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diff --git a/3228-h/3228-h.htm b/3228-h/3228-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2b199bf --- /dev/null +++ b/3228-h/3228-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,4626 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=US-ASCII" /> +<title>Poems of Progress and New Thought Pastels, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + P.gutsumm { margin-left: 5%;} + P.poetry {margin-left: 3%; } + .GutSmall { font-size: 0.7em; } + H1, H2 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + } + H3, H4, H5 { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + table { border-collapse: collapse; } +table {margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto;} + td { vertical-align: top; border: 1px solid black;} + td p { margin: 0.2em; } + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .pagenum {position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-weight: normal; + color: gray; + } + img { border: none; } + img.dc { float: left; width: 50px; height: 50px; } + p.gutindent { margin-left: 2em; } + div.gapspace { height: 0.8em; } + div.gapline { height: 0.8em; width: 100%; border-top: 1px solid;} + div.gapmediumline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + div.gapmediumdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 40%; margin-left:30%; + border-top: 1px solid; border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; + margin-left: 40%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid; } + div.gapdoubleline { height: 0.3em; width: 50%; + margin-left: 25%; border-top: 1px solid; + border-bottom: 1px solid;} + div.gapshortline { height: 0.3em; width: 20%; margin-left:40%; + border-top: 1px solid; } + .citation {vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: none;} + img.floatleft { float: left; + margin-right: 1em; + margin-top: 0.5em; margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.floatright { float: right; + margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em; } + img.clearcenter {display: block; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; margin-top: 0.5em; + margin-bottom: 0.5em} + --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<pre> + +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: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS OF PROGRESS AND NEW THOUGHT +PASTELS*** +</pre> +<p>Transcribed from the 1913 Gay and Hancock edition by David +Price, email ccx074@pglaf.org</p> +<h1>POEMS OF PROGRESS<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">AND</span><br /> +NEW THOUGHT PASTELS</h1> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="GutSmall">BY</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center">ELLA WHEELER WILCOX</p> +<p style="text-align: center"> +<a href="images/tpb.jpg"> +<img alt= +"Decorative graphic" +title= +"Decorative graphic" +src="images/tps.jpg" /> +</a></p> +<p style="text-align: center">GAY AND HANCOCK, LTD.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">12 AND 13 +HENRIETTA STREET, COVENT GARDEN</span></p> +<p style="text-align: center">LONDON</p> +<p style="text-align: center">1913</p> +<p style="text-align: center">[<i>All rights reserved</i>]</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> +<p><a name="pageiv"></a><span class="pagenum">p. iv</span><span +class="smcap">Any</span> edition of my poems published in England +by any firm except Messrs. Gay and Hancock is pirated and not +authentic.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">ELLA WHEELER WILCOX.</p> +<p><i>April</i> 12, 1910.</p> +<h2><a name="pagev"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +v</span>PREFACE<br /> +LOVE’S LANGUAGE</h2> +<p class="poetry">When silence flees before the voice of Love,<br +/> +Of what expression does that god approve?<br /> +Is dulcet song or flowing verse his choice,<br /> +Or stately prose, made regal by his voice?<br /> +Speaks Love in couplets, or in epics grand?<br /> +And is Love humble, or does he command?</p> +<p class="poetry">There is no language that Love does not +speak:<br /> +To-day commanding and to-morrow meek,<br /> +One hour laconic and the next verbose,<br /> +With hope triumphant and with doubt morose,<br /> +His varying moods all forms of speech employ.<br /> +To give expression to his painful joy,</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="pagevi"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +vi</span>To voice the phases of his joyful pain,<br /> +He rings the changes on the poet’s strain.<br /> +Yet not in epic, epigram or verse<br /> +Can Love the passion of his heart rehearse.<br /> +All speech, all language, is inadequate,<br /> +There are no words with Love commensurate.</p> +<h2><a name="pagevii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +vii</span>CONTENTS</h2> +<table> +<tr> +<td><p> </p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span +class="GutSmall">PAGE</span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Preface</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#pagev">v</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Land Between</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page1">1</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Love’s Mirage</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page3">3</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Need of the World</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page4">4</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Gulf Stream</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page7">7</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Remembered</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page8">8</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Helen of Troy</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page9">9</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Lais when Young</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page11">11</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Lais when Old</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page12">12</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Existence</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page13">13</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Holiday Songs</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page15">15</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Astrolabius</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page18">18</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Completion</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page21">21</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Sleep’s Treachery</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page24">24</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Art versus Cupid</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page25">25</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><a name="pageviii"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +viii</span>The Revolt of Vashti</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page33">33</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Choosing of Esther</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page37">37</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Honeymoon Scene</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page42">42</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Cost</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page49">49</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Voice</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page52">52</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>God’s Answer</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page55">55</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Edict of the Sex</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page56">56</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The World-child</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page59">59</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Heights</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page61">61</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>On seeing ‘The House of Julia’ at +Herculaneum</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page63">63</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>A Prayer</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page64">64</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>What is Right Living?</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page66">66</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Justice</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page67">67</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Time’s Gaze</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page68">68</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Worker and the Work</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page70">70</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Art thou Alive?</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page72">72</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>To-day</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page74">74</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Ladder</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page76">76</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Who is a Christian?</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page78">78</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Goal</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page80">80</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Spur</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page82">82</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p><a name="pageix"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +ix</span>Awakened!</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page84">84</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Shadows</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page86">86</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The New Commandment</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page88">88</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Summer Dreams</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page90">90</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Breaking of Chains</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page92">92</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>December</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page94">94</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>‘The Way’</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page96">96</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Leader to be</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page98">98</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Greater Love</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page100">100</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Thank God for Life</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page102">102</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Time Enough</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page104">104</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>New Year’s Day</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page106">106</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Life is a Privilege</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page108">108</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>In an Old Art Gallery</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page110">110</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>True Brotherhood</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page111">111</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Decadent</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page112">112</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Lord, speak again</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page113">113</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>My Heaven</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page116">116</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Life</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page118">118</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>God’s