /> + And the strife of clan with clan,<br /> +I can hear the mighty throbbing<br /> + Of the heart of God in man;<br /> +And a voice chants through the chiming<br /> + Of the bells, and seems to say,<br /> +We are climbing, we are climbing,<br /> + As we circle on our way.</p> +<h2><a name="page108"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 108</span>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"><a name="page109"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +109</span>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 soul 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 as the 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 lead from and must lead back to God.</p> +<h2><a name="page110"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 110</span>IN +AN OLD ART GALLERY</h2> +<p class="poetry">Before the statue of a giant Hun,<br /> +There stood a dwarf, misshapen and uncouth.<br /> +His lifted eyes seemed asking: ‘Why, in sooth,<br /> +Was I not fashioned like this mighty one?<br /> +Would God show favour to an older son<br /> + Like earthly kings, and beggar without ruth<br /> + Another, who sinned only by his youth?<br /> +Why should two lives in such divergence run?’</p> +<p class="poetry">Strange, as he gazed, that from a vanished +past<br /> + No memories revived of war and strife,<br /> + Of misused prowess, and of broken +law.<br /> +That old Hun’s spirit, in the dwarf re-cast,<br /> + Lived out the sequence of an earthly life.<br /> + <i>It was the statue of himself he +saw</i>!</p> +<h2><a name="page111"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 111</span>TRUE +BROTHERHOOD</h2> +<p class="poetry">God, what a world, if men in street and mart<br +/> +Felt that same kinship of the human heart<br /> +Which makes them, in the face of flame and flood,<br /> +Rise to the meaning of true Brotherhood!</p> +<h2><a name="page112"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 112</span>THE +DECADENT</h2> +<p class="poetry">Among the virile hosts he passed along,<br /> +Conspicuous for an undetermined grace<br /> +Of sexless beauty. In his form and face<br /> +God’s mighty purpose somehow had gone wrong.<br /> +Then on his loom, he wove a careful song,<br /> + Of sensuous threads; a wordy web of lace<br /> + Wherein the primal passions of the race<br /> +And his own sins made wonder for the throng.</p> +<p class="poetry">A little pen prick opened up a vein,<br /> + And gave the finished mesh a crimson blot—<br +/> + The last consummate touch of +studied art.<br /> +But those who knew strong passion and keen pain,<br /> + Looked through and through the pattern and found +not<br /> + One single great emotion of the +heart.</p> +<h2><a name="page113"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +113</span>LORD, SPEAK AGAIN</h2> +<p class="poetry">When God had formed the Universe, He thought<br +/> +Of all the marvels therein to be wrought<br /> +And to His aid then Motherhood was brought.</p> +<p class="poetry">‘My lesser self, the feminine of Me,<br +/> +She will go forth throughout all time,’ quoth He,<br /> +‘And make My world what I would have it be.</p> +<p class="poetry">‘For I am weary, having laboured so,<br +/> +And for a cycle of repose would go<br /> +Into that silence which but God may know.</p> +<p class="poetry">‘Therefore I leave the rounding of My +plan<br /> +To Motherhood; and that which I began<br /> +Let woman finish in perfecting man.</p> +<p class="poetry">‘She is the soil: the human Mother +Earth:<br /> +She is the sun, that calls the seed to earth.<br /> +She is the gardener, who knows its worth.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page114"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +114</span>‘From Me, all seed, of any kind must spring.<br +/> +Divine the growth such seed and soil will bring.<br /> +For all is Me, and I am everything.’</p> +<p class="poetry">Thus having spoken to Himself aloud,<br /> +His glorious face upon His breast He bowed,<br /> +And sought repose behind a wall of cloud.</p> +<p class="poetry">Come forth, O God! though great Thy thought and +good,<br /> +In shaping woman for true Motherhood,<br /> +Lord, speak again; she has not understood.</p> +<p class="poetry">The centuries pass: the cycles roll +along—<br /> +The earth is peopled with a mighty throng,<br /> +Yet men are fighting and the world goes wrong.</p> +<p class="poetry">Lord, speak again, ere yet it be too late,<br +/> +Unloved, unwanted souls come through earth’s gate:<br /> +The unborn child is given a dower of hate.</p> +<p class="poetry">Thy world progresses in all ways save one.<br +/> +In Motherhood, for which it was begun,<br /> +Lord, Lord, behold how little has been done!</p> +<p class="poetry">Children are spawned like fishes in the +sand.<br /> +With ignorance and crime they fill the land.<br /> +Lord, speak again, till mothers understand.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page115"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +115</span>It is not all of Motherhood to know<br /> +Conception pleasure or deliverance woe.<br /> +Who plants the seed should help the shoot to grow.</p> +<p class="poetry">Better a barren soil than weed and tare,<br /> +Or sickly plants that die for want of care<br /> +In poisonous jungles, void of sun and air.</p> +<p class="poetry">True Motherhood is not alone to breed<br /> +The human race; it is to know and heed<br /> +Its holiest purpose and its highest need.</p> +<p class="poetry">Lord, speak again, so woman shall be stirred<br +/> +With the full meaning of that mighty word<br /> +True Motherhood. She has not rightly heard.</p> +<h2><a name="page116"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 116</span>MY +HEAVEN</h2> +<p class="poetry">Unhoused in deserts of accepted thought,<br /> + And lost in jungles of confusing creeds,<br /> + My soul strayed, homeless, finding its own needs<br +/> +Unsatisfied with what tradition taught.</p> +<p class="poetry">The pros and cons, the little ifs and ands,<br +/> + The but and maybe, and the this and that,<br /> + On which the churches thicken and grow fat,<br /> +I found but structures built on shifting sands.</p> +<p class="poetry">And all their heavens were strange and far +away,<br /> + And all their hells were made of human hate;<br /> + And since for death I did not care to wait,<br /> +A heaven I fashioned for myself one day.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page117"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +117</span>Of happy thoughts I built it stone by stone,<br /> + With joy of life I draped each spacious room,<br /> + With love’s great light I drove away all +gloom,<br /> +And in the centre I made God a throne.</p> +<p class="poetry">And this dear heaven I set within my heart,<br +/> + And carried it about with me alway,<br /> + And then the changing dogmas of the day<br /> +Seemed alien to my thoughts and held no part.</p> +<p class="poetry">Now as I take my heaven from place to place<br +/> + I find new rooms by love’s revealing light,<br +/> + And death will give me but a larger sight<br /> +To see my palace spreading into space.</p> +<h2><a name="page118"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +118</span>LIFE</h2> +<p class="poetry">On a bleak, bald hill with a dull world +under,<br /> + The dreary world of the Commonplace,<br /> +I have stood when the whole world seemed a blunder<br /> + Of dotard Time, in an aimless race.<br /> +With worry about me and want before me—<br /> + Yet deep in my soul was a rapture spring<br /> +That made me cry to the grey sky o’er me:<br /> + ‘Oh, I know this life is a goodly +thing!’</p> +<p class="poetry">I have given sweet years to a thankless duty<br +/> + While cold and starving, though clothed and fed,<br +/> +For a young heart’s hunger for joy and beauty<br /> + Is harder to bear than the need of bread.<br /> +I have watched the wane of a sodden season,<br /> + Which let hope wither, and made care thrive,<br /> +And through it all, without earthly reason,<br /> + I have thrilled with the glory of being alive.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page119"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +119</span>And now I stand by the great sea’s splendour,<br +/> + Where love and beauty feed heart and eye.<br /> +The brilliant light of the sun grows tender<br /> + As it slants to the shore of the by and by.<br /> +I prize each hour as a golden treasure—<br /> + A pearl Time drops from a broken string:<br /> +And all my ways are the ways of pleasure,<br /> + And I know this life is a goodly thing.</p> +<p class="poetry">And I know, too, that not in the seeing,<br /> + Or having, or doing the things we would,<br /> +Lies that deep rapture that comes from being<br /> + <i>At one with the Purpose which made all +good</i>.<br /> +And not from Pleasure the heart may borrow<br /> + That rare contentment for which we strive,<br /> +Unless through trouble, and want, and sorrow<br /> + It has thrilled with the glory of being alive.</p> +<h2><a name="page120"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +120</span>GOD’S KIN</h2> +<p class="poetry">There is no summit you may not attain,<br /> + No purpose which you may not yet achieve,<br /> + If you will wait serenely and believe<br /> +Each seeming loss is but a step toward gain.</p> +<p class="poetry">Between the mountain-tops lie vale and +plain;<br /> + Let nothing make you question, doubt or grieve;<br +/> + Give only good, and good alone receive;<br /> +And as you welcome joy, so welcome pain.</p> +<p class="poetry">That which you most desire awaits your word;<br +/> + Throw wide the door and bid it enter in.<br /> +Speak, and the strong vibrations shall be stirred;<br /> + Speak, and above earth’s loud, unmeaning +din<br /> +Your silent declarations shall be heard.<br /> + All things are possible to God’s own kin.</p> +<h2><a name="page121"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +121</span>CONQUEST</h2> +<p class="poetry">Talk not of strength, until your heart has +known<br /> +And fought with weakness through long hours alone.</p> +<p class="poetry">Talk not of virtue, till your conquering +soul<br /> +Has met temptation and gained full control.</p> +<p class="poetry">Boast not of garments, all unscorched by +sin,<br /> +Till you have passed, unscathed, through fires within.</p> +<p class="poetry">Oh, poor that pride the unscarred soldier +shows,<br /> +Who safe in camp, has never faced his foes.</p> +<h2><a name="page122"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 122</span>THE +STATUE</h2> +<p class="poetry">A granite rock in the mountain side<br /> +Gazed on the world and was satisfied.<br /> +It watched the centuries come and go.<br /> +It welcomed the sunlight, yet loved the snow.<br /> +It grieved when the forest was forced to fall,<br /> +Yet joyed when steeples rose, white and tall,<br /> +In the valley below it, and thrilled to hear<br /> +The voice of the great town roaring near.</p> +<p class="poetry">When the mountain stream from its idle play<br +/> +Was caught by the mill wheel and borne away<br /> +And trained to labour, the grey rock mused<br /> +‘Trees and verdure and stream are used<br /> +By Man the Master; but I remain<br /> +Friend of the mountain, and star, and plain,<br /> +Unchanged forever by God’s decree,<br /> +While passing centuries bow to me.’</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page123"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +123</span>Then all unwarned, with a mighty shock<br /> +Out of the mountain was wrenched the rock.<br /> +Bruised and battered and broken in heart,<br /> +It was carried away to the common mart,<br /> +Wrecked and ruined in piece and pride.<br /> +‘Oh, God is cruel,’ the granite cried,<br /> +‘Comrade of mountains, of stars the friend,<br /> +By all deserted, how sad my end.’</p> +<p class="poetry">A dreaming sculptor in passing by<br /> +Gazed at the granite with thoughtful eye.<br /> +Then stirred with a purpose supremely grand<br /> +He bade his dream in the rock expand.<br /> +And lo! from the broken and shapeless mass<br /> +That grieved and doubted, it came to pass<br /> +That a glorious statue of priceless worth<br /> +And infinite beauty, adorned the earth.</p> +<h2><a name="page124"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +124</span>SIRIUS</h2> +<blockquote><p>‘<i>Since Sinus crossed the Milky Way</i>, +<i>sixty thousand years have gone</i>.’—<span +class="smcap">Garrett</span> P. <span +class="smcap">Serviss</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p class="poetry">Since Sirius crossed the Milky Way<br /> + Full sixty thousand years have gone,<br /> +Yet hour by hour, and day by day,<br /> + This tireless star speeds on and on.</p> +<p class="poetry">Methinks he must be moved to mirth<br /> + By that droll tale of Genesis,<br /> +Which says creation had its birth<br /> + For such a puny world as this.</p> +<p class="poetry">To hear how One who fashioned all<br /> + Those Solar Systems, tier on tiers,<br /> +Expressed in little Adam’s fall<br /> + The purpose of a million spheres.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page125"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +125</span>And, witness of the endless plan,<br /> + To splendid wrath he must be wrought<br /> +By pigmy creeds presumptuous man<br /> + Sends forth as God’s primeval thought.</p> +<p class="poetry">Perchance from half a hundred stars<br /> + He hears as many curious things;<br /> +From Venus, Jupiter and Mars,<br /> + And Saturn with the beauteous rings,</p> +<p class="poetry">There may be students of the Cause<br /> + Who send their revelations out,<br /> +And formulate their codes of laws,<br /> + With heavens for faith and hells for doubt.</p> +<p class="poetry">On planets old ere form or place<br /> + Was lent to earth, may dwell—who +knows—<br /> +A God-like and perfected race<br /> + That hails great Sirius as he goes.</p> +<p class="poetry">In zones that circle moon and sun,<br /> + ’Twixt world and world, he may see souls<br /> +Whose span of earthly life is done,<br /> + Still journeying up to higher goals.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page126"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +126</span>And on dead planets grey and cold<br /> + Grim spectral souls, that harboured hate<br /> +Life after life, he may behold<br /> + Descending to a darker fate.</p> +<p class="poetry">And on his grand majestic course<br /> + He may have caught one glorious sight<br /> +Of that vast shining central Source<br /> + From which proceeds all Life, all Light.</p> +<p class="poetry">Since Sirius crossed the Milky Way<br /> + Full sixty thousand years have gone,<br /> +No mortal man may bid him stay,<br /> + No mortal man may speed him on.</p> +<p class="poetry">No mortal mind may comprehend<br /> + What is beyond, what was before;<br /> +To God be glory without end,<br /> + Let man be humble and adore.</p> +<h2><a name="page127"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 127</span>AT +FONTAINEBLEAU</h2> +<p class="poetry">At Fontainebleau, I saw a little bed<br /> +Fashioned of polished wood, with gold ornate,<br /> +Ambition, hope, and sorrow, ay, and hate<br /> +Once battled there, above a childish head,<br /> +And there in vain, grief wept, and memory plead<br /> + It was so small! but Ah, dear God, how great<br /> + The part it played in one sad woman’s fate.<br +/> +How wide the gloom, that narrow object shed.</p> +<p class="poetry">The symbol of an over-reaching aim,<br /> + The emblem of a devastated joy,<br /> + It spoke of glory, and a blasted +home:<br /> +Of fleeting honours, and disordered fame,<br /> + And the lone passing of a fragile boy.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry">* * * * *</p> +<p class="poetry">It was the cradle of the King of Rome.</p> +<h2><a name="page128"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 128</span>THE +MASQUERADE</h2> +<p class="poetry">Look in the eyes of trouble with a smile,<br /> + Extend your hand and do not be afraid.<br /> + ’Tis but a friend who comes to masquerade.<br +/> +And test your faith and courage for awhile.</p> +<p class="poetry">Fly, and he follows fast with threat and +jeer.<br /> + Shrink, and he deals hard blow on stinging blow,<br +/> + But bid him welcome as a friend, and lo!<br /> +The jest is off—the masque will disappear.</p> +<h2><a name="page129"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +129</span>SYMPATHY</h2> +<p class="poetry">Is the way hard and thorny, oh, my brother?<br +/> + Do tempests beat, and adverse wild winds blow?<br /> +And are you spent, and broken, at each nightfall,<br /> + Yet with each morn you rise and onward go?<br /> +Brother, I know, I know!<br /> +I, too, have journeyed so.</p> +<p class="poetry">Is your heart mad with longing, oh, my +sister?<br /> + Are all great passions in your breast aglow?<br /> +Does the white wonder of your own soul blind you,<br /> + And are you torn with rapture and with woe?<br /> +Sister, I know, I know!<br /> +I, too, have suffered so.</p> +<p class="poetry">Is the road filled with snare and quicksand, +pilgrim?<br /> + Do pitfalls lie where roses seem to grow?<br /> +<a name="page130"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 130</span>And have +you sometimes stumbled in the darkness,<br /> + And are you bruised and scarred by many a blow?<br +/> +Pilgrim, I know, I know!<br /> +I, too, have stumbled so.</p> +<p class="poetry">Do you send out rebellious cry and question,<br +/> + As mocking hours pass silently and slow,<br /> +Does your insistent ‘wherefore’ bring no answer,<br +/> + While stars wax pale with watching, and droop +low?<br /> +I, too, have questioned so,<br /> +But now <i>I know</i>, <i>I know</i>!<br /> +To toil, to strive, to err, to cry, to grow,<br /> +<i>To love through</i> all—this is the way to +<i>know</i>.</p> +<h2><a name="page131"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +131</span>INTERMEDIARY</h2> +<p class="poetry">When from the prison of its body free,<br /> +My soul shall soar, before it goes to Thee,<br /> +Thou great Creator, give it power to know<br /> +The language of all sad, dumb things below.