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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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