Kin</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page120">120</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Conquest</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page121">121</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Statue</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page122">122</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Sirius</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page124">124</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>At Fontainebleau</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page128">128</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Masquerade</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page129">129</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Sympathy</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page131">131</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Intermediary</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page133">133</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Life’s Car</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page135">135</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Opportunity</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page135">135</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Age of Motored Things</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page136">136</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>New Year</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page136">136</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Disarmament</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page140">140</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Call</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page141">141</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>A Little Song</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page142">142</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td colspan="2"><p style="text-align: center">NEW THOUGHT +PASTELS</p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>A Dialogue</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page145">145</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Weed</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page147">147</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Strength</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page148">148</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Affirm</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page149">149</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Chosen</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page150">150</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Nameless</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page152">152</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Word</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page153">153</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Assistance</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page155">155</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>‘Credulity’</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page156">156</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Consciousness</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page157">157</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Structure</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page158">158</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Our Souls</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page159">159</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Law</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page160">160</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Knowledge</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page161">161</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Give</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page163">163</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Perfection</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page164">164</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Fear</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page165">165</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>The Way</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page166">166</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Understood</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page167">167</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>His Mansion</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page168">168</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Effect</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page169">169</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Three Things</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page170">170</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Obstacles</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page171">171</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Prayer</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page172">172</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Climbing</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page173">173</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>‘There is no Death, There are no Dead’</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page174">174</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td><p>Realisation</p> +</td> +<td><p style="text-align: right"><span class="indexpageno"><a +href="#page176">176</a></span></p> +</td> +</tr> +</table> +<h2><a name="page1"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 1</span>THE LAND +BETWEEN</h2> +<p class="poetry">Between the little Here and larger Yonder,<br +/> + There is a realm (or so one day I read)<br /> +Where faithful spirits love-enchained may wander,<br /> + Till some remembering soul from earth has fled.<br +/> +Then, reunited, they go forth afar,<br /> +From sphere to sphere, where wondrous angels are.</p> +<p class="poetry">Not many spirits in that realm are waiting;<br +/> + Not many pause upon its shores to rest;<br /> +For only love, intense and unabating,<br /> + Can hold them from the longer, higher quest.<br /> +And after grief has wept itself to sleep,<br /> +Few hearts on earth their vital memories keep.</p> +<p class="poetry">Should I pass on, across the mystic border,<br +/> + Let thy love link me to that pallid land;<br /> +I would not seek the heavens of finer order<br /> + Until thy barque had left this coarser strand.<br /> +<a name="page2"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 2</span>How desolate +such journeyings would be,<br /> +Though straight to Him, were they not shared by thee.</p> +<p class="poetry">Wert thou first called (dear God, how could I +bear it?)<br /> + I should enchain thee with my love, I know.<br /> +Not great enough am I to free thy spirit<br /> + From all these tender ties, and bid thee go.<br /> +Nor would a soul, unselfish as thine own,<br /> +Forget so soon, and speed to heaven alone.</p> +<p class="poetry">On earth we find no joy in ways diverging;<br +/> + How could we find it in the worlds unseen?<br /> +I know old memories from my bosom surging,<br /> + Would keep thee waiting in that Land Between,<br /> +Until together, side by side, we trod<br /> +A path of stars, in our great search for God.</p> +<h2><a name="page3"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +3</span>LOVE’S MIRAGE</h2> +<p class="poetry">Midway upon the route, he paused athirst<br /> + And suddenly across the wastes of heat,<br /> + He saw cool waters gleaming, and a sweet<br /> +Green oasis upon his vision burst.<br /> +A tender dream, long in his bosom nursed,<br /> + Spread love’s illusive verdure for his +feet;<br /> + The barren sands changed into golden wheat;<br /> +The way grew glad that late had seemed accursed.</p> +<p class="poetry">She shone, the woman wonder, on his soul;<br /> + The garden spot, for which men toil and wait;<br /> + The house of rest, that is each +heart’s demand;<br /> +But when, at last, he reached the gleaming goal,<br /> + He found, oh, cruel irony of fate,<br /> + But desert sun upon the desert +sand.</p> +<h2><a name="page4"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 4</span>THE NEED +OF THE WORLD</h2> +<p class="poetry">I know the need of the world,<br /> + Though it would not have me know.<br /> +It would hide its sorrow deep,<br /> + Where only God may go.<br /> +Yet its secret it can not keep;<br /> +It tells it awake, or asleep,<br /> +It tells it to all who will heed,<br /> +And he who runs may read.<br /> + The need of the world I know.</p> +<p class="poetry">I know the need of the world,<br /> + When it boasts of its wealth the loudest,<br /> +When it flaunts it in all men’s eyes,<br /> + When its mien is the gayest and proudest.<br /> +Oh! ever it lies—it lies,<br /> +For the sound of its laughter dies<br /> +In a sob and a smothered moan,<br /> +And it weeps when it sits alone.<br /> + The need of the world I know.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page5"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +5</span>I know the need of the world.<br /> + When the earth shakes under the tread<br /> +Of men who march to the fight,<br /> + When rivers with blood are red<br /> +And there is no law but might,<br /> +And the wrong way seems the right;<br /> +When he who slaughters the most<br /> +Is all men’s pride and boast.<br /> + The need of the world I know.</p> +<p class="poetry">I know the need of the world.<br /> + When it babbles of gold and fame,<br /> +It is only to lead us astray<br /> + From the thing that it dare not name,<br /> +For this is the sad world’s way.<br /> +Oh! poor blind world grown grey<br /> +With the need of a thing so near,<br /> +With the want of a thing so dear.<br /> + The need of the world I know.</p> +<p class="poetry">The need of the world is love.<br /> + Deep under the pride of power,<br /> +Down under its lust of greed,<br /> + For the joys that last but an hour,<br /> +There lies forever its need.<br /> +<a name="page6"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 6</span>For love is +the law and the creed<br /> +And love is the unnamed goal<br /> +Of life, from man to the mole.<br /> + Love is the need of the world.</p> +<h2><a name="page7"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 7</span>THE GULF +STREAM</h2> +<p class="poetry">Skilled mariner, and counted sane and wise,<br +/> + That was a curious thing which chanced to me,<br /> + So good a sailor on so fair a +sea.<br /> +With favouring winds and blue unshadowed skies,<br /> +Led by the faithful beacon of Love’s eyes,<br /> + Past reef and shoal, my life-boat bounded free<br /> + And fearless of all changes that might be<br /> +Under calm waves, where many a sunk rock lies.</p> +<p class="poetry">A golden dawn; yet suddenly my barque<br /> + Strained at the sails, as in a cyclone’s +blast;<br /> + And battled with an unseen +current’s force,<br /> +For we had entered when the night was dark<br /> + That old tempestuous Gulf Stream of the Past.<br /> + But for love’s eyes, I had +not kept the course.</p> +<h2><a name="page8"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +8</span>REMEMBERED</h2> +<p class="poetry">His art was loving; Eres set his sign<br /> + Upon that youthful forehead, and he drew<br /> + The hearts of women, as the sun +draws dew.<br /> +Love feeds love’s thirst as wine feeds love of wine;<br /> +Nor is there any potion from the vine<br /> + Which makes men drunken like the subtle brew<br /> + Of kisses crushed by kisses; and he grew<br /> +Inebriated with that draught divine.</p> +<p class="poetry">Yet in his sober moments, when the sun<br /> + Of radiant summer paled to lonely fall,<br /> + And passion’s sea had grown +an ebbing tide,<br /> +From out the many, Memory singled one<br /> + Full cup that seemed the sweetest of them +all—<br /> + <i>The warm red mouth that mocked +him and denied</i>.