<br /> +And let me dwell a season still on earth<br /> +Before I rise to some diviner birth:<br /> +Invisible to men, yet seen and heard,<br /> +And understood by sorrowing beast and bird—<br /> +Invisible to men, yet always near,<br /> +To whisper counsel in the human ear:<br /> +And with a spell to stay the hunter’s hand<br /> +And stir his heart to know and understand;<br /> +To plant within the dull or thoughtless mind<br /> +The great religious impulse to be kind.</p> +<p class="poetry">Before I prune my spirit wings and rise<br /> +To seek my loved ones in their paradise,<br /> +<a name="page132"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 132</span>Yea! +even before I hasten on to see<br /> +That lost child’s face, so like a dream to me,<br /> +I would be given this intermediate role,<br /> +And carry comfort to each poor, dumb soul:<br /> +And bridge man’s gulf of cruelty and sin<br /> +By understanding of his lower kin.<br /> +’Twixt weary driver and the straining steed<br /> +On wings of mercy would my spirit speed.<br /> +And each should know, before his journey’s end,<br /> +That in the other dwelt a loving friend.<br /> +From zoo and jungle, and from cage and stall,<br /> +I would translate each inarticulate call,<br /> +Each pleading look, each frenzied act and cry,<br /> +And tell the story to each passer-by;<br /> +And of a spirit’s privilege possessed,<br /> +Pursue indifference to its couch of rest,<br /> +And whisper in its ear until in awe<br /> +It woke and knew God’s all-embracing law<br /> +Of Universal Life—the One in All.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry">* * * * *</p> +<p class="poetry">Lord, let this mission to my lot befall.</p> +<h2><a name="page133"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +133</span>LIFE’S CAR</h2> +<p +class="poetry"> ‘Hurry +up!’<br /> +No lingering by old doors of doubt—<br /> + No loitering by the way,<br /> +No waiting a To-morrow car,<br /> + When you can board To-day.<br /> +Success is somewhere down the track;<br /> + Before the chance is gone<br /> +Accelerate your laggard pace,<br /> + Swing on, I say, swing on—<br /> + Hurry up!</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘Step +lively!’<br /> +Belated souls are following fast,<br /> + They shout and signal, ‘Wait.’<br /> +Conductor Time brooks no delay,<br /> + He rings the bell of Fate.<br /> +But you can give the man behind,<br /> + With one hand on the bar,<br /> +<a name="page134"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 134</span>A final +chance to brook defeat,<br /> + And board the moving car.<br /> + Step lively!</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘Move +up!’<br /> +Make way for others as you sit<br /> + Or stand. This crowded earth<br /> +Has room for every journeying soul<br /> + En route to higher birth.<br /> +Ay, room and comfort, if no one<br /> + Took double share or space,<br /> +Nor let his greed and selfishness<br /> + Absorb another’s place.<br /> + Move up!</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘Hold +fast!’<br /> +The jolting switch of obstacles<br /> + With jarring rails is near.<br /> +Stand firm of foot, be strong of grip,<br /> + Brace well and have no fear.<br /> +The Maker of the Car of Life<br /> + Foresaw that curve—Despair,<br /> +And hung the straps of faith, and hope<br /> + So you might grasp them there.<br /> + Hold fast!</p> +<h2><a name="page135"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +135</span>OPPORTUNITY</h2> +<p class="poetry">Send forth your heart’s desire, and work +and wait;<br /> +The opportunities of life are brought<br /> +To our own doors, not by capricious fate,<br /> +But by the strong compelling force of thought.</p> +<h2><a name="page136"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 136</span>THE +AGE OF MOTORED THINGS</h2> +<p class="poetry">The wonderful age of the world I sing—<br +/> +The age of battery, coil and spring,<br /> +Of steam, and storage, and motored thing.</p> +<p class="poetry">Though faith may slumber and art seem dead,<br +/> +And all that is spoken has once been said,<br /> +And all that is written were best unread;</p> +<p class="poetry">Though hearts are iron and thoughts are +steel,<br /> +And all that has value is mercantile,<br /> +Yet marvellous truths shall the age reveal.</p> +<p class="poetry">Ay, greater the marvels this age shall find<br +/> +Than all the centuries left behind,<br /> +When faith was a bigot and art was blind.</p> +<p class="poetry">Oh, sorry the search of the world for gods,<br +/> +Through faith that slaughters and art that lauds,<br /> +While reason sits on its throne and nods.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page137"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +137</span>But out of the leisure that men will know,<br /> +When the cruel things of the sad earth go,<br /> +A Faith that is Knowledge shall rise and grow.</p> +<p class="poetry">In the throb and whir of each new machine<br /> +Thinner is growing the veil between<br /> +The visible earth and the worlds unseen.</p> +<p class="poetry">The True Religion shall leisure bring;<br /> +And Art shall awaken and Love shall sing:<br /> +Oh, ho! for the age of the motored thing!</p> +<h2><a name="page138"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 138</span>NEW +YEAR</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Mortal</span>:</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘The night is cold, the +hour is late, the world is bleak and drear;<br /> + Who is it knocking at my door?’</p> +<p><span class="smcap">The New Year</span>:</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘I am Good +Cheer.’</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mortal</span>:</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘Your voice is strange; +I know you not; in shadows dark I grope.<br /> + What seek you here?’</p> +<p><span class="smcap">The New Year</span>:</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘Friend, let me in; my +name is Hope.’</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mortal</span>:</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘And mine is Failure; +you but mock the life you seek to bless.<br /> + Pass on.’</p> +<p><a name="page139"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 139</span><span +class="smcap">The New Year</span>:</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘Nay, open wide the +door; I am Success.’</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mortal</span>:</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘But I am ill and spent +with pain; too late has come your wealth.<br /> + I cannot use it.’</p> +<p><span class="smcap">The New Year</span>:</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘Listen, friend; I am +Good Health.’</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mortal</span>:</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘Now, wide I fling my +door. Come in, and your fair statements prove.’</p> +<p><span class="smcap">The New Year</span>:</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘But you must open, +too, your heart, for I am Love.’</p> +<h2><a name="page140"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +140</span>DISARMAMENT</h2> +<p class="poetry">We have outgrown the helmet and cuirass,<br /> +The spear, the arrow, and the javelin.<br /> +These crude inventions of a cruder age,<br /> +When men killed men to show their love of God,<br /> +And he who slaughtered most was greatest king.<br /> +We have outgrown the need of war!<br /> + Should men<br /> +Unite in this one thought, all war would end.</p> +<p class="poetry">Disarm the world; and let all Nations meet<br +/> +Like Men, not monsters, when disputes arise.<br /> +When crossed opinions tangle into snarls,<br /> +Let Courts untie them, and not armies cut.<br /> +When State discussions breed dissensions, let<br /> +Union and Arbitration supersede<br /> +The hell-created implements of War.<br /> +Disarm the world! and bid destructive thought<br /> +Slip like a serpent from the mortal mind<br /> +Down through the marshes of oblivion. Soon<br /> +A race of gods shall rise! Disarm! Disarm!</p> +<h2><a name="page141"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 141</span>THE +CALL</h2> +<p class="poetry">All wantonly in hours of joy,<br /> +I made a song of pain.<br /> +Soon Grief drew near, and paused to hear,<br /> +And sang the sad refrain,<br /> +Again and yet again.</p> +<p class="poetry">Then recklessly in my despair,<br /> +I sang of hope one day.<br /> +And Joy turned back upon life’s track,<br /> +And smiled, and came my way,<br /> +And sat her down to stay.</p> +<h2><a name="page142"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 142</span>A +LITTLE SONG</h2> +<p class="poetry">Oh, a great world, a fair world, a true world I +find it;<br /> +A sun that never forgets to rise,<br /> +On the darkest night, a star in the skies,<br /> +And a God of love behind it.</p> +<p class="poetry">Oh, a good life, a sweet life, a large life I +take it,<br /> +Is what He offers to you, and me;<br /> +A chance to do, and a chance to be,<br /> +Whatever we chose to make it.</p> +<p class="poetry">Oh, a far way, a high way, a sure way He leads +us;<br /> +And if the journey at times seems long,<br /> +We must trudge ahead, with a trustful song,<br /> +And know at the end He needs us.</p> +<h1><a name="page143"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 143</span>NEW +THOUGHT PASTELS</h1> +<h2><a name="page145"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 145</span>A +DIALOGUE</h2> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Mortal</span></p> +<p class="poetry">The world is full of selfishness and greed.<br +/> +Lord, I would lave its sin.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Spirit</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yea, mortal, earth of thy good help has +need.<br /> +Go cleanse <i>thyself</i> within.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Mortal</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Mine ear is hurt by harsh and evil speech.<br +/> +I would reform men’s ways.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Spirit</span></p> +<p class="poetry">There is but one convincing way to teach.<br /> +Speak <i>thou</i> but words of praise.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Mortal</span></p> +<p class="poetry">On every hand is wretchedness and grief,<br /> +Despondency and fear.<br /> +Lord, I would give my fellow men relief.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><a +name="page146"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 146</span><span +class="smcap">Spirit</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Be, then, all hope, all cheer.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Mortal</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Lord, I look outward and grow sick at heart,<br +/> +Such need of change I see.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Spirit</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Mortal, look <i>in</i>. Do thy allotted +part,<br /> +And leave the rest to ME.</p> +<h2><a name="page147"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 147</span>THE +WEED</h2> +<p class="poetry">A weed is but an unloved flower!<br /> + Go dig, and prune, and guide, and wait,<br /> + Until it learns its high estate,<br /> +And glorifies some bower.<br /> + A weed is but an unloved flower!</p> +<p class="poetry">All sin is virtue unevolved,<br /> + Release the angel from the clod—<br /> + Go love thy brother up to God.<br /> +Behold each problem solved.<br /> + All sin is virtue unevolved.</p> +<h2><a name="page148"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +148</span>STRENGTH</h2> +<p class="poetry">Who is the strong? Not he who puts to +test<br /> +His sinews with the strong and proves the best;<br /> +But he who dwells where weaklings congregate,<br /> +And never lets his splendid strength abate.</p> +<p class="poetry">Who is the good? Not he who walks each +day<br /> +With moral men along the high, clean way;<br /> +But he who jostles gilded sin and shame,<br /> +Yet will not sell his honour or his name.</p> +<p class="poetry">Who is the wise? Not he who from the +start<br /> +With Wisdom’s followers has taken part;<br /> +But he who looks in Folly’s tempting eyes,<br /> +And turns away, perceiving her disguise.</p> +<p class="poetry">Who is serene? Not he who flees his +kind,<br /> +Some mountain fastness, or some cave to find;<br /> +But he who in the city’s noisiest scene,<br /> +Keeps calm within—he only is serene.</p> +<h2><a name="page149"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +149</span>AFFIRM</h2> +<p class="poetry">Body and mind, and spirit, all combine<br /> +To make the Creature, human and divine.</p> +<p class="poetry">Of this great trinity no part deny.<br /> +Affirm, affirm, the Great Eternal I.</p> +<p class="poetry">Affirm the body, beautiful and whole,<br /> +The earth-expression of immortal soul.</p> +<p class="poetry">Affirm the mind, the messenger of the hour,<br +/> +To speed between thee and the source of power.</p> +<p class="poetry">Affirm the spirit, the Eternal I—<br /> +Of this great trinity no part deny.</p> +<h2><a name="page150"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 150</span>THE +CHOSEN</h2> +<p class="poetry">They stood before the Angel at the gate;<br /> + The Angel asked: ‘Why should you enter +in?’<br /> +One said: ‘On earth my place was high and great;’<br +/> + And one: ‘I warned my fellow-men from +sin;’<br /> +Another: ‘I was teacher of the faith;<br /> +I scorned my life and lived in love with death.’</p> +<p class="poetry">And one stood silent. +‘Speak!’ the Angel said;<br /> + ‘What earthly deed has sent you here +to-day?’<br /> +‘Alas! I did but follow where they led,’<br /> + He answered sadly: ‘I had lost my +way—<br /> +So new the country, and so strange my flight;<br /> +I only sought for guidance and for light.’</p> +<p class="poetry">‘You have no passport?’ +‘None,’ the answer came.<br /> + ‘I loved the earth, tho’ lowly was my +lot.<br /> +I strove to keep my record free from blame,<br /> + And make a heaven about my humble spot.<br /> +<a name="page151"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 151</span>A narrow +life; I see it now, too late;<br /> +So, Angel, drive me from the heavenly gate.’</p> +<p class="poetry">The Angel swung the portal wide and free,<br /> + And took the sorrowing stranger by the hand.<br /> +‘Nay, you alone,’ he said, ‘shall come with +me,<br /> + Of all this waiting and insistent band.<br /> +Of what God gave, you built your paradise;<br /> +Behold your mansion waiting in the skies.’</p> +<h2><a name="page152"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 152</span>THE +NAMELESS</h2> +<p class="poetry">Unnumbered gods may unremembered die;<br /> +A thousand creeds may perish and pass by;<br /> +Yet do I lift mine eyes to ONE on high.</p> +<p class="poetry">Unnamed be HE from whom creation came;<br /> +There is no word whereby to speak His name<br /> +But petty men have mouthed it into shame.</p> +<p class="poetry">I lift mine eyes, and with a river’s +force<br /> +My love’s full tide goes sweeping on its course<br /> +To that supreme and all-embracing Source.</p> +<p class="poetry">Then back through all those thirsting channels +roll<br /> +The mighty billows of the Over Soul.<br /> +And I am He, the portion and the Whole.</p> +<p class="poetry">As little streams before the flood-tide +flee,<br /> +As rivers vanish to become the sea,<br /> +The I exists no more, for I AM HE.</p> +<h2><a name="page153"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 153</span>THE +WORD</h2> +<p class="poetry">Oh, a word is a gem, or a stone, or a song,<br +/> + Or a flame, or a two-edged sword;<br /> +Or a rose in bloom, or a sweet perfume,<br /> + Or a drop of gall, is a word.</p> +<p class="poetry">You may choose your word like a connoisseur,<br +/> + And polish it up with art,<br /> +But the word that sways, and stirs, and stays,<br /> + Is the word that comes from the heart.</p> +<p class="poetry">You may work on your word a thousand weeks,<br +/> + But it will not glow like one<br /> +That all unsought, leaps forth white hot,<br /> + When the fountains of feeling run.</p> +<p class="poetry">You may hammer away on the anvil of thought,<br +/> + And fashion your word with care,<br /> +But unless you are stirred to the depths, that word<br /> + Shall die on the empty air.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page154"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +154</span>For the word that comes from the brain alone,<br /> + Alone to the brain will speed;<br /> +But the word that sways, and stirs, and stays,<br /> + Oh! that is the word men heed.</p> +<h2><a name="page155"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +155</span>ASSISTANCE</h2> +<p class="poetry">Lean on no mortal, Love, and serve;<br /> +(For service is love’s complement)<br /> +But it was never God’s intent,<br /> +Your spirit from its path should swerve,<br /> +To gain another’s point of view.<br /> +As well might Jupiter, or Mars<br /> +Go seeking help from other stars,<br /> +Instead of sweeping ON, as you.<br /> +Look to the Great Eternal Cause<br /> +And not to any man, for light.<br /> +Look in; and learn the wrong, and right,<br /> +From your own soul’s unwritten laws.<br /> +And when you question, or demur,<br /> +Let Love be your Interpreter.</p> +<h2><a name="page156"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +156</span>‘CREDULITY’</h2> +<p class="poetry">If fallacies come knocking at my door,<br /> +I’d rather feed, and shelter full a score,<br /> +Than hide behind the black portcullis, doubt,<br /> +And run the risk of barring one Truth out.</p> +<p class="poetry">And if pretension for a time deceive,<br /> +And prove me one too ready to believe,<br /> +Far less my shame, than if by stubborn act,<br /> +I brand as lie, some great colossal Fact.</p> +<p class="poetry">On my soul’s door, the latch-string hangs +outside;<br /> +Within, the lighted candle. Let me guide<br /> +Some errant follies, on their wandering way,<br /> +Rather, than Wisdom give no welcoming ray.