</p> +<h2><a name="page9"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 9</span>HELEN OF +TROY</h2> +<h3>ON THE ISLE OF CRANAE</h3> +<p class="poetry">The world an abject vassal to her charms,<br /> +And kings competing for a single smile,<br /> +Yet love she knew not, till upon this isle<br /> +She gave surrender to abducting arms.<br /> +Not Theseus, who plucked her lips’ first kiss,<br /> + Not Menelaus, lawful mate and spouse,<br /> + Such answering passion in her heart could rouse,<br +/> +Or wake such tumult in her soul as this.<br /> +Let come what will, let Greece and Asia meet,<br /> + Let heroes die and kingdoms run with gore;<br /> + Let devastation spread from shore to shore—<br +/> +Resplendent Helen finds her bondage sweet.<br /> +The whole world fights her battles, while she lies<br /> +Sunned in the fervour of young Paris’ eyes.</p> +<h3><a name="page10"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 10</span>ON THE +ISLE OF RHODES</h3> +<p class="poetry">The battles ended, ardent Paris dead,<br /> + Of faithful Menelaus long bereft,<br /> + Time is the only suitor who is left:<br /> +Helen survives, with youth and beauty fled.<br /> +By hate remembered, but by love forgot,<br /> + Dethroned and driven from her high estate,<br /> + Unhappy Helen feels the lash of Fate<br /> +And knows at last an unloved woman’s lot.<br /> +The Grecian marvel, and the Trojan joy,<br /> + The world’s fair wonder, from her palace +flies<br /> + The furies follow, and great Helen dies,<br /> +A death of horror, for the pride of Troy.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry">* * * * *</p> +<p class="poetry">Yet Time, like Menelaus, all forgives.<br /> +Helen, immortal in her beauty, lives.</p> +<h2><a name="page11"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 11</span>LAIS +WHEN YOUNG</h2> +<p class="poetry">Lais when young, and all her charms in +flower,<br /> + Lais, whose beauty was the fateful light<br /> + That led great ships to anchor in +the night<br /> +And bring their priceless cargoes to her bower,<br /> +Lais yet found her cup of sweet turned sour.<br /> + Great Plato’s pupil, from his lofty height,<br +/> + Zenocrates, unmoved, had seen the white<br /> +Sweet wonder of her, and defied her power.</p> +<p class="poetry">She snared the world in nets of subtle +wiles:<br /> + The proud, the famed, all clamoured at her gate;<br +/> + Dictators plead, inside her +portico;<br /> +Wisdom sought madness, in her favouring smiles;<br /> + Now was she made the laughing-stock of fate:<br /> + One loosed her clinging arms, and +bade her go.</p> +<h2><a name="page12"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 12</span>LAIS +WHEN OLD</h2> +<p class="poetry">Lais, when old and all her beauty gone,<br /> +Lais, the erstwhile courted pleasure queen,<br /> +Walked homeless through Corinth.<br /> + One mocked her mien—<br /> +One tossed her coins; she took them and passed on.<br /> +Down by the harbour sloped a terraced lawn,<br /> + Where fountains played; she paused to view the +scene.<br /> + A marble palace stood in bowers of green<br /> +’Twas here of old she revelled till the dawn.</p> +<p class="poetry">Through yonder portico her lovers +came—<br /> + Hero and statesman, athlete, merchant, sage;<br /> + They flung the whole world’s +treasures at her feet<br /> +To buy her favour and exalt her shame.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry">* * * * *</p> +<p class="poetry">She spat upon her dole of coins in rage<br /> + And faded like a phantom down the street.</p> +<h2><a name="page13"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +13</span>EXISTENCE</h2> +<p class="poetry">You are here, and you are wanted,<br /> + Though a waif upon life’s stair;<br /> +Though the sunlit hours are haunted<br /> + With the shadowy shapes of care.<br /> +Still the Great One, the All-Seeing<br /> +Called your spirit into being—<br /> +Gave you strength for any fate.<br /> +Since your life by Him was needed,<br /> +All your ways by Him are heeded—<br /> + You can trust and you can wait.</p> +<p class="poetry">You can wait to know the meaning<br /> + Of the troubles sent your soul;<br /> +Of the chasms intervening<br /> + ’Twixt your purpose and your goal;<br /> +Of the sorrows and the trials,<br /> +Of the silence and denials,<br /> + Ofttimes answering to your pleas;<br /> +Of the stinted sweets of pleasure,<br /> +And of pain’s too generous measure—<br /> + You can wait the <i>why</i> of these.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page14"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +14</span>Forth from planet unto planet,<br /> + You have gone, and you will go.<br /> +Space is vast, but we must span it;<br /> + For life’s purpose is <i>to know</i>.<br /> +Earth retains you but a minute,<br /> +Make the best of what lies in it;<br /> + Light the pathway where you are.<br /> +There is nothing worth the doing<br /> +That will leave regret or rueing,<br /> + As you speed from star to star.</p> +<p class="poetry">You are part of the Beginning,<br /> + You are parcel of To-day.<br /> +When He set His world to spinning<br /> + You were flung upon your way.<br /> +When the system falls to pieces,<br /> +When this pulsing epoch ceases,<br /> + When the <i>is</i> becomes the <i>was</i>,<br /> +You will live, for you will enter<br /> +In the great Creative Centre,<br /> + In the All-Enduring Cause.</p> +<h2><a name="page15"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +15</span>HOLIDAY SONGS</h2> +<h3>I</h3> +<p class="poetry">Sailing away on a summer sea,<br /> + Out of the bleak March weather;<br /> +Drifting away for a loaf and play,<br /> + Just you and I together;<br /> +And it’s good-bye worry and good-bye hurry<br /> +And never a care have we;<br /> +With the sea below and the sun above<br /> +And nothing to do but dream and love,<br /> + Sailing away together.</p> +<p class="poetry">Sailing away from the grim old town<br /> + And tasks the town calls duty;<br /> +Sailing away from walls of grey<br /> + To a land of bloom and beauty,<br /> +And it’s good-bye to letters from our lessers and our +betters,<br /> +<a name="page16"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 16</span>To the +cold world’s smile or its frown.<br /> +We sail away on a sunny track<br /> +To find the summer and bring it back<br /> + And love is our only duty.</p> +<h3>II</h3> +<p class="poetry">Afloat on a sea of passion<br /> + Without a compass or chart,<br /> +But the glow of your eye shows the sun is high,<br /> + By the sextant of my heart.<br /> +I know we are nearing the tropics<br /> + By the languor that round us lies,<br /> +And the smile on your mouth says the course is south<br /> + And the port is Paradise.</p> +<p class="poetry">We have left grey skies behind us,<br /> + We sail under skies of blue;<br /> +You are off with me on lovers’ sea,<br /> + And I am away with you.<br /> +We have not a single sorrow,<br /> + And I have but one fear—<br /> +That my lips may miss one offered kiss<br /> + From the mouth that is smiling near.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page17"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +17</span>There is no land of winter;<br /> + There is no world of care;<br /> +There is bloom and mirth all over the earth,<br /> + And love, love everywhere.<br /> +Our boat is the barque of Pleasure,<br /> + And whatever port we sight<br /> +The touch of your hand will make the land<br /> + The Harbour of Pure Delight.</p> +<h2><a name="page18"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +18</span>ASTROLABIUS<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">(THE CHILD OF ABELARD AND +HELOISE)</span></h2> +<h3>I</h3> +<p class="poetry">I wrenched from a passing comet in its +flight,<br /> + By that great force of two mad hearts aflame,<br /> + A soul incarnate, back to earth you came,<br /> +To glow like star-dust for a little night.<br /> +Deep shadows hide you wholly from our sight;<br /> + The centuries leave nothing but your name,<br /> + Tinged with the lustre of a splendid shame,<br /> +That blazed oblivion with rebellious light.</p> +<p class="poetry">The mighty passion that became your cause,<br +/> + Still burns its lengthening path across the +years;<br /> + We feel its raptures, and we see its tears<br /> +And ponder on its retributive laws.<br /> + Time keeps that deathless story ever new;<br /> + Yet finds no answer, when we ask of you.</p> +<h3><a name="page19"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +19</span>II</h3> +<p class="poetry">At Argenteuil, I saw the lonely cell<br /> + Where Heloise dreamed through her broken rest,<br /> + That baby lips pulled at her undried breast.<br /> +It needed but my woman’s heart to tell<br /> +Of those long vigils and the tears that fell<br /> + When aching arms reached out in fruitless quest,<br +/> + As after flight, wings brood an empty nest.<br /> +(So well I know that sorrow, ah, so well.)</p> +<p class="poetry">Across the centuries there comes no sound<br /> + Of that vast anguish; not one sigh or word<br /> + Or echo of the mother loss has stirred,<br /> +The sea of silence, lasting and profound.<br /> + Yet to each heart, that once has felt this grief,<br +/> + Sad Memory restores Time’s missing leaf.</p> +<h3>III</h3> +<p class="poetry">But what of you? Who took the +mother’s place<br /> + When sweet expanding love its object sought?<br /> + Was there a voice to tell her tragic lot,<br /> +And did you ever look upon her face?<br /> +<a name="page20"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 20</span>Was yours +a cloistered seeking after grace?<br /> + Or in the flame of adolescent thought<br /> + Were Abelard’s departed passions caught<br /> +To burn again in you and leave their trace?</p> +<p class="poetry">Conceived in nature’s bold primordial +way<br /> + (As in their revolutions, suns create),<br /> + You came to earth, a soul immaculate,<br /> +Baptized in fire, with some great part to play.<br /> + What was that part, and wherefore hid from us,<br /> + Immortal mystery, Astrolabius!</p> +<h2><a name="page21"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +21</span>COMPLETION</h2> +<p class="poetry">When I shall meet God’s generous +dispensers<br /> + Of all the riches in the heavenly store,<br /> +Those lesser gods, who act as Recompensers<br /> + For loneliness and loss upon this shore,<br /> +Methinks abashed, and somewhat hesitating,<br /> + My soul its wish and longing will declare.<br /> +Lest they reply: ‘Here are no bounties waiting:<br /> + We gave on earth, your portion and your +share.’</p> +<p class="poetry">Then shall I answer: ‘Yea, I do +remember<br /> + The many blessings to my life allowed;<br /> +My June was always longer than December,<br /> + My sun was always stronger than my cloud,<br /> +My joy was ever deeper than my sorrow,<br /> + My gain was ever greater than my loss,<br /> +My yesterday seemed less than my to-morrow,<br /> + The crown looked always larger than the cross.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page22"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +22</span>‘I have known love, in all its radiant +splendour,<br /> + It shone upon my pathway to the end.<br /> +I trod no road that did not bloom with tender<br /> + And fragrant blossoms, planted by some friend.<br /> +And those material things we call successes,<br /> + In modest measure, crowned my earthly lot.<br /> +Yet was there one sweet happiness that blesses<br /> + The life of woman, which to me came not.</p> +<p class="poetry">‘I knew the hope of motherhood; a +season<br /> + I felt a fluttering heart beat ’neath my +own;<br /> +A little cry—then silence. For that reason<br /> + I dare, to you, my only wish make known.<br /> +The babe who grew to angelhood in heaven,<br /> + I never watched unfold from child to man.<br /> +And so I ask, that unto me be given<br /> + That motherhood, which was God’s primal +plan.</p> +<p class="poetry">‘All womankind He meant to share its +glories;<br /> + He meant us all to nurse our babes to rest.<br /> +To croon them songs, to tell them sleepy stories,<br /> + Else why the wonder of a woman’s breast?<br /> +He must provide for all earth’s cheated mothers<br /> + In His vast heavens of shining sphere on sphere,<br +/> +And with my son, there must be many others—<br /> + My spirit children who will claim me here.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page23"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +23</span>‘Fair creatures by my loving thoughts +created—<br /> + Too finely fashioned for a mortal birth—<br /> +Between the borders of two worlds they waited<br /> + Until they saw my spirit leave the earth.<br /> +In God’s great nursery they must be waiting<br /> + To welcome me with many an infant wile.<br /> +Now let me go and satisfy this longing<br /> + To mother children for a little while.’</p> +<h2><a name="page24"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +24</span>SLEEP’S TREACHERY</h2> +<p class="poetry">As the grey twilight, tiptoed down the deep<br +/> + And shadowy valley, to the day’s dark end,<br +/> + She whom I thought my ever-faithful friend,<br /> +Fair-browed, calm-eyed and mother-bosomed Sleep,<br /> +Met me with smiles. ‘Poor longing heart, I keep<br /> + Sweet joy for you,’ she murmured. +‘I will send<br /> + One whom you love, with your own soul to blend<br /> +In visions, as the night hours onward creep.’</p> +<p class="poetry">I trusted her; and watched by starry beams,<br +/> + I slumbered soundly, free from all alarms.<br /> + Then not my love, but one long +banished came,<br /> +Led by false Sleep, down secret stairs of dreams<br /> + And clasped me, unresisting in fond arms.<br /> + Oh, treacherous sleep—to +sell me to such shame!</p> +<h2><a name="page25"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 25</span>ART +<i>VERSUS</i> CUPID</h2> +<p>[<i>A room in a private house</i>. <i>A maiden sitting +before a fire meditating</i>.]</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Maiden</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Now have I fully fixed upon my part.<br /> +Good-bye to dreams; for me a life of art!<br /> +Beloved art! Oh, realm serene and fair,<br /> +Above the mean and sordid world of care,<br /> +Above earth’s small ambitions and desires!<br /> +Art! art! the very word my soul inspires!<br /> +From foolish memories it sets me free.<br /> +Not what has been, but that which is to be<br /> +Absorbs me now. Adieu to vain regret!<br /> +The bow is tensely drawn—the target set.</p> +<p style="text-align: right">[<i>A knock at the door</i>.]</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Maid</span> +(<i>aside</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">The night is dark and chill; the hour is +late.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page26"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 26</span>(<i>Aloud</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">Who knocks upon my door?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>A Voice Outside</i></p> +<p class="poetry">’Tis I, your fate!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Maid</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Thou dost deceive, not me, but thine own +self.<br /> +My fate is not a wandering, vagrant elf.<br /> +My fate is here, within this throbbing heart<br /> +That beats alone for glory, and for art.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><i>Voice</i></p> +<p style="text-align: center">[<i>Another knock at door</i>.]</p> +<p class="poetry">Pray, let me in; I am so faint and cold.</p> +<p>[<i>Door is pushed ajar</i>. <i>Enter</i> <span +class="smcap">Cupid</span>, <i>who approaches the fire with +outstretched hands</i>.]</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Maid</span> +(<i>indignantly</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">Methinks thou art not faint, however cold,<br +/> +But rather too courageous, and most bold;<br /> +Surprisingly ill-mannered, sir, and rude,<br /> +Without an invitation to intrude<br /> +Into my very presence.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page27"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 27</span><span class="smcap">Cupid</span> +(<i>warming his hands</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry"> But, you see,<br /> +Girls never mind a little chap like me.<br /> +They’re always watching for me on the sly,<br /> +And hoping I will call.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Maid</span> +(<i>haughtily</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry"> Indeed, not I!<br /> +My heart has listened to a sweeter voice,<br /> +A clarion call that gives command—not choice.<br /> +And I have answered to that call, ‘I come’;<br /> +To other voices shall my ears be dumb.<br /> +To art alone I consecrate my life—<br /> +Art is my spouse, and I his willing wife.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Cupid</span> +(<i>slowly</i>, <i>gazing in the grate</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">Art is a sultan, and you must divide<br /> +His love with many another ill-fed bride.<br /> +Now I know one who worships you alone.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Maid</span> +(<i>impatiently</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">I will not listen! for the dice is thrown<br /> +And art has won me. On my brow some day<br /> +Shall rest the laurel wreath—</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page28"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 28</span><span class="smcap">Cupid</span> +(<i>sitting down and looking at</i> <span +class="smcap">Maid</span> <i>critically</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry"> Just let me say<br /> +I think sweet orange blossoms under lace<br /> +Are better suited to your type of face.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Maid</span> +(<i>ignoring interruption</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">I yet shall stand before an audience<br /> +That listens as one mind, absorbed, intense,<br /> +And with my genius I shall rouse its cheers,<br /> +Still it to silence, soften it to tears,<br /> +Or wake its laughter. Oh, the play! the play!<br /> +The play’s the thing! My boy, <i>the play</i>!!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Cupid</span> +(<i>suddenly clapping his hands</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry"> Oh, say!<br /> +I know a splendid role for you to take,<br /> +And one that always keeps the house awake—<br /> +And calls for pretty dressing. Oh, it’s great!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Maid</span> +(<i>excitedly</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">Well, well, what is it? Wherefore make me +wait?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Cupid</span> +(<i>tapping his brow</i>, <i>thoughtfully</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">How is it those lines run—oh, now I +know;<br /> +You make a stately entrance—measured—slow—<br +/> +<a name="page29"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 29</span>To +stirring music, then you kneel and say<br /> +Something about—to honour and obey—<br /> +For better and for worse—till death do part.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Maid</span> +(<i>angrily</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">Be still, you foolish boy; that is not +<i>art</i>.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Cupid</span> +(<i>seriously</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">She needs great skill who takes the role of +wife<br /> +In God’s stupendous drama human life.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Maid</span> +(<i>suddenly becoming serious</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">So I once thought! Oh, once my very +soul<br /> +Was filled and thrilled with dreaming of that role.<br /> +Life seemed so wonderful; it held for me<br /> +No purpose, no ambition, but to be<br /> +Loving and loved. My highest thought of fame<br /> +Was some day bearing my dear lover’s name.<br /> +Alone, I ofttimes uttered it aloud,<br /> +Or wrote it down, half timid, and all proud<br /> +To see myself lost utterly in him:<br /> +As some small star might joy in growing dim<br /> +When sinking in the sun; or as the dew,<br /> +Forgetting the brief little life it knew<br /> +In space, might on the ocean’s bosom fall<br /> +And ask for nothing—only to give all.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page30"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 30</span><span class="smcap">Cupid</span> +(<i>aside</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">Now, <i>that’s</i> the +talk—it’s music to my ear<br /> +After that stuff on ‘art’ and a +‘career.’<br /> +I hope she’ll keep it up.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Maiden</span> +(<i>continuing her reverie</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry"> Again my dream<br /> +Shaped into changing pictures. I would seem<br /> +To see myself in beautiful array<br /> +Move down the aisle upon my wedding day;<br /> +And then I saw the modest living-room<br /> +With lighted lamp, and fragrant plants in bloom,<br /> +And books and sewing scattered all about,<br /> +And just we two alone.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Cupid</span> +(<i>in glee aside</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry"> There’s not a doubt<br +/> +I’ll land her yet!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Maiden</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> My dream kaleidoscope<br /> +Changed still again, and framed love’s dearest +hope—<br /> +The trinity of home; and life was good<br /> +And all its deepest meaning understood.</p> +<p><a name="page31"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +31</span>[<i>Sits lost in a dream</i>. <i>Behind scenes a +voice sings a lullaby</i>, ‘<i>Beautiful Land of +Nod</i>.’ <span class="smcap">Cupid</span> <i>in +ecstasy tiptoes about and clasps his hands in delight</i>.]</p> +<p class="poetry">Another scene! a matron in her prime,<br /> +I saw myself glide peacefully with time<br /> +Into the quiet middle years, content<br /> +With simple joys the dear home circle lent.<br /> +My sons and daughters made my diadem;<br /> +I saw my happy youth renewed in them.<br /> +The pain of growing old lost all its sting,<br /> +For Love stood near—in Winter, as in Spring.</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Cupid</span> <i>tiptoes to door and makes +a signal</i>. <span class="smcap">Maiden</span> <i>starts +up dramatically</i>.]</p> +<p class="poetry">’Twas but a dream! I woke all +suddenly.<br /> +The world had changed! And now life means to me<br /> +My art—the stage—excitement and the crowd—<br +/> +The glare of many foot-lights—and the loud<br /> +Applause of men, as I cry in rage,<br /> +‘Give me the dagger!’ or creep down the stage<br /> +In that sleep-walking scene. Oh, art like mine<br /> +Will send the chills down every listener’s spine!<br /> +And when I choose, salt tears shall freely flow<br /> +As in the moonlight I cry, ‘Romeo! Romeo!<br /> +<a name="page32"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 32</span>Oh, +wherefore art thou, Romeo?’<br /> + Ay, ’tis +done<br /> +My dream of home life.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Cupid</span></p> +<p +class="poetry"> It +is but begun.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Maiden</span></p> +<p class="poetry">The heart but once can dream a dream so +fair,<br /> +And so henceforth love thoughts I do forswear;<br /> +Since faith in love has crumbled to the dust,<br /> +In fame alone, I put my hope and trust.</p> +<p>[<span class="smcap">Cupid</span> <i>at the door beckons +excitedly</i>. <i>Enter lover with outstretched +arms</i>.]</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Cupid</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Here’s one who will explain yourself to +you<br /> +And make that old sweet dream of love come true.<br /> +Fix up your foolish quarrel; time is brief—<br /> +So waste no more of it in doubt or grief.</p> +<p>[<i>The lovers meet and embrace</i>.]</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Cupid</span> +(<i>in doorway</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">Warm lip to lip, and heart to beating heart,<br +/> +The cast is made—My Lady has her part.</p> +<p style="text-align: center">CURTAIN</p> +<h2><a name="page33"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 33</span>THE +REVOLT OF VASHTI<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">(FROM THE DRAMA OF MIZPAH)</span></h2> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Is this the way to greet thy loving spouse,<br +/> +But now returned from scenes of blood and strife?