</p> +<h2><a name="page157"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +157</span>CONSCIOUSNESS</h2> +<p class="poetry">God, what a glory, is this consciousness,<br /> +Of life on life, that comes to those who seek!<br /> +Nor would I, if I might, to others speak,<br /> +The fulness of that knowledge. It can bless,<br /> +Only the eager souls, that willing, press<br /> +Along the mountain passes, to the peak.<br /> +Not to the dull, the doubting, or the weak,<br /> +Will Truth explain, or Mystery confess.</p> +<p class="poetry">Not to the curious or impatient soul<br /> +That in the start, demands the end be shown,<br /> +And at each step, stops waiting for a sign;<br /> +But to the tireless toiler toward the goal,<br /> +Shall the great miracles of God be known<br /> +And life revealed, immortal and divine.</p> +<h2><a name="page158"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 158</span>THE +STRUCTURE</h2> +<p class="poetry">Upon the wreckage of thy yesterday<br /> +Design the structure of to-morrow. Lay<br /> +Strong corner stones of purpose, and prepare<br /> +Great blocks of wisdom, cut from past despair.<br /> +Shape mighty pillars of resolve, to set<br /> +Deep in the tear-wet mortar of regret.<br /> +Work on with patience. Though thy toil be slow,<br /> +Yet day by day the edifice shall grow.<br /> +Believe in God—in thine own self believe.<br /> +All that thou hast desired thou shalt achieve.</p> +<h2><a name="page159"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 159</span>OUR +SOULS</h2> +<p class="poetry">Our souls should be vessels receiving<br /> +The waters of love for relieving<br /> + The sorrows of men.</p> +<p class="poetry">For here lies the pleasure of living:<br /> +In taking God’s bounties, and giving<br /> + The gifts back again.</p> +<h2><a name="page160"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 160</span>THE +LAW</h2> +<p class="poetry">When the great universe was wrought<br /> +To might and majesty from naught,<br /> +The all creative force was—<br /> + +<i>Thought</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">That force is thine. Though desolate<br +/> +The way may seem, command thy fate.<br /> +Send forth thy thought—<br /> + +Create—<i>Create</i>!</p> +<h2><a name="page161"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +161</span>KNOWLEDGE</h2> +<p class="poetry">Would you believe in Presences Unseen—<br +/> + In life beyond this earthly life?<br /> +BE STILL: Be stiller yet; and listen. Set the screen<br /> + Of silence at the portal of your will.<br /> +Relax, and let the world go by unheard.<br /> +And seal your lips with some all-sacred word.</p> +<p class="poetry">Breathe ‘God,’ in any +tongue—it means the same;<br /> + LOVE ABSOLUTE: Think, feel, absorb the thought;<br +/> +Shut out all else; until a subtle flame<br /> + (A spark from God’s creative centre caught)<br +/> +Shall permeate your being, and shall glow,<br /> +Increasing in its splendour, till, YOU KNOW.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page162"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +162</span>Not in a moment, or an hour, or day<br /> + The knowledge comes; the power is far too great,<br +/> +To win in any desultory way.<br /> + No soul is worthy till it learns to wait.<br /> +Day after day be patient, then, oh, soul;<br /> +Month after month—till, lo! the goal! the goal!</p> +<h2><a name="page163"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +163</span>GIVE</h2> +<p class="poetry">Give, and thou shalt receive. Give +thoughts of cheer,<br /> + Of courage and success, to friend and stranger.<br +/> +And from a thousand sources, far and near,<br /> + Strength will be sent thee in thy hour of +danger.</p> +<p class="poetry">Give words of comfort, of defence, and hope,<br +/> + To mortals crushed by sorrow and by error.<br /> +And though thy feet through shadowy paths may grope,<br /> + Thou shalt not walk in loneliness or terror.</p> +<p class="poetry">Give of thy gold, though small thy portion +be.<br /> + Gold rusts and shrivels in the hand that keeps +it.<br /> +It grows in one that opens wide and free.<br /> + Who sows his harvest is the one who reaps it.</p> +<p class="poetry">Give of thy love, nor wait to know the worth<br +/> + Of what thou lovest; and ask no returning.<br /> +And wheresoe’er thy pathway leads on earth,<br /> + There thou shalt find the lamp of love-light +burning.</p> +<h2><a name="page164"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +164</span>PERFECTION</h2> +<p class="poetry">The leaf that ripens only in the sun<br /> +Is dull and shrivelled ere its race is run.<br /> +The leaf that makes a carnival of death<br /> +Must tremble first before the north wind’s breath.</p> +<p class="poetry">The life that neither grief nor burden knows<br +/> +Is dwarfed in sympathy before its close.<br /> +The life that grows majestic with the years<br /> +Must taste the bitter tonic found in tears.</p> +<h2><a name="page165"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +165</span>FEAR</h2> +<p class="poetry">Fear is the twin of Faith’s sworn foe, +Distrust.<br /> +If one breaks in your heart the other must.</p> +<p class="poetry">Fear is the open enemy of Good.<br /> +It means the God in man misunderstood.</p> +<p class="poetry">Who walks with Fear adown life’s road +will meet<br /> +His boon companions, Failure and Defeat.</p> +<p class="poetry">But look the bully boldly in the eyes,<br /> +With mien undaunted, and he turns and flies.</p> +<h2><a name="page166"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 166</span>THE +WAY</h2> +<p class="poetry">Between the finite and the infinite<br /> +The missing link of Love has left a void.<br /> +Supply the link, and earth with Heaven will join<br /> +In one continued chain of endless life.</p> +<p class="poetry">Hell is wherever Love is not, and Heaven<br /> +Is Love’s location. No dogmatic creed,<br /> +No austere faith based on ignoble fear<br /> +Can lead thee into realms of joy and peace.<br /> +Unless the humblest creatures on the earth<br /> +Are bettered by thy loving sympathy<br /> +Think not to find a Paradise beyond.</p> +<p class="poetry">There is no sudden entrance into Heaven.<br /> +Slow is the ascent by the path of Love.</p> +<h2><a name="page167"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +167</span>UNDERSTOOD</h2> +<p class="poetry">I value more than I despise<br /> + My tendency to sin,<br /> +Because it helps me sympathise<br /> + With all my tempted kin.</p> +<p class="poetry">He who has nothing in his soul<br /> + That links him to the sod,<br /> +Knows not that joy of self-control<br /> + Which lifts him up to God.</p> +<p class="poetry">And I am glad my heart can say,<br /> + When others trip and fall<br /> +(Although I safely passed that way),<br /> + ‘I understand it all.’</p> +<h2><a name="page168"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 168</span>HIS +MANSION</h2> +<p class="poetry">There was a thought he hid from all men’s +eyes,<br /> +And by his prudent life and deeds of worth<br /> +He left a goodly record upon earth<br /> +As one both pure and wise.</p> +<p class="poetry">But when he reached a dark unsightly door<br /> +Beyond the grave, there stood his secret thought.<br /> +It was the mansion he had built and brought<br /> +To dwell in, on that shore.</p> +<h2><a name="page169"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +169</span>EFFECT</h2> +<p class="poetry">An unkind tale was whispered in his ear.<br /> + He paused to hear.<br /> +His thoughts were food that helped a falsehood thrive,<br /> + And keep alive.</p> +<p class="poetry">Years dawned and died. One day by +venom’s tongue<br /> + His name was stung.<br /> +He cried aloud, nor dreamed the lie was spawn<br /> + Of thoughts long gone.</p> +<p class="poetry">Each mental wave we send out from the mind,<br +/> + Or base, or kind,<br /> +Completes its circuit, then with added force<br /> + Seeks its own source.</p> +<h2><a name="page170"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +170</span>THREE THINGS</h2> +<p class="poetry">Know this, ye restless denizens of earth,<br /> +Know this, ye seekers after joy and mirth,<br /> +Three things there are, eternal in their worth.</p> +<p class="poetry">Love, that outreaches to the humblest +things;<br /> +Work that is glad, in what it does and brings;<br /> +And faith that soars upon unwearied wings.</p> +<p class="poetry">Divine the Powers that on this trio wait.<br /> +Supreme their conquest, over Time and Fate.<br /> +Love, Work, and Faith—these three alone are great.</p> +<h2><a name="page171"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +171</span>OBSTACLES</h2> +<blockquote><p>‘The slothful man saith, There is a lion in +the way; a lion is in the street.’—<span +class="smcap">Proverbs</span> xxvi. 13.</p> +</blockquote> +<p class="poetry">There are no lions in the street;<br /> + No lions in the way.<br /> +Go seek the goal, thou slothful soul,<br /> + Awake, awake, I say.</p> +<p class="poetry">Thou dost but dream of obstacles;<br /> + In God’s great lexicon,<br /> +That word illstarred, no page has marred;<br /> + Press on, I say, press on.</p> +<p class="poetry">Nothing can keep thee from thine own<br /> + But thine own slothful mind.<br /> +To one who knocks, each door unlocks;<br /> + And he who seeks, shall find.</p> +<h2><a name="page172"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +172</span>PRAYER</h2> +<p class="poetry">Lean on thyself until thy strength is tried;<br +/> +Then ask God’s help; it will not be denied.</p> +<p class="poetry">Use thine own sight to see the way to go;<br /> +When darkness falls ask God the path to show.</p> +<p class="poetry">Think for thyself and reason out thy plan;<br +/> +God has His work and thou hast thine, oh, man.</p> +<p class="poetry">Exert thy will and use it for control;<br /> +God gave thee jurisdiction of thy soul.</p> +<p class="poetry">All thine immortal powers bring into play;<br +/> +Think, act, strive, reason, then look up and pray.</p> +<h2><a name="page173"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +173</span>CLIMBING</h2> +<p class="poetry">Who climbs the mountain does not always +climb.<br /> +The winding road slants downward many a time;<br /> +Yet each descent is higher than the last.<br /> +Has thy path fallen? That will soon be past.<br /> +Beyond the curve the way leads up and on.<br /> +Think not thy goal forever lost or gone.<br /> +Keep moving forward; if thine aim is right<br /> +Thou canst not miss the shining mountain height.<br /> +Who would attain to summits still and fair,<br /> +Must nerve himself through valleys of despair.</p> +<h2><a name="page174"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +174</span>‘THERE IS NO DEATH, THERE ARE NO DEAD’</h2> +<p style="text-align: center">(<i>Suggested by the book of Mr. +Ed. C. Randall</i>.)</p> +<p class="poetry">‘There is no death, there are no +dead.’<br /> + From zone to zone, from sphere to sphere,<br /> + The souls of all who pass from here<br /> +By hosts of living thoughts are led;<br /> +And dark or bright, those souls must tread<br /> + The paths they fashioned year on year.<br /> + For hells are built of hate or fear,<br /> +And heavens of love our lives have shed.</p> +<p class="poetry">Across unatlassed worlds of space,<br /> + And through God’s mighty universe,<br /> + With thoughts that bless or thoughts that curse,<br +/> +Each journeys to his rightful place.<br /> + Oh, greater truth no man has said,<br /> + ‘There is no death, there are no +dead.’</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page175"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +175</span>It lifts the mourner from the sod,<br /> + And bids him cast away the reed<br /> + Of some uncomforting poor creed,<br /> +And walk with Knowledge for a rod.<br /> +It bids the doubter seek the broad<br /> + Vast fields, where living facts will feed<br /> + All those whose patience proves their need<br /> +Of these immortal truths of God.</p> +<p class="poetry">It brings before the eyes of faith<br /> + Those realms of radiance, tier on tier,<br /> + Where our beloved ‘dead’ appear,<br /> +More beautiful because of ‘death.’<br /> + It speaks to grief: ‘Be comforted;<br /> + There is no death, there are no dead.’</p> +<h2><a name="page176"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +176</span>REALISATION</h2> +<p class="poetry">Hers was a lonely, shadowed lot;<br /> +Or so the unperceiving thought,<br /> +Who looked no deeper than her face,<br /> +Devoid of chiselled lines of grace—<br /> +No farther than her humble grate,<br /> +And wondered how she bore her fate.</p> +<p class="poetry">Yet she was neither lone nor sad;<br /> +So much of love her spirit had,<br /> +She found an ever-flowing spring<br /> +Of happiness in everything.</p> +<p class="poetry">So near to her was Nature’s heart<br /> +It seemed a very living part<br /> +Of her own self; and bud and blade,<br /> +And heat and cold, and sun and shade,<br /> +And dawn and sunset, Spring and Fall,<br /> +Held raptures for her, one and all.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page177"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +177</span>The year’s four changing seasons brought<br /> +To her own door what thousands sought<br /> +In wandering ways and did not find—<br /> +Diversion and content of mind.</p> +<p class="poetry">She loved the tasks that filled each +day—<br /> +Such menial duties; but her way<br /> +Of looking at them lent a grace<br /> +To things the world deemed commonplace.</p> +<p class="poetry">Obscure and without place or name,<br /> +She gloried in another’s fame.<br /> +Poor, plain and humble in her dress,<br /> +She thrilled when beauty and success<br /> +And wealth passed by, on pleasure bent;<br /> +They made earth seem so opulent.<br /> +Yet none of quicker sympathy,<br /> +When need or sorrow came, than she.<br /> +And so she lived, and so she died.</p> +<p class="poetry">She woke as from a dream. How wide<br /> +And wonderful the avenue<br /> +That stretched to her astonished view!<br /> +And up the green ascending lawn<br /> +A palace caught the rays of dawn.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page178"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +178</span>Then suddenly the silence stirred<br /> +With one clear keynote of a bird;<br /> +A thousand answered, till ere long<br /> +The air was quivering bits of song.<br /> +She rose and wandered forth in awe,<br /> +Amazed and moved by all she saw,<br /> +For, like so many souls who go<br /> +Away from earth, she did not know<br /> +The cord was severed.</p> +<p +class="poetry"> Down +the street,<br /> +With eager arms stretched forth to greet,<br /> +Came one she loved and mourned in youth;<br /> +Her mother followed; then the truth<br /> +Broke on her, golden wave on wave,<br /> +Of knowledge infinite. The grave,<br /> +The body and the earthly sphere<br /> +Were gone! Immortal life was here!<br /> +They led her through the Palace halls;<br /> +From gleaming mirrors on the walls<br /> +She saw herself, with radiant mien,<br /> +And robed in splendour like a queen,<br /> +While glory round about her shone.<br /> +‘All this,’ Love murmured, ‘is your +own.’</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page179"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +179</span>And when she gazed with wondering eye,<br /> +And questioned whence and where and why,<br /> +Love answered thus: ‘All Heaven is made<br /> +By thoughts on earth; your walls were laid,<br /> +Year after year, of purest gold;<br /> +The beauty of your mind behold<br /> +In this fair palace; ay, and more<br /> +Waits farther on, so vast your store.<br /> +I was not worthy when I died<br /> +To take my place here at your side;<br /> +I toiled through long and weary years<br /> +From lower planes to these high spheres;<br /> +And through the love you sent from earth<br /> +I have attained a second birth.<br /> +Oft when my erring soul would tire<br /> +I felt the strength of your desire;<br /> +I heard you breathe my name in prayer,<br /> +And courage conquered weak despair.<br /> +Ah! earth needs heaven, but heaven indeed<br /> +Of earth has just as great a need.’</p> +<p class="poetry">Across the terrace with a bound<br /> +There sped a lambkin and a hound<br /> +(Dumb comrades of the old earth land)<br /> +And fondled her caressing hand.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page180"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +180</span>‘YOU LOVED THEM INTO PARADISE’<br /> +Was answered to her questioning eyes;<br /> +‘You taught them love; love has no end!<br /> +Nor does love’s life on form depend.<br /> +If there be mortal without love,<br /> +He wakes to no new life above.<br /> +If love in humbler things exist,<br /> +It must through other realms persist<br /> +Until all love rays merge in HIM.<br /> +Hark! Hear the heavenly Cherubim!’</p> +<p class="poetry">Then hushed and awed, with joy so vast<br /> +It knew no future and no past,<br /> +She stood amidst the radiant throng<br /> +That came to swell love’s welcoming song—<br /> +This humble soul from earth’s far coast<br /> +The centre of the heavenly host.</p> +<p class="poetry">On earth they see her grave and say:<br /> +‘She lies there till the judgment day;’<br /> +Nor dream, so limited their thought,<br /> +What miracles by love are wrought.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> + +<div class="gapmediumline"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">Printed by +T. and A. </span><span class="GutSmall"><span +class="smcap">Constable</span></span><span class="GutSmall">, +Printers to His Majesty</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">at the Edinburgh University +Press.