<br /> +I pray thee raise thy veil and let me gaze<br /> +Upon that beauty which hath greater power<br /> +To conquer me than all the arts of war!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Vashti</span></p> +<p class="poetry">My beauty! Ay, my <i>beauty</i>! I +do hold,<br /> +In thy regard, no more an honoured place<br /> +Than yonder marble pillar, or the gold<br /> +And jewelled wine-cup which thy lips caress.<br /> +Thou wouldst degrade me in the people’s sight!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Degrade thee, Vashti? Rather do I seek<br +/> +To show my people who are gathered here<br /> +<a name="page34"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 34</span>How, as +the consort of so fair a queen,<br /> +I feel more pride than as the mighty king:<br /> +For there be many rulers on the earth,<br /> +But only <i>one</i> such queen. Come, raise thy veil!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Vashti</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Ay! only <i>one</i> such queen! A queen +is one<br /> +Who shares her husband’s greatness and his throne.<br /> +I am no more than yonder dancing girl<br /> +Who struts and smirks before a royal court!<br /> +But I will loose my veil and loose my tongue!<br /> +Now listen, sire—my master and my king;<br /> +And let thy princes and the court give ear!<br /> +’Tis time all heard how Vashti feels her shame.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Shame is no word to couple with thy name!<br /> +Shame and a spotless woman may not meet,<br /> +Even in a sentence. Choose another word.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Vashti</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Ay, <i>shame</i>, my lord—there is no +synonym<br /> +That can give voice to my ignoble state.<br /> +To be a thing for eyes to gaze upon,<br /> +Yet held an outcast from thy heart and mind;<br /> +<a name="page35"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 35</span>To hear my +beauty praised but not my worth;<br /> +To come and go at Pleasure’s beck and call,<br /> +While barred from Wisdom’s conclaves! Think ye +<i>that</i><br /> +A noble calling for a noble dame?<br /> +Why, any concubine amongst thy train<br /> +Could play my royal part as well as I—<br /> +Were she as fair!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Queen +Vashti, art thou <i>mad</i>?<br /> +I would behead another did he dare<br /> +To so besmirch thee with comparison.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="smcap">Vashti</span> +(<i>to the court</i>)</p> +<p class="poetry">Gaze now your fill! Behold Queen +Vashti’s eyes!<br /> +How large they gleam beneath her inch of brow!<br /> +How like a great white star, her splendid face<br /> +Shines through the midnight forest of her hair!<br /> +And see the crushed pomegranate of her mouth!<br /> +Observe her arms, her throat, her gleaming breasts,<br /> +Whereon the royal jewels rise and fall!—<br /> +And note the crescent curving of her hips,<br /> +And lovely limbs suggested ’neath her robes!<br /> +<a name="page36"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 36</span>Gaze, +gaze, I say, for these have made her queen!<br /> +She hath no mind, no heart, no dignity,<br /> +Worth royal recognition and regard;<br /> +But her fair body approbation meets<br /> +And whets the sated appetite of kings!<br /> +Now ye have seen what she was bid to show.<br /> +The queen hath played her part and begs to go.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Ay, Vashti, go and never more return!<br /> +Not only hast thou wronged thine own true lord,<br /> +And mocked and shamed me in the people’s eyes,<br /> +But thou hast wronged all princes and all men<br /> +By thy pernicious and rebellious ways.<br /> +Queens act and subjects imitate. So let<br /> +Queen Vashti weigh her conduct and her words,<br /> +Or be no more called ‘queen!’</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Vashti</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I was a princess ere I was a queen,<br /> +And worthy of a better fate than this!<br /> +There lies the crown that made me queen in name!<br /> +Here stands the woman—wife in name alone!<br /> +Now, no more queen—nor wife—but woman still—<br +/> +Ay, and a woman strong enough to be<br /> +Her own avenger.</p> +<h2><a name="page37"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 37</span>THE +CHOOSING OF ESTHER<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">(FROM THE DRAMA OF MIZPAH)</span></h2> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Tell me thy name!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">My name, great sire, is Esther.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">So thou art Esther? Esther! ’tis a +name<br /> +Breathed into sound as softly as a sigh.<br /> +A woman’s name should melt upon the lips<br /> +Like Love’s first kisses, and thy countenance<br /> +Is fit companion for so sweet a name!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Thou art most kind. I would my name and +face<br /> +Were mine own making and not accident.<br /> +Then I might feel elated at thy praise,<br /> +Where now I feel confusion.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page38"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 38</span><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Thou hast +wit<br /> +As well as beauty, Esther. Both are gems<br /> +That do embellish woman in man’s sight.<br /> +Yet they are gems of second magnitude!<br /> +Dost <i>thou</i> possess the one great perfect gem—<br /> +The matchless jewel of the world called <i>love</i>?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Sire, in the heart of every woman dwells<br /> +That wondrous perfect gem!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Then, +Esther, speak!<br /> +And tell me what is <i>love</i>! I fain would know<br /> +Thy definition of that much-mouthed word,<br /> +By woman most employed—least understood.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What can a humble Jewish maiden know<br /> +That would instruct a warrior and a king?<br /> +I have but dreamed of love as maidens will<br /> +While thou hast known its fulness. All the world<br /> +Loves Great Ahasueras!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page39"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 39</span><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> All the +world<br /> +<i>Fears great</i> Ahasueras! Kings, my child,<br /> +Are rarely loved as anything but kings.<br /> +Love, as I see it in the court and camp,<br /> +Means seeking royal favour. I would know<br /> +How love is fashioned in a maiden’s dreams.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Sire, love seeks nothing that kings can +bestow.<br /> +Love is the king of all kings here below;<br /> +Love makes the monarch but a bashful boy,<br /> +Love makes the peasant monarch in his joy;<br /> +Love seeks not place, all places are the same,<br /> +When lighted by the radiance of love’s flame.<br /> +Who deems proud love could fawn to power and splendour<br /> +Hath known not love, but some base-born pretender.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">If this be love, I would know more of it.<br /> +Speak on, fair Esther! What is love beside?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Love is in all things, all things are in +love.<br /> +Love is the earth, the sea, the skies above;<br /> +<a name="page40"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 40</span>Love is +the bird, the blossom, and the wind;<br /> +Love hath a million eyes, yet love is blind;<br /> +Love is a tempest, awful in its might;<br /> +Love is the silence of a moon-lit night;<br /> +Love is the aim of every human soul;<br /> +And he who hath not loved hath missed life’s goal!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">But tell me of thyself, of thine own dreams!<br +/> +How wouldst thou love, and how be loved again?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Who most doth love thinks least of love’s +return;<br /> +She is content to feel the passion burn<br /> +In her own bosom, and its sacred fire<br /> +Consumes each selfish purpose and desire.<br /> +’Tis in the giving, love’s best rapture lies,<br /> +Not in the counting of the things it buys.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yet, is there not vast anguish and despair<br +/> +In love that finds no answering word or smile?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">So radiant is love, it lends a glow<br /> +To each dark sorrow and to every woe.<br /> +<a name="page41"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 41</span>To love +completely is to part with pain,<br /> +Nor is there mortal who can love in vain.<br /> +Love is its own reward, it pays full measure,<br /> +And in love’s sharpest grief lies subtlest pleasure.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Methinks, a mighty warrior, lord or king<br /> +Must in thy fancy play the lover’s part;<br /> +None else could wake such reverential thought.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">When woman loves one born of lowly state,<br /> +Her thought gives crown and sceptre to her mate;<br /> +Yet be he king, or chief of some great clan,<br /> +She loves him but as woman loves a man.<br /> +Monarch or peasant, ’tis the same, I wis<br /> +When once she gives him love’s surrendering kiss.</p> +<h2><a name="page42"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +42</span>HONEYMOON SCENE<br /> +<span class="GutSmall">(FROM THE DRAMA OF MIZPAH)</span></h2> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">What were thy thoughts, sweet Esther? +Something passed<br /> +Across thy face, that for a moment veiled<br /> +Thy soul from mine, and left me desolate.<br /> +Thy thoughts were not of me?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Ay, +<i>all</i> of thee!<br /> +I wondered, if in truth, thou wert content<br /> +With me—thy choice. Was there no other one<br /> +Of all who passed before thee at thy court<br /> +Whose memory pursues thee with regret?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">I do confess I much regret that day<br /> +And wish I could relive it.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page43"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 43</span><span class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Oh! +My lord!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yea! I regret those hours I wasted on<br +/> +The poor procession that preceded thee.<br /> +Hadst thou come first, then all the added wealth</p> +<p class="poetry"> Of one long day of loving +thee were mine—<br /> +A boundless fortune squandered. Though I live<br /> +To three score years and ten, as I do hope,<br /> +In wedded love beside thee, that one day<br /> +Was filched from me and cannot be restored.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">And then to think how frightened and abashed<br +/> +I hung outside thy gates from early morn,<br /> +Not daring to go in and meet thine eyes,<br /> +Till pitying twilight clothed me in her veil,<br /> +And evening walked beside me to thy door.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">So it was thou, fair thief, who stole that +day,<br /> +And made me poorer, by—how many hours?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Full eight, I think. They seemed a +hundred then,<br /> +And now time flies a hundred times too fast.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page44"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 44</span><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Then eight more kisses do I claim from thee,<br +/> +This very hour—first tithes of many due.<br /> +I shall exact these payments as I will,<br /> +And if they be not ready on demand,<br /> +I’ll lock thee in the prison of my arms,<br /> +Like this—and take them so—and so—and so!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">But kings must think of other things than +love<br /> +And live for other aims than happiness.