</span></p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS OF PROGRESS AND NEW THOUGHT +PASTELS***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 3228-h.htm or 3228-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/2/2/3228 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions 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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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.12.12.00*END* + + + + + +This etext was produced from the 1913 Gay and Hancock edition by +David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + + + +POEMS OF PROGRESS + +by Ella Wheeler Wilcox + + + + +Contents: + +Preface +The Land Between +Love's Mirage +The Need of the World +The Gulf Stream +Remembered +Helen of Troy +Lais when Young +Lais when Old +Existence +Holiday Songs +Astrolabius +Completion +Sleep's Treachery +Art versus Cupid +The Revolt of Vashti +The Choosing of Esther +Honeymoon Scene +The Cost +The Voice +God's Answer +The Edict of the Sex +The World-child +The Heights +On seeing 'The House of Julia' at Herculaneum +A Prayer +What is Right Living? +Justice +Time's Gaze +The Worker and the Work +Art thou Alive? +To-day +The Ladder +Who is a Christian? +The Goal +The Spur +Awakened! +Shadows +The New Commandment +Summer Dreams +The Breaking of Chains +December +'The Way' +The Leader to be +The Greater Love +Thank God for Life +Time Enough +New Year's Day +Life is a Privilege +In an Old Art Gallery +True Brotherhood +The Decadent +Lord, speak again +My Heaven +Life +God's Kin +Conquest +The Statue +Sirius +At Fontainebleau +The Masquerade +Sympathy +Intermediary +Life's Car +Opportunity +The Age of Motored Things +New Year +Disarmament +The Call +A Little Song + + + +PREFACE: LOVE'S LANGUAGE + + + +When silence flees before the voice of Love, +Of what expression does that god approve? +Is dulcet song or flowing verse his choice, +Or stately prose, made regal by his voice? +Speaks Love in couplets, or in epics grand? +And is Love humble, or does he command? + +There is no language that Love does not speak: +To-day commanding and to-morrow meek, +One hour laconic and the next verbose, +With hope triumphant and with doubt morose, +His varying moods all forms of speech employ. +To give expression to his painful joy, + +To voice the phases of his joyful pain, +He rings the changes on the poet's strain. +Yet not in epic, epigram or verse +Can Love the passion of his heart rehearse. +All speech, all language, is inadequate, +There are no words with Love commensurate. + + + +THE LAND BETWEEN + + + +Between the little Here and larger Yonder, + There is a realm (or so one day I read) +Where faithful spirits love-enchained may wander, + Till some remembering soul from earth has fled. +Then, reunited, they go forth afar, +From sphere to sphere, where wondrous angels are. + +Not many spirits in that realm are waiting; + Not many pause upon its shores to rest; +For only love, intense and unabating, + Can hold them from the longer, higher quest. +And after grief has wept itself to sleep, +Few hearts on earth their vital memories keep. + +Should I pass on, across the mystic border, + Let thy love link me to that pallid land; +I would not seek the heavens of finer order + Until thy barque had left this coarser strand. +How desolate such journeyings would be, +Though straight to Him, were they not shared by thee. + +Wert thou first called (dear God, how could I bear it?) + I should enchain thee with my love, I know. +Not great enough am I to free thy spirit + From all these tender ties, and bid thee go. +Nor would a soul, unselfish as thine own, +Forget so soon, and speed to heaven alone. + +On earth we find no joy in ways diverging; + How could we find it in the worlds unseen? +I know old memories from my bosom surging, + Would keep thee waiting in that Land Between, +Until together, side by side, we trod +A path of stars, in our great search for God. + + + +LOVE'S MIRAGE + + + +Midway upon the route, he paused athirst + And suddenly across the wastes of heat, + He saw cool waters gleaming, and a sweet +Green oasis upon his vision burst. +A tender dream, long in his bosom nursed, + Spread love's illusive verdure for his feet; + The barren sands changed into golden wheat; +The way grew glad that late had seemed accursed. + +She shone, the woman wonder, on his soul; + The garden spot, for which men toil and wait; + The house of rest, that is each heart's demand; +But when, at last, he reached the gleaming goal, + He found, oh, cruel irony of fate, + But desert sun upon the desert sand. + + + +THE NEED OF THE WORLD + + + +I know the need of the world, + Though it would not have me know. +It would hide its sorrow deep, + Where only God may go. +Yet its secret it can not keep; +It tells it awake, or asleep, +It tells it to all who will heed, +And he who runs may read. + The need of the world I know. + +I know the need of the world, + When it boasts of its wealth the loudest, +When it flaunts it in all men's eyes, + When its mien is the gayest and proudest. +Oh! ever it lies--it lies, +For the sound of its laughter dies +In a sob and a smothered moan, +And it weeps when it sits alone. + The need of the world I know. + +I know the need of the world. + When the earth shakes under the tread +Of men who march to the fight, + When rivers with blood are red +And there is no law but might, +And the wrong way seems the right; +When he who slaughters the most +Is all men's pride and boast. + The need of the world I know. + +I know the need of the world. + When it babbles of gold and fame, +It is only to lead us astray + From the thing that it dare not name, +For this is the sad world's way. +Oh! poor blind world grown grey +With the need of a thing so near, +With the want of a thing so dear. + The need of the world I know. + +The need of the world is love. + Deep under the pride of power, +Down under its lust of greed, + For the joys that last but an hour, +There lies forever its need. +For love is the law and the creed +And love is the unnamed goal +Of life, from man to the mole. + Love is the need of the world. + + + +THE GULF STREAM + + + +Skilled mariner, and counted sane and wise, + That was a curious thing which chanced to me, + So good a sailor on so fair a sea. +With favouring winds and blue unshadowed skies, +Led by the faithful beacon of Love's eyes, + Past reef and shoal, my life-boat bounded free + And fearless of all changes that might be +Under calm waves, where many a sunk rock lies. + +A golden dawn; yet suddenly my barque + Strained at the sails, as in a cyclone's blast; + And battled with an unseen current's force, +For we had entered when the night was dark + That old tempestuous Gulf Stream of the Past. + But for love's eyes, I had not kept the course. + + +REMEMBERED + + + +His art was loving; Eres set his sign + Upon that youthful forehead, and he drew + The hearts of women, as the sun draws dew. +Love feeds love's thirst as wine feeds love of wine; +Nor is there any potion from the vine + Which makes men drunken like the subtle brew + Of kisses crushed by kisses; and he grew +Inebriated with that draught divine. + +Yet in his sober moments, when the sun + Of radiant summer paled to lonely fall, + And passion's sea had grown an ebbing tide, +From out the many, Memory singled one + Full cup that seemed the sweetest of them all - + The warm red mouth that mocked him and denied. + + +HELEN OF TROY +ON THE ISLE OF CRANAE + + + +The world an abject vassal to her charms, +And kings competing for a single smile, +Yet love she knew not, till upon this isle +She gave surrender to abducting arms. +Not Theseus, who plucked her lips' first kiss, + Not Menelaus, lawful mate and spouse, + Such answering passion in her heart could rouse, +Or wake such tumult in her soul as this. +Let come what will, let Greece and Asia meet, + Let heroes die and kingdoms run with gore; + Let devastation spread from shore to shore - +Resplendent Helen finds her bondage sweet. +The whole world fights her battles, while she lies +Sunned in the fervour of young Paris' eyes. + +ON THE ISLE OF RHODES + +The battles ended, ardent Paris dead, + Of faithful Menelaus long bereft, + Time is the only suitor who is left: +Helen survives, with youth and beauty fled. +By hate remembered, but by love forgot, + Dethroned and driven from her high estate, + Unhappy Helen feels the lash of Fate +And knows at last an unloved woman's lot. +The Grecian marvel, and the Trojan joy, + The world's fair wonder, from her palace flies + The furies follow, and great Helen dies, +A death of horror, for the pride of Troy. + +* * * + +Yet Time, like Menelaus, all forgives. +Helen, immortal in her beauty, lives. + + + +LAIS WHEN YOUNG + + + +Lais when young, and all her charms in flower, + Lais, whose beauty was the fateful light + That led great ships to anchor in the night +And bring their priceless cargoes to her bower, +Lais yet found her cup of sweet turned sour. + Great Plato's pupil, from his lofty height, + Zenocrates, unmoved, had seen the white +Sweet wonder of her, and defied her power. + +She snared the world in nets of subtle wiles: + The proud, the famed, all clamoured at her gate; + Dictators plead, inside her portico; +Wisdom sought madness, in her favouring smiles; + Now was she made the laughing-stock of fate: + One loosed her clinging arms, and bade her go. + + + +LAIS WHEN OLD + + + +Lais, when old and all her beauty gone, +Lais, the erstwhile courted pleasure queen, +Walked homeless through Corinth. + One mocked her mien - +One tossed her coins; she took them and passed on. +Down by the harbour sloped a terraced lawn, + Where fountains played; she paused to view the scene. + A marble palace stood in bowers of green +'Twas here of old she revelled till the dawn. + +Through yonder portico her lovers came - + Hero and statesman, athlete, merchant, sage; + They flung the whole world's treasures at her feet +To buy her favour and exalt her shame. + +* * * + +She spat upon her dole of coins in rage + And faded like a phantom down the street. + + + +EXISTENCE + + + +You are here, and you are wanted, + Though a waif upon life's stair; +Though the sunlit hours are haunted + With the shadowy shapes of care. +Still the Great One, the All-Seeing +Called your spirit into being - +Gave you strength for any fate. +Since your life by Him was needed, +All your ways by Him are heeded - + You can trust and you can wait. + +You can wait to know the meaning + Of the troubles sent your soul; +Of the chasms intervening + 'Twixt your purpose and your goal; +Of the sorrows and the trials, +Of the silence and denials, + Ofttimes answering to your pleas; +Of the stinted sweets of pleasure, +And of pain's too generous measure - + You can wait the WHY of these. + +Forth from planet unto planet, + You have gone, and you will go. +Space is vast, but we must span it; + For life's purpose is TO KNOW. +Earth retains you but a minute, +Make the best of what lies in it; + Light the pathway where you are. +There is nothing worth the doing +That will leave regret or rueing, + As you speed from star to star. + +You are part of the Beginning, + You are parcel of To-day. +When He set His world to spinning + You were flung upon your way. +When the system falls to pieces, +When this pulsing epoch ceases, + When the IS becomes the WAS, +You will live, for you will enter +In the great Creative Centre, + In the All-Enduring Cause. + + + +HOLIDAY SONGS + + + +I + +Sailing away on a summer sea, + Out of the bleak March weather; +Drifting away for a loaf and play, + Just you and I together; +And it's good-bye worry and good-bye hurry +And never a care have we; +With the sea below and the sun above +And nothing to do but dream and love, + Sailing away together. + +Sailing away from the grim old town + And tasks the town calls duty; +Sailing away from walls of grey + To a land of bloom and beauty, +And it's good-bye to letters from our lessers and our betters, +To the cold world's smile or its frown. +We sail away on a sunny track +To find the summer and bring it back + And love is our only duty. + +II + +Afloat on a sea of passion + Without a compass or chart, +But the glow of your eye shows the sun is high, + By the sextant of my heart. +I know we are nearing the tropics + By the languor that round us lies, +And the smile on your mouth says the course is south + And the port is Paradise. + +We have left grey skies behind us, + We sail under skies of blue; +You are off with me on lovers' sea, + And I am away with you. +We have not a single sorrow, + And I have but one fear - +That my lips may miss one offered kiss + From the mouth that is smiling near. + +There is no land of winter; + There is no world of care; +There is bloom and mirth all over the earth, + And love, love everywhere. +Our boat is the barque of Pleasure, + And whatever port we sight +The touch of your hand will make the land + The Harbour of Pure Delight. + + + +ASTROLABIUS +(THE CHILD OF ABELARD AND HELOISE) + + + +I wrenched from a passing comet in its flight, + By that great force of two mad hearts aflame, + A soul incarnate, back to earth you came, +To glow like star-dust for a little night. +Deep shadows hide you wholly from our sight; + The centuries leave nothing but your name, + Tinged with the lustre of a splendid shame, +That blazed oblivion with rebellious light. + +The mighty passion that became your cause, + Still burns its lengthening path across the years; + We feel its raptures, and we see its tears +And ponder on its retributive laws. + Time keeps that deathless story ever new; + Yet finds no answer, when we ask of you. + +II + +At Argenteuil, I saw the lonely cell + Where Heloise dreamed through her broken rest, + That baby lips pulled at her undried breast. +It needed but my woman's heart to tell +Of those long vigils and the tears that fell + When aching arms reached out in fruitless quest, + As after flight, wings brood an empty nest. +(So well I know that sorrow, ah, so well.) + +Across the centuries there comes no sound + Of that vast anguish; not one sigh or word + Or echo of the mother loss has stirred, +The sea of silence, lasting and profound. + Yet to each heart, that once has felt this grief, + Sad Memory restores Time's missing leaf. + +III + +But what of you? Who took the mother's place + When sweet expanding love its object sought? + Was there a voice to tell her tragic lot, +And did you ever look upon her face? +Was yours a cloistered seeking after grace? + Or in the flame of adolescent thought + Were Abelard's departed passions caught +To burn again in you and leave their trace? + +Conceived in nature's bold primordial way + (As in their revolutions, suns create), + You came to earth, a soul immaculate, +Baptized in fire, with some great part to play. + What was that part, and wherefore hid from us, + Immortal mystery, Astrolabius! + + + +COMPLETION + + + +When I shall meet God's generous dispensers + Of all the riches in the heavenly store, +Those lesser gods, who act as Recompensers + For loneliness and loss upon this shore, +Methinks abashed, and somewhat hesitating, + My soul its wish and longing will declare. +Lest they reply: 'Here are no bounties waiting: + We gave on earth, your portion and your share.' + +Then shall I answer: 'Yea, I do remember + The many blessings to my life allowed; +My June was always longer than December, + My sun was always stronger than my cloud, +My joy was ever deeper than my sorrow, + My gain was ever greater than my loss, +My yesterday seemed less than my to-morrow, + The crown looked always larger than the cross. + +'I have known love, in all its radiant splendour, + It shone upon my pathway to the end. +I trod no road that did not bloom with tender + And fragrant blossoms, planted by some friend. +And those material things we call successes, + In modest measure, crowned my earthly lot. +Yet was there one sweet happiness that blesses + The life of woman, which to me came not. + +'I knew the hope of motherhood; a season + I felt a fluttering heart beat 'neath my own; +A little cry--then silence. For that reason + I dare, to you, my only wish make known. +The babe who grew to angelhood in heaven, + I never watched unfold from child to man. +And so I ask, that unto me be given + That motherhood, which was God's primal plan. + +'All womankind He meant to share its glories; + He meant us all to nurse our babes to rest. +To croon them songs, to tell them sleepy stories, + Else why the wonder of a woman's breast? +He must provide for all earth's cheated mothers + In His vast heavens of shining sphere on sphere, +And with my son, there must be many others - + My spirit children who will claim me here. + +'Fair creatures by my loving thoughts created - + Too finely fashioned for a mortal birth - +Between the borders of two worlds they waited + Until they saw my spirit leave the earth. +In God's great nursery they must be waiting + To welcome me with many an infant wile. +Now let me go and satisfy this longing + To mother children for a little while.' + + + +SLEEP'S TREACHERY + + + +As the grey twilight, tiptoed down the deep + And shadowy valley, to the day's dark end, + She whom I thought my ever-faithful friend, +Fair-browed, calm-eyed and mother-bosomed Sleep, +Met me with smiles. 'Poor longing heart, I keep + Sweet joy for you,' she murmured. 'I will send + One whom you love, with your own soul to blend +In visions, as the night hours onward creep.' + +I trusted her; and watched by starry beams, + I slumbered soundly, free from all alarms. + Then not my love, but one long banished came, +Led by false Sleep, down secret stairs of dreams + And clasped me, unresisting in fond arms. + Oh, treacherous sleep--to sell me to such shame! + + + +ART VERSUS CUPID + + + +[A room in a private house. A maiden sitting before a fire +meditating.] + +MAIDEN + +Now have I fully fixed upon my part. +Good-bye to dreams; for me a life of art! +Beloved art! Oh, realm serene and fair, +Above the mean and sordid world of care, +Above earth's small ambitions and desires! +Art! art! the very word my soul inspires! +From foolish memories it sets me free. +Not what has been, but that which is to be +Absorbs me now. Adieu to vain regret! +The bow is tensely drawn--the target set. +[A knock at the door.] + +MAID (aside) + +The night is dark and chill; the hour is late. +(Aloud) +Who knocks upon my door? + +A Voice Outside + +'Tis I, your fate! + +MAID + +Thou dost deceive, not me, but thine own self. +My fate is not a wandering, vagrant elf. +My fate is here, within this throbbing heart +That beats alone for glory, and for art. + +Voice +[Another knock at door.] + +Pray, let me in; I am so faint and cold. +[Door is pushed ajar. Enter CUPID, who aproaches the fire with +outstretched hands.] + +MAID (indignantly) + +Methinks thou art not faint, however cold, +But rather too courageous, and most bold; +Surprisingly ill-mannered, sir, and rude, +Without an invitation to intrude +Into my very presence. + +CUPID (warming his hands) + + But, you see, +Girls never mind a little chap like me. +They're always watching for me on the sly, +And hoping I will call. + +MAID (haughtily) + + Indeed, not I! +My heart has listened to a sweeter voice, +A clarion call that gives command--not choice. +And I have answered to that call, 'I come'; +To other voices shall my ears be dumb. +To art alone I consecrate my life - +Art is my spouse, and I his willing wife. + +CUPID (slowly, gazing in the grate) + +Art is a sultan, and you must divide +His love with many another ill-fed bride. +Now I know one who worships you alone. + +MAID (impatiently) + +I will not listen! for the dice is thrown +And art has won me. On my brow some day +Shall rest the laurel wreath-- + +CUPID (sitting down and looking at MAID critically) + + Just let me say +I think sweet orange blossoms under lace +Are better suited to your type of face. + +MAID (ignoring interruption) + +I yet shall stand before an audience +That listens as one mind, absorbed, intense, +And with my genius I shall rouse its cheers, +Still it to silence, soften it to tears, +Or wake its laughter. Oh, the play! the play! +The play's the thing! My boy, THE PLAY!! + +CUPID (suddenly clapping his hands) + + Oh, say! +I know a splendid role for you to take, +And one that always keeps the house awake - +And calls for pretty dressing. Oh, it's great! + +MAID (excitedly) + +Well, well, what is it? Wherefore make me wait? + +CUPID (tapping his brow, thoughtfully) + +How is it those lines run--oh, now I know; +You make a stately entrance--measured--slow-- +To stirring music, then you kneel and say +Something about--to honour and obey - +For better and for worse--till death do part. + +MAID (angrily) + +Be still, you foolish boy; that is not ART. + +CUPID (seriously) + +She needs great skill who takes the role of wife +In God's stupendous drama human life. + +MAID (suddenly becoming serious) + +So I once thought! Oh, once my very soul +Was filled and thrilled with dreaming of that role. +Life seemed so wonderful; it held for me +No purpose, no ambition, but to be +Loving and loved. My highest thought of fame +Was some day bearing my dear lover's name. +Alone, I ofttimes uttered it aloud, +Or wrote it down, half timid, and all proud +To see myself lost utterly in him: +As some small star might joy in growing dim +When sinking in the sun; or as the dew, +Forgetting the brief little life it knew +In space, might on the ocean's bosom fall +And ask for nothing--only to give all. + +CUPID (aside) + +Now, THAT'S the talk--it's music to my ear +After that stuff on 'art' and a 'career.' +I hope she'll keep it up. + +MAIDEN (continuing her reverie) + + Again my dream +Shaped into changing pictures. I would seem +To see myself in beautiful array +Move down the aisle upon my wedding day; +And then I saw the modest living-room +With lighted lamp, and fragrant plants in bloom, +And books and sewing scattered all about, +And just we two alone. + +CUPID (in glee aside) + + There's not a doubt +I'll land her yet! + +MAIDEN + + My dream kaleidoscope +Changed still again, and framed love's dearest hope - +The trinity of home; and life was good +And all its deepest meaning understood. + +[Sits lost in a dream. Behind scenes a voice sings a lullaby, +'Beautiful Land of Nod.' CUPID in ecstasy tiptoes about and clasps +his hands in delight.] + +Another scene! a matron in her prime, +I saw myself glide peacefully with time +Into the quiet middle years, content +With simple joys the dear home circle lent. +My sons and daughters made my diadem; +I saw my happy youth renewed in them. +The pain of growing old lost all its sting, +For Love stood near--in Winter, as in Spring. + +[CUPID tiptoes to door and makes a signal. MAIDEN starts up +dramatically.] + +'Twas but a dream! I woke all suddenly. +The world had changed! And now life means to me +My art--the stage--excitement and the crowd - +The glare of many foot-lights--and the loud +Applause of men, as I cry in rage, +'Give me the dagger!' or creep down the stage +In that sleep-walking scene. Oh, art like mine +Will send the chills down every listener's spine! +And when I choose, salt tears shall freely flow +As in the moonlight I cry, 'Romeo! Romeo! +Oh, wherefore art thou, Romeo?' + Ay, 'tis done +My dream of home life. + +CUPID + + It is but begun. + +MAIDEN + +The heart but once can dream a dream so fair, +And so henceforth love thoughts I do forswear; +Since faith in love has crumbled to the dust, +In fame alone, I put my hope and trust. + +[CUPID at the door beckons excitedly. Enter lover with outstretched +arms.] + +CUPID + +Here's one who will explain yourself to you +And make that old sweet dream of love come true. +Fix up your foolish quarrel; time is brief - +So waste no more of it in doubt or grief. + +[The lovers meet and embrace.] + +CUPID (in doorway) + +Warm lip to lip, and heart to beating heart, +The cast is made--My Lady has her part. + +CURTAIN + + + +THE REVOLT OF VASHTI +(FROM THE DRAMA OF MIZPAH) + + + +AHASUERAS + +Is this the way to greet thy loving spouse, +But now returned from scenes of blood and strife? +I pray thee raise thy veil and let me gaze +Upon that beauty which hath greater power +To conquer me than all the arts of war! + +VASHTI + +My beauty! Ay, my BEAUTY! I do hold, +In thy regard, no more an honoured place +Than yonder marble pillar, or the gold +And jewelled wine-cup which thy lips caress. +Thou wouldst degrade me in the people's sight! + +AHASUERAS + +Degrade thee, Vashti? Rather do I seek +To show my people who are gathered here +How, as the consort of so fair a queen, +I feel more pride than as the mighty king: +For there be many rulers on the earth, +But only ONE such queen. Come, raise thy veil! + +VASHTI + +Ay! only ONE such queen! A queen is one +Who shares her husband's greatness and his throne. +I am no more than yonder dancing girl +Who struts and smirks before a royal court! +But I will loose my veil and loose my tongue! +Now listen, sire--my master and my king; +And let thy princes and the court give ear! +'Tis time all heard how Vashti feels her shame. + +AHASUERAS + +Shame is no word to couple with thy name! +Shame and a spotless woman may not meet, +Even in a sentence. Choose another word. + +VASHTI + +Ay, SHAME, my lord--there is no synonym +That can give voice to my ignoble state. +To be a thing for eyes to gaze upon, +Yet held an outcast from thy heart and mind; +To hear my beauty praised but not my worth; +To come and go at Pleasure's beck and call, +While barred from Wisdom's conclaves! Think ye THAT +A noble calling for a noble dame? +Why, any concubine amongst thy train +Could play my royal part as well as I - +Were she as fair! + +AHASUERAS + + Queen Vashti, art thou MAD? +I would behead another did he dare +To so besmirch thee with comparison. + +VASHTI (to the court) + +Gaze now your fill! Behold Queen Vashti's eyes! +How large they gleam beneath her inch of brow! +How like a great white star, her splendid face +Shines through the midnight forest of her hair! +And see the crushed pomegranate of her mouth! +Observe her arms, her throat, her gleaming breasts, +Whereon the royal jewels rise and fall! - +And note the crescent curving of her hips, +And lovely limbs suggested 'neath her robes! +Gaze, gaze, I say, for these have made her queen! +She hath no mind, no heart, no dignity, +Worth royal recognition and regard; +But her fair body approbation meets +And whets the sated appetite of kings! +Now ye have seen what she was bid to show. +The queen hath played her part and begs to go. + +AHASUERAS + +Ay, Vashti, go and never more return! +Not only hast thou wronged thine own true lord, +And mocked and shamed me in the people's eyes, +But thou hast wronged all princes and all men +By thy pernicious and rebellious ways. +Queens act and subjects imitate. So let +Queen Vashti weigh her conduct and her words, +Or be no more called 'queen!' + +VASHTI + +I was a princess ere I was a queen, +And worthy of a better fate than this! +There lies the crown that made me queen in name! +Here stands the woman--wife in name alone! +Now, no more queen--nor wife--but woman still - +Ay, and a woman strong enough to be +Her own avenger. + + + +THE CHOOSING OF ESTHER +(FROM THE DRAMA OF MIZPAH) + + + +AHASUERAS + +Tell me thy name! + +ESTHER + +My name, great sire, is Esther. + +AHASUERAS + +So thou art Esther? Esther! 'tis a name +Breathed into sound as softly as a sigh. +A woman's name should melt upon the lips +Like Love's first kisses, and thy countenance +Is fit companion for so sweet a name! + +ESTHER + +Thou art most kind. I would my name and face +Were mine own making and not accident. +Then I might feel elated at thy praise, +Where now I feel confusion. + +AHASUERAS + + Thou hast wit +As well as beauty, Esther. Both are gems +That do embellish woman in man's sight. +Yet they are gems of second magnitude! +Dost THOU possess the one great perfect gem - +The matchless jewel of the world called LOVE? + +ESTHER + +Sire, in the heart of every woman dwells +That wondrous perfect gem! + +AHASUERAS + + Then, Esther, speak! +And tell me what is LOVE! I fain would know +Thy definition of that much-mouthed word, +By woman most employed--least understood. + +ESTHER + +What can a humble Jewish maiden know +That would instruct a warrior and a king? +I have but dreamed of love as maidens will +While thou hast known its fulness. All the world +Loves Great Ahasueras! + +AHASUERAS + + All the world +FEARS GREAT Ahasueras! Kings, my child, +Are rarely loved as anything but kings. +Love, as I see it in the court and camp, +Means seeking royal favour. I would know +How love is fashioned in a maiden's dreams. + +ESTHER + +Sire, love seeks nothing that kings can bestow. +Love is the king of all kings here below; +Love makes the monarch but a bashful boy, +Love makes the peasant monarch in his joy; +Love seeks not place, all places are the same, +When lighted by the radiance of love's flame. +Who deems proud love could fawn to power and splendour +Hath known not love, but some base-born pretender. + +AHASUERAS + +If this be love, I would know more of it. +Speak on, fair Esther! What is love beside? + +ESTHER + +Love is in all things, all things are in love. +Love is the earth, the sea, the skies above; +Love is the bird, the blossom, and the wind; +Love hath a million eyes, yet love is blind; +Love is a tempest, awful in its might; +Love is the silence of a moon-lit night; +Love is the aim of every human soul; +And he who hath not loved hath missed life's goal! + +AHASUERAS + +But tell me of thyself, of thine own dreams! +How wouldst thou love, and how be loved again? + +ESTHER + +Who most doth love thinks least of love's return; +She is content to feel the passion burn +In her own bosom, and its sacred fire +Consumes each selfish purpose and desire. +'Tis in the giving, love's best rapture lies, +Not in the counting of the things it buys. + +AHASUERAS + +Yet, is there not vast anguish and despair +In love that finds no answering word or smile? + +ESTHER + +So radiant is love, it lends a glow +To each dark sorrow and to every woe. +To love completely is to part with pain, +Nor is there mortal who can love in vain. +Love is its own reward, it pays full measure, +And in love's sharpest grief lies subtlest pleasure. + +AHASUERAS + +Methinks, a mighty warrior, lord or king +Must in thy fancy play the lover's part; +None else could wake such reverential thought. + +ESTHER + +When woman loves one born of lowly state, +Her thought gives crown and sceptre to her mate; +Yet be he king, or chief of some great clan, +She loves him but as woman loves a man. +Monarch or peasant, 'tis the same, I wis +When once she gives him love's surrendering kiss. + + + +HONEYMOON SCENE +(FROM THE DRAMA OF MIZPAH) + + + +AHASUERAS + +What were thy thoughts, sweet Esther? Something passed +Across thy face, that for a moment veiled +Thy soul from mine, and left me desolate. +Thy thoughts were not of me? + +ESTHER + + Ay, ALL of thee! +I wondered, if in truth, thou wert content +With me--thy choice. Was there no other one +Of all who passed before thee at thy court +Whose memory pursues thee with regret? + +AHASUERAS + +I do confess I much regret that day +And wish I could relive it. + +ESTHER + + Oh! My lord! + +AHASUERAS + +Yea! I regret those hours I wasted on +The poor procession that preceded thee. +Hadst thou come first, then all the added wealth + + Of one long day of loving thee were mine - +A boundless fortune squandered. Though I live +To three score years and ten, as I do hope, +In wedded love beside thee, that one day +Was filched from me and cannot be restored. + +ESTHER + +And then to think how frightened and abashed +I hung outside thy gates from early morn, +Not daring to go in and meet thine eyes, +Till pitying twilight clothed me in her veil, +And evening walked beside me to thy door. + +AHASUERAS + +So it was thou, fair thief, who stole that day, +And made me poorer, by--how many hours? + +ESTHER + +Full eight, I think. They seemed a hundred then, +And now time flies a hundred times too fast. + +AHASUERAS + +Then eight more kisses do I claim from thee, +This very hour--first tithes of many due. +I shall exact these payments as I will, +And if they be not ready on demand, +I'll lock thee in the prison of my arms, +Like this--and take them so--and so--and so! + +ESTHER + +But kings must think of other things than love +And live for other aims than happiness. +I would not drag thee from thy altitude +Of mighty ruler and great conqueror +To chain thee by my side. + +AHASUERAS + + Such slavery +Would please me better than to conquer earth +Without thee, Esther. I have stood on heights +And heard the cheers of multitudes below; +Have known the loneliness of being great. +Now, let me live and love thee, like a man, +Forgetting I am king - +I am content. + +ESTHER + +Content is not the pathway to great deeds. +As man, I hold thee higher than all kings; +As king, thou must stand higher than all men +In other eyes. Let no one say of me: +'She spoiled his greatness by her littleness; +She made a languorous lover of a king, +And silenced war-cries on commanding lips - +With honeyed kisses; made her woman's arms +Preferred to armour, and her couch to tents, +Until the kingdom, with no guiding hand, +Plunged down to ruin.' + +AHASUERAS + + Thou wouldst have me go - +So soon thy heart hath wearied? + +ESTHER + +My heart is bursting with its love for thee! +Canst thou not feel its fervour? But great men +Need wiser guidance than a woman's heart. +My pride in thee is equal to my love, +And I would have thee greater than thou art - +Ay, greater than all other men on earth - +Though forced long years to feed my hungry heart +On food of memories and wine of tears, +Wert thou but winning glory and renown. + +AHASUERAS + +Thou art most noble, Esther; thou art fit +To be the consort of a king of kings. +But I have chewed upon ambition's husks +And starved for love through all my manhood's years; +And now the mighty gods have seen it fit +To spread love's banquet and to name thee host, +May I not feast my fill? O Esther, take +The tempting nectar of those lips away +And give me wine to rouse the brute in me, +To make me thirst for blood instead of love! +Wine! Wine! I say! + +ESTHER + + Ahasueras, wait! +Methinks good music is wine turned to sound. +Here comes thy minstrel with an offering +Pressed from the ripened fruit of my fond heart. +Mine own the words and mine the melody +And may it linger longer in thine ear +Than on thy lip would stay the taste of wine. +Sing on! + +MINSTREL + +When from the field returning, +Love is a warrior's yearning, +Love in his heart is burning, + Love is his dream. +Talk not to him of glory, +Speak not of faces gory, +Sing of love's tender story, + Make it thy theme. +Sing of his lady's tresses, +Sing of the smile that blesses, +Sing of the sweet caresses, + And yet again +Sing of fair children's faces, +Sing of the dear home graces, +Sing till the vacant places, + Ring with thy strain. +Yet as the days go speeding, +Shall he arise unheeding +Love songs or words of pleading, + Strong in his might! +Helmet and armour wearing, +Hies he to deeds of daring, +Forth to the battle faring, + Back to the fight. +Sing now of ranks contending, +Sing of loud voices blending, +Sing of great warriors sending + Death to their foes! +Sing of war missiles humming, +Strike into martial drumming, +Sing of great victory coming, + As forth he goes. +Back to the battle faring, +Back into deeds of daring, + Back to the fight. + +AHASUERAS + +No less a lover but a greater man, +A better warrior and a nobler king, +I will be from this hour for thy dear sake. + + + +THE COST + + + +God finished woman in the twilight hour +And said, 'To-morrow thou shalt find thy place: +Man's complement, the mother of the race - + With love the motive power - + The one compelling power.' + +All night she dreamed and wondered. With the light +Her lover came--and then she understood +The purpose of her being. Life was good + And all the world seemed right - + And nothing was, but right. + +She had no wish for any wider sway: +By all the questions of the world unvexed, +Supremely loving and superbly sexed, + She passed upon her way - + Her feminine fair way. + +But God neglected, when He fashioned man, +To fuse the molten splendour of his mind +With that sixth sense He gave to womankind. + And so He marred His plan - + Ay, marred His own great plan. + +She asked so little, and so much she gave, +That man grew selfish: and she soon became, +To God's great sorrow and the whole world's shame, + Man's sweet and patient slave - + His uncomplaining slave. + +Yet in the nights (oh! nights so dark and long) +She clasped her little children to her breast +And