<br /> +I would not drag thee from thy altitude<br /> +Of mighty ruler and great conqueror<br /> +To chain thee by my side.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Such +slavery<br /> +Would please me better than to conquer earth<br /> +Without thee, Esther. I have stood on heights<br /> +And heard the cheers of multitudes below;<br /> +Have known the loneliness of being great.<br /> +Now, let me live and love thee, like a man,<br /> +Forgetting I am king—<br /> +I am content.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page45"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 45</span><span class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Content is not the pathway to great deeds.<br +/> +As man, I hold thee higher than all kings;<br /> +As king, thou must stand higher than all men<br /> +In other eyes. Let no one say of me:<br /> +‘She spoiled his greatness by her littleness;<br /> +She made a languorous lover of a king,<br /> +And silenced war-cries on commanding lips—<br /> +With honeyed kisses; made her woman’s arms<br /> +Preferred to armour, and her couch to tents,<br /> +Until the kingdom, with no guiding hand,<br /> +Plunged down to ruin.’</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Thou +wouldst have me go—<br /> +So soon thy heart hath wearied?</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry">My heart is bursting with its love for thee!<br +/> +Canst thou not feel its fervour? But great men<br /> +Need wiser guidance than a woman’s heart.<br /> +My pride in thee is equal to my love,<br /> +And I would have thee greater than thou art—<br /> +Ay, greater than all other men on earth—<br /> +Though forced long years to feed my hungry heart<br /> +<a name="page46"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 46</span>On food of +memories and wine of tears,<br /> +Wert thou but winning glory and renown.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Thou art most noble, Esther; thou art fit<br /> +To be the consort of a king of kings.<br /> +But I have chewed upon ambition’s husks<br /> +And starved for love through all my manhood’s years;<br /> +And now the mighty gods have seen it fit<br /> +To spread love’s banquet and to name thee host,<br /> +May I not feast my fill? O Esther, take<br /> +The tempting nectar of those lips away<br /> +And give me wine to rouse the brute in me,<br /> +To make me thirst for blood instead of love!<br /> +Wine! Wine! I say!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Esther</span></p> +<p class="poetry"> Ahasueras, +wait!<br /> +Methinks good music is wine turned to sound.<br /> +Here comes thy minstrel with an offering<br /> +Pressed from the ripened fruit of my fond heart.<br /> +Mine own the words and mine the melody<br /> +And may it linger longer in thine ear<br /> +Than on thy lip would stay the taste of wine.<br /> +Sing on!</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><a name="page47"></a><span +class="pagenum">p. 47</span><span +class="smcap">Minstrel</span></p> +<p class="poetry">When from the field returning,<br /> +Love is a warrior’s yearning,<br /> +Love in his heart is burning,<br /> + Love is his dream.<br /> +Talk not to him of glory,<br /> +Speak not of faces gory,<br /> +Sing of love’s tender story,<br /> + Make it thy theme.<br /> +Sing of his lady’s tresses,<br /> +Sing of the smile that blesses,<br /> +Sing of the sweet caresses,<br /> + And yet again<br /> +Sing of fair children’s faces,<br /> +Sing of the dear home graces,<br /> +Sing till the vacant places,<br /> + Ring with thy strain.<br /> +Yet as the days go speeding,<br /> +Shall he arise unheeding<br /> +Love songs or words of pleading,<br /> + Strong in his might!<br /> +Helmet and armour wearing,<br /> +Hies he to deeds of daring,<br /> +Forth to the battle faring,<br /> + Back to the fight.<br /> +<a name="page48"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 48</span>Sing now +of ranks contending,<br /> +Sing of loud voices blending,<br /> +Sing of great warriors sending<br /> + Death to their foes!<br /> +Sing of war missiles humming,<br /> +Strike into martial drumming,<br /> +Sing of great victory coming,<br /> + As forth he goes.<br /> +Back to the battle faring,<br /> +Back into deeds of daring,<br /> + Back to the fight.</p> +<p style="text-align: center"><span +class="smcap">Ahasueras</span></p> +<p class="poetry">No less a lover but a greater man,<br /> +A better warrior and a nobler king,<br /> +I will be from this hour for thy dear sake.</p> +<h2><a name="page49"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 49</span>THE +COST</h2> +<p class="poetry">God finished woman in the twilight hour<br /> +And said, ‘To-morrow thou shalt find thy place:<br /> +Man’s complement, the mother of the race—<br /> + With love the motive power—<br /> + The one compelling power.’</p> +<p class="poetry">All night she dreamed and wondered. With +the light<br /> +Her lover came—and then she understood<br /> +The purpose of her being. Life was good<br /> + And all the world seemed right—<br /> + And nothing was, but right.</p> +<p class="poetry">She had no wish for any wider sway:<br /> +By all the questions of the world unvexed,<br /> +Supremely loving and superbly sexed,<br /> + She passed upon her way—<br /> + Her feminine fair way.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page50"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +50</span>But God neglected, when He fashioned man,<br /> +To fuse the molten splendour of his mind<br /> +With that sixth sense He gave to womankind.<br /> + And so He marred His plan—<br /> + Ay, marred His own great plan.</p> +<p class="poetry">She asked so little, and so much she gave,<br +/> +That man grew selfish: and she soon became,<br /> +To God’s great sorrow and the whole world’s shame,<br +/> + Man’s sweet and patient slave—<br /> + His uncomplaining slave.</p> +<p class="poetry">Yet in the nights (oh! nights so dark and +long)<br /> +She clasped her little children to her breast<br /> +And wept. And in her anguish of unrest<br /> + She thought upon her wrong;<br /> + She knew how great her wrong.</p> +<p class="poetry">And one sad hour, she said unto her heart,<br +/> +‘Since thou art cause of all my bitter pain,<br /> +I bid thee abdicate the throne: let brain<br /> + Rule now, and do his part—<br /> + His masterful, strong part.’</p> +<p class="poetry">She wept no more. By new ambition +stirred<br /> +Her ways led out, to regions strange and vast.<br /> +<a name="page51"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 51</span>Men stood +aside and watched, dismayed, aghast,<br /> + And all the world demurred—<br /> + Misjudged her, and demurred.</p> +<p class="poetry">Still on and up, from sphere to widening +sphere,<br /> +Till thorny paths bloomed with the rose of fame.<br /> +Who once demurred, now followed with acclaim:<br /> + The hiss died in the cheer—<br /> + The loud applauding cheer.</p> +<p class="poetry">She stood triumphant in that radiant hour,<br +/> +Man’s mental equal, and competitor.<br /> +But ah! the cost! from out the heart of her<br /> + Had gone love’s motive power—<br /> + Love’s all-compelling power.</p> +<h2><a name="page52"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 52</span>THE +VOICE</h2> +<p class="poetry">I dreamed a Voice, of one God-authorised,<br /> +Cried loudly thro’ the world, ‘Disarm! +Disarm!’<br /> +And there was consternation in the camps;<br /> +And men who strutted under braid and lace<br /> +Beat on their medalled breasts, and wailed, +‘Undone!’<br /> +The word was echoed from a thousand hills,<br /> +And shop and mill, and factory and forge,<br /> +Where throve the awful industries of death,<br /> +Hushed into silence. Scrawled upon the doors,<br /> +The passer read, ‘Peace bids her children starve.’<br +/> +But foolish women clasped their little sons<br /> +And wept for joy, not reasoning like men.</p> +<p class="poetry">Again the Voice commanded: ‘Now go +forth<br /> +And build a world for Progress and for Peace.<br /> +This work has waited since the earth was shaped;<br /> +But men were fighting, and they could not toil.<br /> +<a name="page53"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 53</span>The needs +of life outnumber needs of death.<br /> +Leave death with God. Go forth, I say, and +build.’</p> +<p class="poetry">And then a sudden, comprehensive joy<br /> +Shone in the eyes of men; and one who thought<br /> +Only of conquests and of victories<br /> +Woke from his gloomy reverie and cried,<br /> +‘Ay, come and build! I challenge all to try.<br /> +And I will make a world more beautiful<br /> +Than Eden was before the serpent came.’<br /> +And like a running flame on western wilds,<br /> +Ambition spread from mind to listening mind,<br /> +And lo! the looms were busy once again,<br /> +And all the earth resounded with men’s toil.</p> +<p class="poetry">Vast palaces of Science graced the world;<br /> +Their banquet tables spread with feasts of truth<br /> +For all who hungered. Music kissed the air,<br /> +Once rent with boom of cannons. Statues gleamed<br /> +From wooded ways, where ambushed armies hid<br /> +In times of old. The sea and air were gay<br /> +With shining sails that soared from land to land.<br /> +A universal language of the world<br /> +Made nations kin, and poverty was known</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page54"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +54</span>But as a word marked ‘obsolete,’ like +war.<br /> +The arts were kindled with celestial fire;<br /> +New poets sang so Homer’s fame grew dim;<br /> +And brush and chisel gave the wondering race<br /> +Sublimer treasures than old Greece displayed.<br /> +Men differed still; fierce argument arose,<br /> +For men are human in this human sphere;<br /> +But unarmed Arbitration stood between<br /> +And Reason settled in a hundred hours<br /> +What War disputed for a hundred years.</p> +<p class="poetry">Oh, that a Voice, of one God-authorised<br /> +Might cry to all mankind, Disarm! Disarm!</p> +<h2><a name="page55"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +55</span>GOD’S ANSWER</h2> +<p class="poetry">Once in a time of trouble and of care<br /> +I dreamed I talked with God about my pain;<br /> +With sleepland courage, daring to complain<br /> +Of what I deemed ungracious and unfair.<br /> +‘Lord, I have grovelled on my knees in prayer<br /> + Hour after hour,’ I cried; ‘yet all in +vain;<br /> + No hand leads up to heights I would attain,<br /> +No path is shown me out of my despair.’</p> +<p class="poetry">Then answered God: ‘Three things I gave +to thee—<br /> + Clear brain, brave will, and strength of mind and +heart,<br /> + All implements divine, to shape +the way.<br /> +Why shift the burden of thy toil on Me?<br /> + Till to the utmost he has done his part<br /> + With all his might, let no man +<i>dare</i> to pray.’</p> +<h2><a name="page56"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 56</span>THE +EDICT OF THE SEX</h2> +<p class="poetry">Two thousand years had passed since Christ was +born,<br /> +When suddenly there rose a mighty host<br /> +Of women, sweeping to a central goal<br /> +As many rivers sweep on to the sea.<br /> +They came from mountains, valleys, and from coasts,<br /> +And from all lands, all nations, and all ranks,<br /> +Speaking all languages, but thinking one.<br /> +And that one language—Peace.</p> +<p +class="poetry"> ‘Listen,’ +they said,<br /> +And straightway was there silence on the earth,<br /> +For men were dumb with wonder and surprise.<br /> +‘Listen, O mighty masters of the world,<br /> +And hear the edict of all womankind:<br /> +Since Christ His new commandment gave to men,<br /> +<i>Love one another</i>, full two thousand years<br /> +Have passed away, yet earth is red with blood.<br /> +<a name="page57"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 57</span>The strong +male rulers of the world proclaim<br /> +Their weakness, when we ask that war shall cease.<br /> +Now will the poor weak women of the world<br /> +Proclaim their strength, and say that war shall end.<br /> +Hear, then, our edict: Never from this day<br /> +Will any woman on the crust of earth<br /> +Mother a warrior. We have sworn the oath<br /> +And will go barren to the waiting tomb<br /> +Rather than breed strong sons at war’s behest,<br /> +Or bring fair daughters into life, to bear<br /> +The pains of travail, for no end but war.