wept. And in her anguish of unrest + She thought upon her wrong; + She knew how great her wrong. + +And one sad hour, she said unto her heart, +'Since thou art cause of all my bitter pain, +I bid thee abdicate the throne: let brain + Rule now, and do his part - + His masterful, strong part.' + +She wept no more. By new ambition stirred +Her ways led out, to regions strange and vast. +Men stood aside and watched, dismayed, aghast, + And all the world demurred - + Misjudged her, and demurred. + +Still on and up, from sphere to widening sphere, +Till thorny paths bloomed with the rose of fame. +Who once demurred, now followed with acclaim: + The hiss died in the cheer - + The loud applauding cheer. + +She stood triumphant in that radiant hour, +Man's mental equal, and competitor. +But ah! the cost! from out the heart of her + Had gone love's motive power - + Love's all-compelling power. + + + +THE VOICE + + + +I dreamed a Voice, of one God-authorised, +Cried loudly thro' the world, 'Disarm! Disarm!' +And there was consternation in the camps; +And men who strutted under braid and lace +Beat on their medalled breasts, and wailed, 'Undone!' +The word was echoed from a thousand hills, +And shop and mill, and factory and forge, +Where throve the awful industries of death, +Hushed into silence. Scrawled upon the doors, +The passer read, 'Peace bids her children starve.' +But foolish women clasped their little sons +And wept for joy, not reasoning like men. + +Again the Voice commanded: 'Now go forth +And build a world for Progress and for Peace. +This work has waited since the earth was shaped; +But men were fighting, and they could not toil. +The needs of life outnumber needs of death. +Leave death with God. Go forth, I say, and build.' + +And then a sudden, comprehensive joy +Shone in the eyes of men; and one who thought +Only of conquests and of victories +Woke from his gloomy reverie and cried, +'Ay, come and build! I challenge all to try. +And I will make a world more beautiful +Than Eden was before the serpent came.' +And like a running flame on western wilds, +Ambition spread from mind to listening mind, +And lo! the looms were busy once again, +And all the earth resounded with men's toil. + +Vast palaces of Science graced the world; +Their banquet tables spread with feasts of truth +For all who hungered. Music kissed the air, +Once rent with boom of cannons. Statues gleamed +From wooded ways, where ambushed armies hid +In times of old. The sea and air were gay +With shining sails that soared from land to land. +A universal language of the world +Made nations kin, and poverty was known + +But as a word marked 'obsolete,' like war. +The arts were kindled with celestial fire; +New poets sang so Homer's fame grew dim; +And brush and chisel gave the wondering race +Sublimer treasures than old Greece displayed. +Men differed still; fierce argument arose, +For men are human in this human sphere; +But unarmed Arbitration stood between +And Reason settled in a hundred hours +What War disputed for a hundred years. + +Oh, that a Voice, of one God-authorised +Might cry to all mankind, Disarm! Disarm! + + + +GOD'S ANSWER + + + +Once in a time of trouble and of care +I dreamed I talked with God about my pain; +With sleepland courage, daring to complain +Of what I deemed ungracious and unfair. +'Lord, I have grovelled on my knees in prayer + Hour after hour,' I cried; 'yet all in vain; + No hand leads up to heights I would attain, +No path is shown me out of my despair.' + +Then answered God: 'Three things I gave to thee - + Clear brain, brave will, and strength of mind and heart, + All implements divine, to shape the way. +Why shift the burden of thy toil on Me? + Till to the utmost he has done his part + With all his might, let no man DARE to pray.' + + + +THE EDICT OF THE SEX + + + +Two thousand years had passed since Christ was born, +When suddenly there rose a mighty host +Of women, sweeping to a central goal +As many rivers sweep on to the sea. +They came from mountains, valleys, and from coasts, +And from all lands, all nations, and all ranks, +Speaking all languages, but thinking one. +And that one language--Peace. + + 'Listen,' they said, +And straightway was there silence on the earth, +For men were dumb with wonder and surprise. +'Listen, O mighty masters of the world, +And hear the edict of all womankind: +Since Christ His new commandment gave to men, +LOVE ONE ANOTHER, full two thousand years +Have passed away, yet earth is red with blood. +The strong male rulers of the world proclaim +Their weakness, when we ask that war shall cease. +Now will the poor weak women of the world +Proclaim their strength, and say that war shall end. +Hear, then, our edict: Never from this day +Will any woman on the crust of earth +Mother a warrior. We have sworn the oath +And will go barren to the waiting tomb +Rather than breed strong sons at war's behest, +Or bring fair daughters into life, to bear +The pains of travail, for no end but war. +Ay! let the race die out for lack of babes +Better a dying race than endless wars! +Better a silent world than noise of guns +And clash of armies. + + 'Long we asked for peace, +And oft you promised--but to fight again. +At last you told us, war must ever be +While men existed, laughing at our plea +For the disarmament of all mankind. +Then in our hearts flamed such a mad desire +For peace on earth, as lights the world at times +With some great conflagration; and it spread +From distant land to land, from sea to sea, +Until all women thought as with one mind +And spoke as with one voice; and now behold! +The great Crusading Syndicate of Peace, +Filling all space with one supreme resolve. +Give us, O men, your word that war shall end: +Disarm the world, and we will give you sons - +Sons to construct, and daughters to adorn +A beautiful new earth, where there shall be +Fewer and finer people, opulence +And opportunity and peace for all. +Until you promise peace no shrill birth-cry +Shall sound again upon the aging earth. +We wait your answer.' + + And the world was still +While men considered. + + + +THE WORLD-CHILD + + + +At times I am the mother of the world; +And mine seem all its sorrows, and its fears. +That rose, which in each mother-heart is curled, + The rose of pity, opens with my tears, +And, waking in the night, I lie and hark + To the lone sobbing, and the wild alarms, +Of my World-child, a wailing in the dark: + The child I fain would shelter in my arms. +I call to it (as from another room + A mother calls, what time she cannot go): +'Sleep well, dear world; Love hides behind this gloom. + There is no need for wakefulness or woe, +The long, long night is almost past and gone, +The day is near.' And yet the world weeps on. + +Again I follow it, throughout the day. + With anxious eyes I see it trip and fall, +And hurt itself in many a foolish way: + Childlike, unheeding warning word or call. +I see it grasp, and grasping, break the toys + It cried to own, then toss them on the floor +And, breathless, hurry after fancied joys + That cease to please, when added to its store. +I see the lacerations on its hands, + Made by forbidden tools; but when it weeps, +I also weep, as one who understands; + And having been a child, the memory keeps. +Ah, my poor world, however wrong thy part, +Still is there pity in my mother-heart. + + + +THE HEIGHTS + + + +I cried, 'Dear Angel, lead me to the heights, + And spur me to the top.' + The Angel answered, 'Stop +And set thy house in order; make it fair +For absent ones who may be speeding there. + Then will we talk of heights.' + +I put my house in order. 'Now lead on!' + The Angel said, 'Not yet; + Thy garden is beset +By thorns and tares; go weed it, so all those +Who come to gaze may find the unvexed rose; + Then will we journey on.' + +I weeded well my garden. 'All is done.' + The Angel shook his head. + 'A beggar stands,' he said, +'Outside thy gates; till thou hast given heed +And soothed his sorrow, and supplied his need, + Say not that all is done.' + +The beggar left me singing. 'Now at last - + At last the path is clear.' + 'Nay, there is one draws near +Who seeks, like thee, the difficult highway. +He lacks thy courage; cheer him through the day + Then will we cry, "At last!"' + +I helped my weaker brother. 'Now the heights; + Oh, Guide me, Angel, guide!' + The Presence at my side, +With radiant face, said, 'Look, where are we now?' +And lo! we stood upon the mountain's brow - + The heights, the shining heights! + + + +ON SEEING 'THE HOUSE OF JULIA' AT HERCULANEUM + + + +Not great Vesuvius, in all his ire, +Nor all the centuries, could hide your shame. +There is the little window where you came, +With eyes that woke the demon of desire, +And lips like rose leaves, fashioned out of fire; + And from the lava leaps the molten flame + Of your old sins. The walls cry out your name - +Your face seems rising from the funeral pyre. + +There must have dwelt, within your fated town, + Full many a virtuous dame, and noble wife + Who made your beauty seem as star to sun; +How strange the centuries have handed down + Your name, fair Julia, of immoral life, + And left the others to oblivion. + + + +A PRAYER + + + +Master of sweet and loving lore, + Give us the open mind +To know religion means no more, + No less, than being kind. + +Give us the comprehensive sight + That sees another's need; +And let our aim to set things right + Prove God inspired our creed. + +Give us the soul to know our kin + That dwell in flock and herd, +The voice to fight man's shameful sin + Against the beast and bird. + +Give us a heart with love so fraught + For all created things, +That even our unspoken thought + Bears healing on its wings. + +Give us religion that will cope + With life's colossal woes, +And turn a radiant face of hope + On troops of pigmy foes. + +Give us the mastery of our fate + In thoughts so warm and white, +They stamp upon the brows of hate + Love's glorious seal of light. + +Give us the strong, courageous faith + That makes of pain a friend, +And calls the secret word of death + 'Beginning,' and not 'end.' + + + +WHAT IS RIGHT LIVING? + + + +What is right living? Just to do your best +When worst seems easier. To bear the ills +Of daily life with patient cheerfulness +Nor waste dear time recounting them. + To talk +Of hopeful things when doubt is in the air. +To count your blessings often, giving thanks, +And to accept your sorrows silently, +Nor question why you suffer. To accept +The whole of life as one perfected plan, +And welcome each event as part of it. +To work, and love your work; to trust, to pray +For larger usefulness and clearer sight. +This is right living, pleasing in God's eyes, +Though you be heathen, heretic or Jew. + + + +JUSTICE + + + +However inexplicable may seem + Event and circumstance upon this earth, +Though favours fall on those whom none esteem, + And insult and indifference greet worth; +Though poverty repays the life of toil, + And riches spring where idle feet have trod, +And storms lay waste the patiently tilled soil - + Yet Justice sways the universe of God. + +As undisturbed the stately stars remain + Beyond the glare of day's obscuring light, +So Justice dwells, though mortal eyes in vain + Seek it persistently by reason's sight. +But when, once freed, the illumined soul looks out. +Its cry will be, 'O God, how could I doubt!' + + + +TIME'S GAZE + + + +Time looked me in the eyes while passing by +The milestone of the year. That piercing gaze +Was both an accusation and reproach. +No speech was needed. In a sorrowing look +More meaning lies than in complaining words, +And silence hurts as keenly as reproof. + +Oh, opulent, kind giver of rich hours, +How have I used thy benefits! As babes +Unstring a necklace, laughing at the sound +Of priceless jewels dropping one by one, +So have I laughed while precious moments rolled +Into the hidden corners of the past. +And I have let large opportunities +For high endeavour move unheeded by, +While little joys and cares absorbed my strength. + +And yet, dear Time, set to my credit this: +NOT ONE WHITE HOUR HAVE I MADE BLACK WITH HATE, +NOR WISHED ONE LIVING CREATURE AUGHT BUT GOOD. +Be patient with me. Though the sun slants west, +The day has not yet finished, and I feel +Necessity for action and resolve +Bear in upon my consciousness. I know +The earth's eternal need of earnest souls, +And the great hunger of the world for Love. +I know the goal to high achievement lies +Through the dull pathway of self-conquest first; +And on the stairs of little duties done +We climb to joys that stand thy test. O Time, +Be patient with me, and another day, +Perchance, in passing by, thine eyes may smile. + + + +THE WORKER AND THE WORK + + + +In what I do I note the marring flaw, +The imperfections of the work I see; +Nor am I one who rather DO than BE, +Since its reversal is Creation's law. + +Nay, since there lies a better and a worse, +A lesser and a larger, in men's view, +I would be better than the thing I do, +As God is greater than His universe. + +He shaped Himself before He shaped one world: +A million eons, toiling day and night, +He built Himself to majesty and might, +Before the planets into space were hurled. + +And when Creation's early work was done, +What crude beginnings out of chaos came - +A formless nebula, a wavering flame, +An errant comet, a voracious sun. + +And, still unable to perfect His plan, +What awful creatures at His touch found birth - +Those protoplasmic monsters of the earth, +That owned the world before He fashioned Man. + +And now, behold the poor unfinished state +Of this, His latest masterpiece! Then why, +Seeing the flaws in my own work, should I +Be troubled that no voice proclaims it great? + +Before me lie the cycling rounds of years; +With this small earth will die the thing I do: +The thing I am, goes journeying onward through +A million lives, upon a million spheres. + +My work I build, as best I can and may, +Knowing all mortal effort ends in dust. +I build myself, not as I may, but must, +Knowing, or good, or ill, that self must stay. + +Along the ages, out, and on, afar, +Its journey leads, and must perforce be made. +Likewise its choice, with things of shame and shade, +Or up the path of light, from star to star. + +When all these solar systems shall disperse, +Perchance this labour, and this self-control, +May find reward; and my completed soul +Will fling in space, a little universe. + + + +ART THOU ALIVE? + + + +Art thou alive? Nay, not too soon reply, +Tho' hand, and foot, and lip, and ear, and eye, +Respond, and do thy bidding yet may be +Grim death has done his direst work with thee. +Life, as God gives it, is a thing apart +From active body and from beating heart. +It is the vital spark, the unseen fire, +That moves the mind to reason and aspire; +It is the force that bids emotion roll, +In mighty billows from the surging soul. + +It is the light that grows from hour to hour, +And floods the brain with consciousness of power; +It is the spirit dominating all, +And reaching God with its imperious call, +Until the shining glory of His face +Illuminates each sorrowful, dark place; + +It is the truth that sets the bondsman free, +Knowing he will be what he wills to be. +With its unburied dead the earth is sad. +Art thou alive? proclaim it and be glad. +Perchance the dead may hear thee and arise, +Knowing they live, and HERE is Paradise. + + + +TO-DAY + + + +I love this age of energy and force, + Expectantly I greet each pregnant hour; +Emerging from the all-creative source, + Supreme with promise, imminent with power. +The strident whistle and the clanging bell, + The noise of gongs, the rush of motored things +Are but the prophet voices which foretell + A time when thought may use unfettered wings. + +Too long the drudgery of earth has been + A barrier 'twixt man and his own mind. +Remove the stone, and lo! the Christ within; + For He is there, and who so seeks shall find. +The Great Inventor is the Modern Priest. + He paves the pathway to a higher goal. +Once from the grind of endless toil released + Man will explore the kingdom of his soul. + +And all this restless rush, this strain and strife, + This noise and glare is but the fanfarade +That ushers in the more majestic life + Where faith shall walk with science, unafraid. +I feel the strong vibrations of the earth, + I sense the coming of an hour sublime, +And bless the star that watched above my birth + And let me live in this important time. + + + +THE LADDER + + + +Unto each mortal who comes to earth +A ladder is given by God, at birth, +And up this ladder the soul must go, +Step by step, from the valley below; +Step by step, to the centre of space, +On this ladder of lives, to the Starting Place. + +In time departed (which yet endures) +I shaped my ladder, and you shaped yours. +Whatever they are--they are what we made: +A ladder of light, or a ladder of shade, +A ladder of love, or a hateful thing, +A ladder of strength, or a wavering string. +A ladder of gold, or a ladder of straw, +Each is the ladder of righteous law. + +We flung them away at the call of death, +We took them again with the next life breath. +For a keeper stands by the great birth gates; +As each soul passes, its ladder waits. +Though mine be narrow, and yours be broad, +On my ladder alone can I climb to God. +On your ladder alone can your feet ascend, +For none may borrow, and none may lend. + +If toil and trouble and pain are found, +Twisted and corded, to form each round, +If rusted iron or mouldering wood +Is the fragile frame, you must make it good. +You must build it over and fashion it strong, +Though the task be hard as your life is long; +For up this ladder the pathway leads +To earthly pleasures and spirit needs; +And all that may come in another way +Shall be but illusion, and will not stay. + +In useless effort, then, waste no time; +Rebuild your ladder, and climb and climb. + + + +WHO IS A CHRISTIAN? + + + +Who is a Christian in this Christian land +Of many churches and of lofty spires? +Not he who sits in soft upholstered pews +Bought by the profits of unholy greed, +And looks devotion, while he thinks of gain. +Not he who sends petitions from the lips +That lie to-morrow in the street and mart. +Not he who fattens on