<br /> +Ay! let the race die out for lack of babes<br /> +Better a dying race than endless wars!<br /> +Better a silent world than noise of guns<br /> +And clash of armies.</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘Long +we asked for peace,<br /> +And oft you promised—but to fight again.<br /> +At last you told us, war must ever be<br /> +While men existed, laughing at our plea<br /> +For the disarmament of all mankind.<br /> +Then in our hearts flamed such a mad desire<br /> +For peace on earth, as lights the world at times<br /> +With some great conflagration; and it spread<br /> +From distant land to land, from sea to sea,<br /> +<a name="page58"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 58</span>Until all +women thought as with one mind<br /> +And spoke as with one voice; and now behold!<br /> +The great Crusading Syndicate of Peace,<br /> +Filling all space with one supreme resolve.<br /> +Give us, O men, your word that war shall end:<br /> +Disarm the world, and we will give you sons—<br /> +Sons to construct, and daughters to adorn<br /> +A beautiful new earth, where there shall be<br /> +Fewer and finer people, opulence<br /> +And opportunity and peace for all.<br /> +Until you promise peace no shrill birth-cry<br /> +Shall sound again upon the aging earth.<br /> +We wait your answer.’</p> +<p class="poetry"> And the +world was still<br /> +While men considered.</p> +<h2><a name="page59"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 59</span>THE +WORLD-CHILD</h2> +<p class="poetry">At times I am the mother of the world;<br /> +And mine seem all its sorrows, and its fears.<br /> +That rose, which in each mother-heart is curled,<br /> + The rose of pity, opens with my tears,<br /> +And, waking in the night, I lie and hark<br /> + To the lone sobbing, and the wild alarms,<br /> +Of my World-child, a wailing in the dark:<br /> + The child I fain would shelter in my arms.<br /> +I call to it (as from another room<br /> + A mother calls, what time she cannot go):<br /> +‘Sleep well, dear world; Love hides behind this gloom.<br +/> + There is no need for wakefulness or woe,<br /> +The long, long night is almost past and gone,<br /> +The day is near.’ And yet the world weeps on.</p> +<p class="poetry">Again I follow it, throughout the day.<br /> + With anxious eyes I see it trip and fall,<br /> +<a name="page60"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 60</span>And hurt +itself in many a foolish way:<br /> + Childlike, unheeding warning word or call.<br /> +I see it grasp, and grasping, break the toys<br /> + It cried to own, then toss them on the floor<br /> +And, breathless, hurry after fancied joys<br /> + That cease to please, when added to its store.<br /> +I see the lacerations on its hands,<br /> + Made by forbidden tools; but when it weeps,<br /> +I also weep, as one who understands;<br /> + And having been a child, the memory keeps.<br /> +Ah, my poor world, however wrong thy part,<br /> +Still is there pity in my mother-heart.</p> +<h2><a name="page61"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 61</span>THE +HEIGHTS</h2> +<p class="poetry">I cried, ‘Dear Angel, lead me to the +heights,<br /> + And spur me to the top.’<br /> + The Angel answered, ‘Stop<br /> +And set thy house in order; make it fair<br /> +For absent ones who may be speeding there.<br /> + Then will we talk of heights.’</p> +<p class="poetry">I put my house in order. ‘Now lead +on!’<br /> + The Angel said, ‘Not yet;<br /> + Thy garden is beset<br /> +By thorns and tares; go weed it, so all those<br /> +Who come to gaze may find the unvexed rose;<br /> + Then will we journey on.’</p> +<p class="poetry">I weeded well my garden. ‘All is +done.’<br /> + The Angel shook his head.<br /> + ‘A beggar stands,’ he said,<br /> +<a name="page62"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +62</span>‘Outside thy gates; till thou hast given heed<br +/> +And soothed his sorrow, and supplied his need,<br /> + Say not that all is done.’</p> +<p class="poetry">The beggar left me singing. ‘Now at +last—<br /> + At last the path is clear.’<br /> + ‘Nay, there is one draws near<br /> +Who seeks, like thee, the difficult highway.<br /> +He lacks thy courage; cheer him through the day<br /> + Then will we cry, “At last!”’</p> +<p class="poetry">I helped my weaker brother. ‘Now +the heights;<br /> + Oh, Guide me, Angel, guide!’<br /> + The Presence at my side,<br /> +With radiant face, said, ‘Look, where are we now?’<br +/> +And lo! we stood upon the mountain’s brow—<br /> + The heights, the shining heights!</p> +<h2><a name="page63"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 63</span>ON +SEEING ‘THE HOUSE OF JULIA’ AT HERCULANEUM</h2> +<p class="poetry">Not great Vesuvius, in all his ire,<br /> +Nor all the centuries, could hide your shame.<br /> +There is the little window where you came,<br /> +With eyes that woke the demon of desire,<br /> +And lips like rose leaves, fashioned out of fire;<br /> + And from the lava leaps the molten flame<br /> + Of your old sins. The walls cry out your +name—<br /> +Your face seems rising from the funeral pyre.</p> +<p class="poetry">There must have dwelt, within your fated +town,<br /> + Full many a virtuous dame, and noble wife<br /> + Who made your beauty seem as star +to sun;<br /> +How strange the centuries have handed down<br /> + Your name, fair Julia, of immoral life,<br /> + And left the others to +oblivion.</p> +<h2><a name="page64"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 64</span>A +PRAYER</h2> +<p class="poetry">Master of sweet and loving lore,<br /> + Give us the open mind<br /> +To know religion means no more,<br /> + No less, than being kind.</p> +<p class="poetry">Give us the comprehensive sight<br /> + That sees another’s need;<br /> +And let our aim to set things right<br /> + Prove God inspired our creed.</p> +<p class="poetry">Give us the soul to know our kin<br /> + That dwell in flock and herd,<br /> +The voice to fight man’s shameful sin<br /> + Against the beast and bird.</p> +<p class="poetry">Give us a heart with love so fraught<br /> + For all created things,<br /> +That even our unspoken thought<br /> + Bears healing on its wings.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page65"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +65</span>Give us religion that will cope<br /> + With life’s colossal woes,<br /> +And turn a radiant face of hope<br /> + On troops of pigmy foes.</p> +<p class="poetry">Give us the mastery of our fate<br /> + In thoughts so warm and white,<br /> +They stamp upon the brows of hate<br /> + Love’s glorious seal of light.</p> +<p class="poetry">Give us the strong, courageous faith<br /> + That makes of pain a friend,<br /> +And calls the secret word of death<br /> + ‘Beginning,’ and not +‘end.’</p> +<h2><a name="page66"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 66</span>WHAT +IS RIGHT LIVING?</h2> +<p class="poetry">What is right living? Just to do your +best<br /> +When worst seems easier. To bear the ills<br /> +Of daily life with patient cheerfulness<br /> +Nor waste dear time recounting them.<br /> + To talk<br /> +Of hopeful things when doubt is in the air.<br /> +To count your blessings often, giving thanks,<br /> +And to accept your sorrows silently,<br /> +Nor question why you suffer. To accept<br /> +The whole of life as one perfected plan,<br /> +And welcome each event as part of it.<br /> +To work, and love your work; to trust, to pray<br /> +For larger usefulness and clearer sight.<br /> +This is right living, pleasing in God’s eyes,<br /> +Though you be heathen, heretic or Jew.</p> +<h2><a name="page67"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +67</span>JUSTICE</h2> +<p class="poetry">However inexplicable may seem<br /> + Event and circumstance upon this earth,<br /> +Though favours fall on those whom none esteem,<br /> + And insult and indifference greet worth;<br /> +Though poverty repays the life of toil,<br /> + And riches spring where idle feet have trod,<br /> +And storms lay waste the patiently tilled soil—<br /> + Yet Justice sways the universe of God.</p> +<p class="poetry">As undisturbed the stately stars remain<br /> + Beyond the glare of day’s obscuring light,<br +/> +So Justice dwells, though mortal eyes in vain<br /> + Seek it persistently by reason’s sight.<br /> +But when, once freed, the illumined soul looks out.<br /> +Its cry will be, ‘O God, how could I doubt!’</p> +<h2><a name="page68"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +68</span>TIME’S GAZE</h2> +<p class="poetry">Time looked me in the eyes while passing by<br +/> +The milestone of the year. That piercing gaze<br /> +Was both an accusation and reproach.<br /> +No speech was needed. In a sorrowing look<br /> +More meaning lies than in complaining words,<br /> +And silence hurts as keenly as reproof.</p> +<p class="poetry">Oh, opulent, kind giver of rich hours,<br /> +How have I used thy benefits! As babes<br /> +Unstring a necklace, laughing at the sound<br /> +Of priceless jewels dropping one by one,<br /> +So have I laughed while precious moments rolled<br /> +Into the hidden corners of the past.<br /> +And I have let large opportunities<br /> +For high endeavour move unheeded by,<br /> +While little joys and cares absorbed my strength.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page69"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +69</span>And yet, dear Time, set to my credit this:<br /> +<i>Not one white hour have I made black with hate</i>,<br /> +<i>Nor wished one living creature aught but good</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">Be patient with me. Though the sun slants +west,<br /> +The day has not yet finished, and I feel<br /> +Necessity for action and resolve<br /> +Bear in upon my consciousness. I know<br /> +The earth’s eternal need of earnest souls,<br /> +And the great hunger of the world for Love.<br /> +I know the goal to high achievement lies<br /> +Through the dull pathway of self-conquest first;<br /> +And on the stairs of little duties done<br /> +We climb to joys that stand thy test. O Time,<br /> +Be patient with me, and another day,<br /> +Perchance, in passing by, thine eyes may smile.</p> +<h2><a name="page70"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 70</span>THE +WORKER AND THE WORK</h2> +<p class="poetry">In what I do I note the marring flaw,<br /> +The imperfections of the work I see;<br /> +Nor am I one who rather <i>do</i> than <i>be</i>,<br /> +Since its reversal is Creation’s law.</p> +<p class="poetry">Nay, since there lies a better and a worse,<br +/> +A lesser and a larger, in men’s view,<br /> +I would be better than the thing I do,<br /> +As God is greater than His universe.</p> +<p class="poetry">He shaped Himself before He shaped one +world:<br /> +A million eons, toiling day and night,<br /> +He built Himself to majesty and might,<br /> +Before the planets into space were hurled.</p> +<p class="poetry">And when Creation’s early work was +done,<br /> +What crude beginnings out of chaos came—<br /> +A formless nebula, a wavering flame,<br /> +An errant comet, a voracious sun.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page71"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +71</span>And, still unable to perfect His plan,<br /> +What awful creatures at His touch found birth—<br /> +Those protoplasmic monsters of the earth,<br /> +That owned the world before He fashioned Man.</p> +<p class="poetry">And now, behold the poor unfinished state<br /> +Of this, His latest masterpiece! Then why,<br /> +Seeing the flaws in my own work, should I<br /> +Be troubled that no voice proclaims it great?</p> +<p class="poetry">Before me lie the cycling rounds of years;<br +/> +With this small earth will die the thing I do:<br /> +The thing I am, goes journeying onward through<br /> +A million lives, upon a million spheres.</p> +<p class="poetry">My work I build, as best I can and may,<br /> +Knowing all mortal effort ends in dust.<br /> +I build myself, not as I may, but must,<br /> +Knowing, or good, or ill, that self must stay.</p> +<p class="poetry">Along the ages, out, and on, afar,<br /> +Its journey leads, and must perforce be made.