another's toil, +And flings his unearned riches to the poor, +Or aids the heathen with a lessened wage, +And builds cathedrals with an increased rent. + +Christ, with Thy great, sweet, simple creed of love, +How must Thou weary of Earth's 'Christian' clans, +Who preach salvation through Thy saving blood +While planning slaughter of their fellow men. +Who is a Christian? It is one whose life +Is built on love, on kindness and on faith; +Who holds his brother as his other self; +Who toils for justice, equity and PEACE, +And hides no aim or purpose in his heart +That will not chord with universal good. + +Though he be pagan, heretic or Jew, +That man is Christian and beloved of Christ. + + + +THE GOAL + + + +All your wonderful inventions, + All your houses vast and tall, +All your great gun-fronted vessels, + Every fort and every wall, +With the passing of the ages, + They shall pass and they shall fall. + +As you sit among the idols + That your avarice gave birth, +As you count the hoarded treasures + That you think of priceless worth, +Time is digging tombs to hide them + In the bosom of the earth. + +There shall come a great convulsion + Or a rushing tidal wave, +Or a sound of mighty thunders + From a subterranean cave, +And a boasting world's possessions + Shall be buried in one grave. + +From the Centuries of Silence + We are bringing back again +Buried vase and bust and column + And the gods they worshipped then, +In the strange unmentioned cities + Built by prehistoric men. + +Did they steal, and lie, and slaughter? + Did they steep their souls in shame? +Did they sell eternal virtues + Just to win a passing fame? +Did they give the gold of honour + For the tinsel of a name? + +We are hurrying all together + Toward the silence and the night; +There is nothing worth the seeking + But the sun-kissed moral height - +There is nothing worth the doing + But the doing of the RIGHT. + + + +THE SPUR + + + +I asked the rock beside the road what joy existence lent. +It answered, 'For a million years my heart has been content.' + +I asked the truffle-seeking swine, as rooting by he went, +'What is the keynote of your life?' He grunted out, 'Content.' + +I asked a slave, who toiled and sung, just what his singing meant. +He plodded on his changeless way, and said, 'I am content.' + +I asked a plutocrat of greed, on what his thoughts were bent. +He chinked the silver in his purse, and said, 'I am content.' + +I asked the mighty forest tree from whence its force was sent. +Its thousand branches spoke as one, and said, 'From discontent.' + +I asked the message speeding on, by what great law was rent +God's secret from the waves of space. It said, 'From discontent.' + +I asked the marble, where the works of God and man were blent, +What brought the statue from the block. It answered, 'Discontent.' + +I asked an Angel, looking down on earth with gaze intent, +How man should rise to larger growth. Quoth he, 'Through +discontent.' + + + +AWAKENED! + + + +Slowly the People waken; they have been, +Like weary soldiers, sleeping in their tents, +While traitors tiptoed through the silent camp +Intent on plunder. Suddenly a sound - +A careless movement of too bold a thief - +Starts one dull sleeper; then another stirs, +A third cries out a warning, and at last +The people are awake! Oh, when as one +The many rise, united and alert, +With Justice for their motto, they reflect +The mighty force of God's Omnipotence. +And nothing stands before them. Lusty Greed, +Tyrannical Corruption long in power, +And smirking Cant (whose right hand robs and slays +So that the left may dower Church and School), +Monopoly, whose mandate took from Toil +The Mother Earth, that Idleness might loll +And breed the Monster of Colossal Wealth - +All these must fall before the gathering Force +Of public indignation. That old strife +Which marks the progress of each century, +The war of Right with Might, is on once more, +And shame to him who does not take his stand. + +This is the weightiest moment of all time, +And on the issues of the present hour +A nation's honour and a country's peace, +A People's future, ay, a World's, depends. + +Until the vital questions of the day +Are solved and settled, and the spendthrift thieves +Who rob the coffers of the saving poor +Are led from fashion's feasts to prison fare, +And taught the saving grace of honest work - +Till Labour claims the privilege of toil +And toil the proceeds of its labour shares - +Let no man sleep, let no man dare to sleep! + + + +SHADOWS + + + +I am sorry in the gladness + Of the joys that crown my days, +For the souls that sit in sadness + Or walk uninviting ways. + +On the radiance of my labour + That a loving fate bestowed, +Falls the shadow of my neighbour, + Crushed beneath a thankless load. + +As the canticle of pleasure + From my lovelit altar rolls, +There is one discordant measure, + As I think of homeless souls. + +And I know that grim old story, + Preached from pulpits, is not so, +For no God could sit in glory + And see sinners writhe below. + +In that great eternal Centre + Where all human life has birth, +Boundless love and pity enter + And flow downward to the earth. + +And all souls in sin or sorrow + Are but passing through the night, +And I know on some to-morrow + God will love them into light. + + + +THE NEW COMMANDMENT + + + +'Let go the Cross'--GERTRUDE RUNSHON. + +I heard a strange voice in the distance calling +As from a star an echo might be falling. + +It spoke four syllables, concise and brief, +Charged with a God-sent message of relief: + +Let go the cross! Oh, you who cling to sorrow, +Hark to the new command and comfort borrow. + +Even as the Master left His cross below +And rose to Paradise, let go, let go. + +Forget your wrongs, your troubles and your losses, +For with the tools of thought we build our crosses. + +Forget your griefs, all grudges and all fear +And enter Paradise--its gates are near. + +Heaven is a realm by loving souls created, +And hell was fashioned by the hearts that hated. + +Love, hope and trust; believe all joys are yours, +Life pays the soul whose confidence endures, + +The blows of adverse fate, by larger pleasures, +As after storms the soil yields fuller measures. + +Let go the cross; roll self--the stone--away +And dwell with Love in Paradise to-day. + + + +SUMMER DREAMS + + + +When the Summer sun is shining, + And the green things push and grow, +Oft my heart runs over measure, +With its flowing fount of pleasure, + As I feel the sea winds blow; + Ah, then life is good, I know. + +And I think of sweet birds building, + And of children fair and free; +And of glowing sun-kissed meadows, +And of tender twilight shadows, + And of boats upon the sea. + Oh, then life seems good to me! + +Then unbidden and unwanted, + Come the darker, sadder sights; +City shop and stifling alley, +Where misfortune's children rally; + And the hot crime-breeding nights, + And the dearth of God's delights. + +And I think of narrow prisons + Where unhappy songbirds dwell, +And of cruel pens and cages +Where some captured wild thing rages + Like a madman in his cell, + In the Zoo, the wild beasts' hell. + +And I long to lift the burden + Of man's selfishness and sin; +And to open wide earth's treasures +Of God's storehouse, full of pleasures, + For my dumb and human kin, + And to ask the whole world in. + + + +THE BREAKING OF CHAINS + + + +Between the ringing of bells and the musical clang of chimes +I hear a sound like the breaking of chains, all through these +Christmas times. +For the thought of the world is waking out of a slumber deep and +long, +And the race is beginning to understand how Right can master Wrong. + +And the eyes of the world are opening wide, and great are the truths +they see; +And the heart of the world is singing a song, and its burden is 'Be +free!' +Now the thought of the world and the wish of the world and the song +of the world will make +A force so strong that the fetters forged for a million years must +break. + +Fetters of superstitious fear have bound the race to creeds +That hindered the upward march of man to the larger faith he needs. +Fetters of greed and pride have made the race bow down to kings; +But the pompous creed and the costly throne must yield to simpler +things. + +The thought of the world has climbed above old paths for centuries +trod; +And cloth and crown no longer mean the 'vested power of God.' +The race no longer bends beneath the weight of Adam's sin, +But stands erect and knows itself the Maker's first of kin. + +And the need of the world and the wish of the world and the song of +the world I hear, +All through the clanging and clashing of bells, this Christmas time +o' the year; +And I hear a sound like the breaking of chains, and it seems to say +to me, +In the voice of One who spoke of old, 'The Truth shall make men +free.' + + + +DECEMBER + + + +Upon December's windy portico +The Old Year stood, and looked out where the sun +Went wading down the West, through drifting clouds. +'I, too, shall sink full soon to rest,' he sighed, +'And follow where my children's feet have trod; +Brave January, beauteous May and June, +My lovely daughters, and my valiant sons, +All, all save one, have left me for that bourne +Men call the Past. It seems but yesterday +I saw fair August, laughing with the Sea, +Snaring the Earth with her seductive wiles, +And making conquest, even of the Sun. +Yet has she gone, and left me here to mourn.' +Then spake December, from an open door: +'Father, the night grows cold; come in and rest. +Sit with me here beside this glowing grate; +I have not left thee; thou art not alone; +My house is thine; all warm with love and light, +And bright with holly and with cedar sweet. +My stalwart arm is thine to lean upon; +The feast is spread, I only wait for thee; +God smiles upon thy dead, smile thou on me.' +Then through the open door the Old Year passed +And darkness settled on the outer world. + + + +'THE WAY' + + + +However certain of the way thou art, +Take not the self-appointed leader's part. +Follow no man, and by no man be led, +And no man lead. AWAKE, and go ahead. +Thy path, though leading straight unto the goal +Might prove confusing to another soul. +The goal is central; but from east, and west, +And north, and south, we set out on the quest; +From lofty mountains, and from valleys low:- +How could all find one common way to go? + +Lord Buddha to the wilderness was brought. +Lord Jesus to the Cross. And yet, think not +By solitude, or cross, thou canst achieve, +Lest in thine own true Self thou dost believe. +Know thou art One, with life's Almighty Source, +Then are thy feet set on the certain Course. + +Nor does it matter if thou feast, or fast, +Or what thy creed--or where thy lot is cast; +In halls of pleasure or in crowded mart, +In city streets, or from all men apart - +Thy path leads to the Light; and peace and power +Shall be thy portion, growing hour by hour. +Follow no man, and by no man be led. +And no man lead. But KNOW and go ahead. + + + +THE LEADER TO BE + + + +What shall the leader be in that great day +When we who sleep and dream that we are slaves +Shall wake and know that Liberty is ours? +Mark well that word--not yours, not mine, but ours. +For through the mingling of the separate streams +Of individual protest and desire, +In one united sea of purpose, lies +The course to Freedom. + + When Progression takes +Her undisputed right of way, and sinks +The old traditions and conventions where +They may not rise, what shall the leader be? + +No mighty warrior skilled in crafts of war, +Sowing earth's fertile furrows with dead men +And staining crimson God's cerulean sea, +To prove his prowess to a shuddering world. + +Nor yet a monarch with a silly crown +Perched on an empty head, an in-bred heir +To senseless titles and anemic blood. + +No ruler, purchased by the perjured votes +Of striving demagogues whose god is gold. +Not one of these shall lead to Liberty. +The weakness of the world cries out for strength. +The sorrow of the world cries out for hope. +Its suffering cries for kindness. + + He who leads +Must then be strong and hopeful as the dawn +That rises unafraid and full of joy +Above the blackness of the darkest night. +He must be kind to every living thing; +Kind as the Krishna, Buddha and the Christ, +And full of love for all created life. +Oh, not in war shall his great prowess lie, +Nor shall he find his pleasure in the chase. +Too great for slaughter, friend of man and beast, +Touching the borders of the Unseen Realms +And bringing down to earth their mystic fires +To light our troubled pathways, wise and kind +And human to the core, so shall he be, +The coming leader of the coming time. + + + +THE GREATER LOVE + + + +Hear thou my prayer, great God of opulence; +Give me no blessings, save as recompense +For blessings which I lovingly bestow +On needy stranger or on suffering foe. +If Wealth, by chance, should on my path appear, +Let Wisdom and Benevolence stand near, +And Charity within my portal wait, +To guard me from acquaintance intimate. + +Yet in this intricate great art of living +Guide me away from misdirected giving, +And show me how to spur the laggard soul +To strive alone once more to gain the goal. + +Repay my worldly efforts to attain +Only as I develop heart and brain; +Nor brand me with the 'Dollar Sign' above +A bosom void of sympathy and love. + +If on the carrying winds my name be blown +To any land or time beyond my own, +Let it not be as one who gained the day +By crowding others from the chosen way; +Rather as one who missed the highest place +Pausing to cheer spent runners in the race. +To do--to have--is lesser than to BE: +The greater boon I ask, dear God, from Thee. + + + +THANK GOD FOR LIFE + + + +Thank God for life, in such an age as this, + Rich with the promises of better things. +Thank God for being part of this great nation's heart, + Whose strong pulsations are not ruled by kings. + +Our thanks for fearless and protesting speech + When cloven hoofs show 'neath the robes of state. +For us no servile song of 'Kings can do no wrong.' + Not royal birth, but worth, makes rulers great. + +Thank God for peace within our border lands, + And for the love of peace within each soul. +Who thinks on peace has wrought, mosaic-squares of thought + In the foundation of our future goal. + +Our thanks for love, and knowledge of love's laws. + Love is a greater power than vested might. +Love is the central source of all enduring force. + Love is the law that sets the whole world right. + +Our thanks for that increasing torch of light + The tireless hand of science holds abroad. +And may its growing blaze shine on all hidden ways + Till man beholds the silhouette of God. + + + +TIME ENOUGH + + + +I know it is early morning, + And hope is calling aloud, +And your heart is afire with Youth's desire + To hurry along with the crowd. +But linger a bit by the roadside, + And lend a hand by the way, +'Tis a curious fact that a generous act +Brings leisure and luck to a day. + +I know it is only the noontime - + There is chance enough to be kind; +But the hours run fast when noon has passed, + And the shadows are close behind. +So think while the light is shining, + And act ere the set of the sun, +For the sorriest woe that a soul can know + Is to think what it might have done. + +I know it is almost evening, + But the twilight hour is long. +If you listen and heed each cry of need + You can right full many a wrong. +For when we have finished the journey + We will all look back and say: +'On life's long mile there was nothing worth while + But the good we did by the way.' + + + +NEW YEAR'S DAY + + + +When with clanging and with ringing + Comes the year's initial day, +I can feel the rhythmic swinging + Of the world upon its way; +And though Right still wears a fetter, + And though Justice still is blind, +Time's beyond is always better + Than the paths he leaves behind. + +In our eons of existence, + As we circle through the night, +We annihilate the distance + 'Twixt the darkness and the light. +From beginnings crude and lowly, + Round and round our souls have trod +Through the circles, winding slowly + Up to knowledge and to God. + +With each century departed + Some old evil found a tomb, +Some old truth was newly started + In propitious soil to bloom. +With each epoch some condition + That has handicapped the race +(Worn-out creed or superstition) + Unto knowledge yields its place. + +Though in folly and in blindness + And in sorrow still we grope, +Yet in man's increasing kindness + Lies the world's stupendous hope; +For our darkest hour of errors + Is as radiant as the dawn, +Set beside the awful terrors + Of the ages that have gone. + +And above the sad world's sobbing, + And the strife of clan with clan, +I can hear the mighty throbbing + Of the heart of God in man; +And a voice chants through the chiming + Of the bells, and seems to say, +We are climbing, we are climbing, + As we circle on our way. + + + +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 soul 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 as the 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 lead from and must lead back to God. + + + +IN AN OLD ART GALLERY + + + +Before the statue of a giant Hun, +There stood a dwarf, misshapen and uncouth. +His lifted eyes seemed asking: 'Why, in sooth, +Was I not fashioned like this mighty one? +Would God show favour to an older son + Like earthly kings, and beggar without ruth + Another, who sinned only by his youth? +Why should two lives in such divergence run?' + +Strange, as he gazed, that from a vanished past + No memories revived of war and strife, + Of misused prowess, and of broken law. +That old Hun's spirit, in the dwarf re-cast, + Lived out the sequence of an earthly life. + IT WAS THE STATUE OF HIMSELF HE SAW! + + + +TRUE BROTHERHOOD + + + +God, what a world, if men in street and mart +Felt that same kinship of the human heart +Which makes them, in the face of flame and flood, +Rise to the meaning of true Brotherhood! + + + +THE DECADENT + + + +Among the virile hosts he passed along, +Conspicuous for an undetermined grace +Of sexless beauty. In his form and face +God's mighty purpose somehow had gone wrong. +Then on his loom, he wove a careful song, + Of sensuous threads; a wordy web of lace + Wherein the primal passions of the race +And his own sins made wonder for the throng. + +A little pen prick opened up a vein, + And gave the finished mesh a crimson blot - + The last consummate touch of studied art. +But those who knew strong passion and keen pain, + Looked through and through the pattern and found not + One single great emotion of the heart. + + + +LORD, SPEAK AGAIN + + + +When God had formed the Universe, He thought +Of all the marvels therein to be wrought +And to His aid then Motherhood was brought. + +'My lesser self, the feminine of Me, +She will go forth throughout all time,' quoth He, +'And make My world what I would have it be. + +'For I am weary, having laboured so, +And for a cycle of repose would go +Into that silence which but God may know. + +'Therefore I leave the rounding of My plan +To Motherhood; and that which I began +Let woman finish in perfecting man. + +'She is the soil: the human Mother Earth: +She is the sun, that calls the seed to earth. +She is the gardener, who knows its worth. + +'From Me, all seed, of any kind must spring. +Divine the growth such seed and soil will bring. +For all is Me, and I am everything.' + +Thus having spoken to Himself aloud, +His glorious face upon His breast He bowed, +And sought repose behind a wall of cloud. + +Come forth, O God! though great Thy thought and good, +In shaping woman for true Motherhood, +Lord, speak again; she has not understood. + +The centuries pass: the cycles roll along - +The earth is peopled with a mighty throng, +Yet men are fighting and the world goes wrong. + +Lord, speak again, ere yet it be too late, +Unloved, unwanted souls come through earth's gate: +The unborn child is given a dower of hate. + +Thy world progresses in all ways save one. +In Motherhood, for which it was begun, +Lord, Lord, behold how little has been done! + +Children are spawned like fishes in the sand. +With ignorance and crime they fill the land. +Lord, speak again, till mothers understand. + +It is not all of Motherhood to know +Conception pleasure or deliverance woe. +Who plants the seed should help the shoot to grow. + +Better a barren soil than weed and tare, +Or sickly plants that die for want of care +In poisonous jungles, void of sun and air. + +True Motherhood is not alone to breed +The human race; it is to know and heed +Its holiest purpose and its highest need. + +Lord, speak again, so woman shall be stirred +With the full meaning of that mighty word +True Motherhood. She has not rightly heard. + + + +MY HEAVEN + + + +Unhoused in deserts of accepted thought, + And lost in jungles of confusing creeds, + My soul strayed, homeless, finding its own needs +Unsatisfied with what tradition taught. + +The pros and cons, the little ifs and ands, + The but and maybe, and the this and that, + On which the churches thicken and grow fat, +I found but structures built on shifting sands. + +And all their heavens were strange and far away, + And all their hells were made of human hate; + And since for death I did not care to wait, +A heaven I fashioned for myself one day. + +Of happy thoughts I built it stone by stone, + With joy of life I draped each spacious room, + With love's great light I drove away all gloom, +And in the centre I made God a throne. + +And this dear heaven I set within my heart, + And carried it about with me alway, + And then the changing dogmas of the day +Seemed alien to my thoughts and held no part. + +Now as I take my heaven from place to place + I find new rooms by love's revealing light, + And death will give me but a larger sight +To see my palace spreading into space. + + + +LIFE + + + +On a bleak, bald hill with a dull world under, + The dreary world of the Commonplace, +I have stood when the whole world seemed a blunder + Of dotard Time, in an aimless race. +With worry about me and want before me - + Yet deep in my soul was a rapture spring +That made me cry to the grey sky o'er me: + 'Oh, I know this life is a goodly thing!' + +I have given sweet years to a thankless duty + While cold and starving, though clothed and fed, +For a young heart's hunger for joy and beauty + Is harder to bear than the need of bread. +I have watched the wane of a sodden season, + Which let hope wither, and made care thrive, +And through it all, without earthly reason, + I have thrilled with the glory of being alive. + +And now I stand by the great sea's splendour, + Where love and beauty feed heart and eye. +The brilliant light of the sun grows tender + As it slants to the shore of the by and by. +I prize each hour as a golden treasure - + A pearl Time drops from a broken string: +And all my ways are the ways of pleasure, + And I know this life is a goodly thing. + +And I know, too, that not in the seeing, + Or having, or doing the things we would, +Lies that deep rapture that comes from being + AT ONE WITH THE PURPOSE WHICH MADE ALL GOOD. +And not from Pleasure the heart may borrow + That rare contentment for which we strive, +Unless through trouble, and want, and sorrow + It has thrilled with the glory of being alive. + + + +GOD'S KIN + + + +There is no summit you may not attain, + No purpose which you may not yet achieve, + If you will wait serenely and believe +Each seeming loss is but a step toward gain. + +Between the mountain-tops lie vale and plain; + Let nothing make you question, doubt or grieve; + Give only good, and good alone receive; +And as you welcome joy, so welcome pain. + +That which you most desire awaits your word; + Throw wide the door and bid it enter in. +Speak, and the strong vibrations shall be stirred; + Speak, and above earth's loud, unmeaning din +Your silent declarations shall be heard. + All things are possible to God's own kin. + + + +CONQUEST + + + +Talk not of strength, until your heart has known +And fought with weakness through long hours alone. + +Talk not of virtue, till your conquering soul +Has met temptation and gained full control. + +Boast not of garments, all unscorched by sin, +Till you have passed, unscathed, through fires within. + +Oh, poor that pride the unscarred soldier shows, +Who safe in camp, has never faced his foes. + + + +THE STATUE + + + +A granite rock in the mountain side +Gazed on the world and was satisfied. +It watched the centuries come and go. +It welcomed the sunlight, yet loved the snow. +It grieved when the forest was forced to fall, +Yet joyed when steeples rose, white and tall, +In the valley below it, and thrilled to hear +The voice of the great town roaring near. + +When the mountain stream from its idle play +Was caught by the mill wheel and borne away +And trained to labour, the grey rock mused +'Trees and verdure and stream are used +By Man the Master; but I remain +Friend of the mountain, and star, and plain, +Unchanged forever by God's decree, +While passing centuries bow to me.' + +Then all unwarned, with a mighty shock +Out of the mountain was wrenched the rock. +Bruised and battered and broken in heart, +It was carried away to the common mart, +Wrecked and ruined in piece and pride. +'Oh, God is cruel,' the granite cried, +'Comrade of mountains, of stars the friend, +By all deserted, how sad my end.' + +A dreaming sculptor in passing by +Gazed at the granite with thoughtful eye. +Then stirred with a purpose supremely grand +He bade his dream in the rock expand. +And lo! from the broken and shapeless mass +That grieved and doubted, it came to pass +That a glorious statue of priceless worth +And infinite beauty, adorned the earth. + + + +SIRIUS + + + +'Since Sinus crossed the Milky Way, sixty thousand years have +gone.'--GARRETT P. SERVISS. + +Since Sirius crossed the Milky Way + Full sixty thousand years have gone, +Yet hour by hour, and day by day, + This tireless star speeds on and on. + +Methinks he must be moved to mirth + By that droll tale of Genesis, +Which says creation had its birth + For such a puny world as this. + +To hear how One who fashioned all + Those Solar Systems, tier on tiers, +Expressed in little Adam's fall + The purpose of a million spheres. + +And, witness of the endless plan, + To splendid wrath he must be wrought +By pigmy creeds presumptuous man + Sends forth as God's primeval thought. + +Perchance from half a hundred stars + He hears as many curious things; +From Venus, Jupiter and Mars, + And Saturn with the beauteous rings, + +There may be students of the Cause + Who send their revelations out, +And formulate their codes of laws, + With heavens for faith and hells for doubt. + +On planets old ere form or place + Was lent to earth, may dwell--who knows - +A God-like and perfected race + That hails great Sirius as he goes. + +In zones that circle moon and sun, + 'Twixt world and world, he may see souls +Whose span of earthly life is done, + Still journeying up to higher goals. + +And on dead planets grey and cold + Grim spectral souls, that harboured hate +Life after life, he may behold + Descending to a darker fate. + +And on his grand majestic course + He may have caught one glorious sight +Of that vast shining central Source + From which proceeds all Life, all Light. + +Since Sirius crossed the Milky Way + Full sixty thousand years have gone, +No mortal man may bid him stay, + No mortal man may speed him on. + +No mortal mind may comprehend + What is beyond, what was before; +To God be glory without end, + Let man be humble and adore. + + + +AT FONTAINEBLEAU + + + +At Fontainebleau, I saw a little bed +Fashioned of polished wood, with gold ornate, +Ambition, hope, and sorrow, ay, and hate +Once battled there, above a childish head, +And there in vain, grief wept, and memory plead + It was so small! but Ah, dear God, how great + The part it played in one sad woman's fate. +How wide the gloom, that narrow object shed. + +The symbol of an over-reaching aim, + The emblem of a devastated joy, + It spoke of glory, and a blasted home: +Of fleeting honours, and disordered fame, + And the lone passing of a fragile boy. + +* * * + +It was the cradle of the King of Rome. + + + +THE MASQUERADE + + + +Look in the eyes of trouble with a smile, + Extend your hand and do not be afraid. + 'Tis but a friend who comes to masquerade. +And test your faith and courage for awhile. + +Fly, and he follows fast with threat and jeer. + Shrink, and he deals hard blow on stinging blow, + But bid him welcome as a friend, and lo! +The jest is off--the masque will disappear. + + + +SYMPATHY + + + +Is the way hard and thorny, oh, my brother? + Do tempests beat, and adverse wild winds blow? +And are you spent, and broken, at each nightfall, + Yet with each morn you rise and onward go? +Brother, I know, I know! +I, too, have journeyed so. + +Is your heart mad with longing, oh, my sister? + Are all great passions in your breast aglow? +Does the white wonder of your own soul blind you, + And are you torn with rapture and with woe? +Sister, I know, I know! +I, too, have suffered so. + +Is the road filled with snare and quicksand, pilgrim? + Do pitfalls lie where roses seem to grow? +And have you sometimes stumbled in the darkness, + And are you bruised and scarred by many a blow? +Pilgrim, I know, I know! +I, too, have stumbled so. + +Do you send out rebellious cry and question, + As mocking hours pass silently and slow, +Does your insistent 'wherefore' bring no answer, + While stars wax pale with watching, and droop low? +I, too, have questioned so, +But now _I_ KNOW, _I_ KNOW! +To toil, to strive, to err, to cry, to grow, +TO LOVE THROUGH all--this is the way to KNOW. + + + +INTERMEDIARY + + + +When from the prison of its body free, +My soul shall soar, before it goes to Thee, +Thou great Creator, give it power to know +The language of all sad, dumb things below. +And let me dwell a season still on earth +Before I rise to some diviner birth: +Invisible to men, yet seen and heard, +And understood by sorrowing beast and bird - +Invisible to men, yet always near, +To whisper counsel in the human ear: +And with a spell to stay the hunter's hand +And stir his heart to know and understand; +To plant within the dull or thoughtless mind +The great religious impulse to be kind. + +Before I prune my spirit wings and rise +To seek my loved ones in their paradise, +Yea! even before I hasten on to see +That lost child's face, so like a dream to me, +I would be given this intermediate role, +And carry comfort to each poor, dumb soul: +And bridge man's gulf of cruelty and sin +By understanding of his lower kin. +'Twixt weary driver and the straining steed +On wings of mercy would my spirit speed. +And each should know, before his journey's end, +That in the other dwelt a loving friend. +From zoo and jungle, and from cage and stall, +I would translate each inarticulate call, +Each pleading look, each frenzied act and cry, +And tell the story to each passer-by; +And of a spirit's privilege possessed, +Pursue indifference to its couch of rest, +And whisper in its ear until in awe +It woke and knew God's all-embracing law +Of Universal Life--the One in All. + +* * * + +Lord, let this mission to my lot befall. + + + +LIFE'S CAR + + + + 'Hurry up!' +No lingering by old doors of doubt - + No loitering by the way, +No waiting a To-morrow car, + When you can board To-day. +Success is somewhere down the track; + Before the chance is gone +Accelerate your laggard pace, + Swing on, I say, swing on - + Hurry up! + + 'Step lively!' +Belated souls are following fast, + They shout and signal, 'Wait.' +Conductor Time brooks no delay, + He rings the bell of Fate. +But you can give the man behind, + With one hand on the bar, +A final chance to brook defeat, + And board the moving car. + Step lively! + + 'Move up!' +Make way for others as you sit + Or stand. This crowded earth +Has room for every journeying soul + En route to higher birth. +Ay, room and comfort, if no one + Took double share or space, +Nor let his greed and selfishness + Absorb another's place. + Move up! + + 'Hold fast!' +The jolting switch of obstacles + With jarring rails is near. +Stand firm of foot, be strong of grip, + Brace well and have no fear. +The Maker of the Car of Life + Foresaw that curve--Despair, +And hung the straps of faith, and hope + So you might grasp them there. + Hold fast! + + + +OPPORTUNITY + + + +Send forth your heart's desire, and work and wait; +The opportunities of life are brought +To our own doors, not by capricious fate, +But by the strong compelling force of thought. + + + +THE AGE OF MOTORED THINGS + + + +The wonderful age of the world I sing - +The age of battery, coil and spring, +Of steam, and storage, and motored thing. + +Though faith may slumber and art seem dead, +And all that is spoken has once been said, +And all that is written were best unread; + +Though hearts are iron and thoughts are steel, +And all that has value is mercantile, +Yet marvellous truths shall the age reveal. + +Ay, greater the marvels this age shall find +Than all the centuries left behind, +When faith was a bigot and art was blind. + +Oh, sorry the search of the world for gods, +Through faith that slaughters and art that lauds, +While reason sits on its throne and nods. + +But out of the leisure that men will know, +When the cruel things of the sad earth go, +A Faith that is Knowledge shall rise and grow. + +In the throb and whir of each new machine +Thinner is growing the veil between +The visible earth and the worlds unseen. + +The True Religion shall leisure bring; +And Art shall awaken and Love shall sing: +Oh, ho! for the age of the motored thing! + + + +NEW YEAR + + + +MORTAL: + 'The night is cold, the hour is late, the world is bleak and +drear; + Who is it knocking at my door?' + +THE NEW YEAR: + 'I am Good Cheer.' + +MORTAL: + 'Your voice is strange; I know you not; in shadows dark I grope. + What seek you here?' + +THE NEW YEAR: + 'Friend, let me in; my name is Hope.' + +MORTAL: + 'And mine is Failure; you but mock the life you seek to bless. + Pass on.' + +THE NEW YEAR: + 'Nay, open wide the door; I am Success.' + +MORTAL: + 'But I am ill and spent with pain; too late has come your wealth. + I cannot use it.' + +THE NEW YEAR: + 'Listen, friend; I am Good Health.' + +MORTAL: + 'Now, wide I fling my door. Come in, and your fair statements +prove.' + +THE NEW YEAR: + 'But you must open, too, your heart, for I am Love.' + + + +DISARMAMENT + + + +We have outgrown the helmet and cuirass, +The spear, the arrow, and the javelin. +These crude inventions of a cruder age, +When men killed men to show their love of God, +And he who slaughtered most was greatest king. +We have outgrown the need of war! + Should men +Unite in this one thought, all war would end. + +Disarm the world; and let all Nations meet +Like Men, not monsters, when disputes arise. +When crossed opinions tangle into snarls, +Let Courts untie them, and not armies cut. +When State discussions breed dissensions, let +Union and Arbitration supersede +The hell-created implements of War. +Disarm the world! and bid destructive thought +Slip like a serpent from the mortal mind +Down through the marshes of oblivion. Soon +A race of gods shall rise! Disarm! Disarm! + + + +THE CALL + + + +All wantonly in hours of joy, +I made a song of pain. +Soon Grief drew near, and paused to hear, +And sang the sad refrain, +Again and yet again. + +Then recklessly in my despair, +I sang of hope one day. +And Joy turned back upon life's track, +And smiled, and came my way, +And sat her down to stay. + + + +A LITTLE SONG + + + +Oh, a great world, a fair world, a true world I find it; +A sun that never forgets to rise, +On the darkest night, a star in the skies, +And a God of love behind it. + +Oh, a good life, a sweet life, a large life I take it, +Is what He offers to you, and me; +A chance to do, and a chance to be, +Whatever we chose to make it. + +Oh, a far way, a high way, a sure way He leads us; +And if the journey at times seems long, +We must trudge ahead, with a trustful song, +And know at the end He needs us. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Etext Poems of Progress, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox + diff --git a/old/pmprg10.zip b/old/pmprg10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2c418f3 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/pmprg10.zip |