<br /> +Likewise its choice, with things of shame and shade,<br /> +Or up the path of light, from star to star.</p> +<p class="poetry">When all these solar systems shall disperse,<br +/> +Perchance this labour, and this self-control,<br /> +May find reward; and my completed soul<br /> +Will fling in space, a little universe.</p> +<h2><a name="page72"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 72</span>ART +THOU ALIVE?</h2> +<p class="poetry">Art thou alive? Nay, not too soon +reply,<br /> +Tho’ hand, and foot, and lip, and ear, and eye,<br /> +Respond, and do thy bidding yet may be<br /> +Grim death has done his direst work with thee.<br /> +Life, as God gives it, is a thing apart<br /> +From active body and from beating heart.<br /> +It is the vital spark, the unseen fire,<br /> +That moves the mind to reason and aspire;<br /> +It is the force that bids emotion roll,<br /> +In mighty billows from the surging soul.</p> +<p class="poetry">It is the light that grows from hour to +hour,<br /> +And floods the brain with consciousness of power;<br /> +It is the spirit dominating all,<br /> +And reaching God with its imperious call,<br /> +Until the shining glory of His face<br /> +Illuminates each sorrowful, dark place;</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page73"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +73</span>It is the truth that sets the bondsman free,<br /> +Knowing he will be what he wills to be.<br /> +With its unburied dead the earth is sad.<br /> +Art thou alive? proclaim it and be glad.<br /> +Perchance the dead may hear thee and arise,<br /> +Knowing they live, and <i>here</i> is Paradise.</p> +<h2><a name="page74"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +74</span>TO-DAY</h2> +<p class="poetry">I love this age of energy and force,<br /> + Expectantly I greet each pregnant hour;<br /> +Emerging from the all-creative source,<br /> + Supreme with promise, imminent with power.<br /> +The strident whistle and the clanging bell,<br /> + The noise of gongs, the rush of motored things<br /> +Are but the prophet voices which foretell<br /> + A time when thought may use unfettered wings.</p> +<p class="poetry">Too long the drudgery of earth has been<br /> + A barrier ’twixt man and his own mind.<br /> +Remove the stone, and lo! the Christ within;<br /> + For He is there, and who so seeks shall find.<br /> +The Great Inventor is the Modern Priest.<br /> + He paves the pathway to a higher goal.<br /> +Once from the grind of endless toil released<br /> + Man will explore the kingdom of his soul.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page75"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +75</span>And all this restless rush, this strain and strife,<br +/> + This noise and glare is but the fanfarade<br /> +That ushers in the more majestic life<br /> + Where faith shall walk with science, unafraid.<br /> +I feel the strong vibrations of the earth,<br /> + I sense the coming of an hour sublime,<br /> +And bless the star that watched above my birth<br /> + And let me live in this important time.</p> +<h2><a name="page76"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 76</span>THE +LADDER</h2> +<p class="poetry">Unto each mortal who comes to earth<br /> +A ladder is given by God, at birth,<br /> +And up this ladder the soul must go,<br /> +Step by step, from the valley below;<br /> +Step by step, to the centre of space,<br /> +On this ladder of lives, to the Starting Place.</p> +<p class="poetry">In time departed (which yet endures)<br /> +I shaped my ladder, and you shaped yours.<br /> +Whatever they are—they are what we made:<br /> +A ladder of light, or a ladder of shade,<br /> +A ladder of love, or a hateful thing,<br /> +A ladder of strength, or a wavering string.<br /> +A ladder of gold, or a ladder of straw,<br /> +Each is the ladder of righteous law.</p> +<p class="poetry">We flung them away at the call of death,<br /> +We took them again with the next life breath.<br /> +For a keeper stands by the great birth gates;<br /> +As each soul passes, its ladder waits.<br /> +<a name="page77"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 77</span>Though +mine be narrow, and yours be broad,<br /> +On my ladder alone can I climb to God.<br /> +On your ladder alone can your feet ascend,<br /> +For none may borrow, and none may lend.</p> +<p class="poetry">If toil and trouble and pain are found,<br /> +Twisted and corded, to form each round,<br /> +If rusted iron or mouldering wood<br /> +Is the fragile frame, you must make it good.<br /> +You must build it over and fashion it strong,<br /> +Though the task be hard as your life is long;<br /> +For up this ladder the pathway leads<br /> +To earthly pleasures and spirit needs;<br /> +And all that may come in another way<br /> +Shall be but illusion, and will not stay.</p> +<p class="poetry">In useless effort, then, waste no time;<br /> +Rebuild your ladder, and climb and climb.</p> +<h2><a name="page78"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 78</span>WHO IS +A CHRISTIAN?</h2> +<p class="poetry">Who is a Christian in this Christian land<br /> +Of many churches and of lofty spires?<br /> +Not he who sits in soft upholstered pews<br /> +Bought by the profits of unholy greed,<br /> +And looks devotion, while he thinks of gain.<br /> +Not he who sends petitions from the lips<br /> +That lie to-morrow in the street and mart.<br /> +Not he who fattens on another’s toil,<br /> +And flings his unearned riches to the poor,<br /> +Or aids the heathen with a lessened wage,<br /> +And builds cathedrals with an increased rent.</p> +<p class="poetry">Christ, with Thy great, sweet, simple creed of +love,<br /> +How must Thou weary of Earth’s ‘Christian’ +clans,<br /> +Who preach salvation through Thy saving blood<br /> +While planning slaughter of their fellow men.<br /> +<a name="page79"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 79</span>Who is a +Christian? It is one whose life<br /> +Is built on love, on kindness and on faith;<br /> +Who holds his brother as his other self;<br /> +Who toils for justice, equity and PEACE,<br /> +And hides no aim or purpose in his heart<br /> +That will not chord with universal good.</p> +<p class="poetry">Though he be pagan, heretic or Jew,<br /> +That man is Christian and beloved of Christ.</p> +<h2><a name="page80"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 80</span>THE +GOAL</h2> +<p class="poetry">All your wonderful inventions,<br /> + All your houses vast and tall,<br /> +All your great gun-fronted vessels,<br /> + Every fort and every wall,<br /> +With the passing of the ages,<br /> + They shall pass and they shall fall.</p> +<p class="poetry">As you sit among the idols<br /> + That your avarice gave birth,<br /> +As you count the hoarded treasures<br /> + That you think of priceless worth,<br /> +Time is digging tombs to hide them<br /> + In the bosom of the earth.</p> +<p class="poetry">There shall come a great convulsion<br /> + Or a rushing tidal wave,<br /> +Or a sound of mighty thunders<br /> + From a subterranean cave,<br /> +And a boasting world’s possessions<br /> + Shall be buried in one grave.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page81"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +81</span>From the Centuries of Silence<br /> + We are bringing back again<br /> +Buried vase and bust and column<br /> + And the gods they worshipped then,<br /> +In the strange unmentioned cities<br /> + Built by prehistoric men.</p> +<p class="poetry">Did they steal, and lie, and slaughter?<br /> + Did they steep their souls in shame?<br /> +Did they sell eternal virtues<br /> + Just to win a passing fame?<br /> +Did they give the gold of honour<br /> + For the tinsel of a name?</p> +<p class="poetry">We are hurrying all together<br /> + Toward the silence and the night;<br /> +There is nothing worth the seeking<br /> + But the sun-kissed moral height—<br /> +There is nothing worth the doing<br /> + But the doing of the <i>right</i>.</p> +<h2><a name="page82"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 82</span>THE +SPUR</h2> +<p class="poetry">I asked the rock beside the road what joy +existence lent.<br /> +It answered, ‘For a million years my heart has been +content.’</p> +<p class="poetry">I asked the truffle-seeking swine, as rooting +by he went,<br /> +‘What is the keynote of your life?’ He grunted +out, ‘Content.’</p> +<p class="poetry">I asked a slave, who toiled and sung, just what +his singing meant.<br /> +He plodded on his changeless way, and said, ‘I am +content.’</p> +<p class="poetry">I asked a plutocrat of greed, on what his +thoughts were bent.<br /> +He chinked the silver in his purse, and said, ‘I am +content.’</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page83"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +83</span>I asked the mighty forest tree from whence its force was +sent.<br /> +Its thousand branches spoke as one, and said, ‘From +discontent.’</p> +<p class="poetry">I asked the message speeding on, by what great +law was rent<br /> +God’s secret from the waves of space. It said, +‘From discontent.’</p> +<p class="poetry">I asked the marble, where the works of God and +man were blent,<br /> +What brought the statue from the block. It answered, +‘Discontent.’</p> +<p class="poetry">I asked an Angel, looking down on earth with +gaze intent,<br /> +How man should rise to larger growth. Quoth he, +‘Through discontent.’</p> +<h2><a name="page84"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +84</span>AWAKENED!</h2> +<p class="poetry">Slowly the People waken; they have been,<br /> +Like weary soldiers, sleeping in their tents,<br /> +While traitors tiptoed through the silent camp<br /> +Intent on plunder. Suddenly a sound—<br /> +A careless movement of too bold a thief—<br /> +Starts one dull sleeper; then another stirs,<br /> +A third cries out a warning, and at last<br /> +The people are awake! Oh, when as one<br /> +The many rise, united and alert,<br /> +With Justice for their motto, they reflect<br /> +The mighty force of God’s Omnipotence.<br /> +And nothing stands before them. Lusty Greed,<br /> +Tyrannical Corruption long in power,<br /> +And smirking Cant (whose right hand robs and slays<br /> +So that the left may dower Church and School),<br /> +Monopoly, whose mandate took from Toil<br /> +The Mother Earth, that Idleness might loll<br /> +<a name="page85"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 85</span>And breed +the Monster of Colossal Wealth—<br /> +All these must fall before the gathering Force<br /> +Of public indignation. That old strife<br /> +Which marks the progress of each century,<br /> +The war of Right with Might, is on once more,<br /> +And shame to him who does not take his stand.</p> +<p class="poetry">This is the weightiest moment of all time,<br +/> +And on the issues of the present hour<br /> +A nation’s honour and a country’s peace,<br /> +A People’s future, ay, a World’s, depends.</p> +<p class="poetry">Until the vital questions of the day<br /> +Are solved and settled, and the spendthrift thieves<br /> +Who rob the coffers of the saving poor<br /> +Are led from fashion’s feasts to prison fare,<br /> +And taught the saving grace of honest work—<br /> +Till Labour claims the privilege of toil<br /> +And toil the proceeds of its labour shares—<br /> +Let no man sleep, let no man dare to sleep!</p> +<h2><a name="page86"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +86</span>SHADOWS</h2> +<p class="poetry">I am sorry in the gladness<br /> + Of the joys that crown my days,<br /> +For the souls that sit in sadness<br /> + Or walk uninviting ways.</p> +<p class="poetry">On the radiance of my labour<br /> + That a loving fate bestowed,<br /> +Falls the shadow of my neighbour,<br /> + Crushed beneath a thankless load.</p> +<p class="poetry">As the canticle of pleasure<br /> + From my lovelit altar rolls,<br /> +There is one discordant measure,<br /> + As I think of homeless souls.</p> +<p class="poetry">And I know that grim old story,<br /> + Preached from pulpits, is not so,<br /> +For no God could sit in glory<br /> + And see sinners writhe below.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page87"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +87</span>In that great eternal Centre<br /> + Where all human life has birth,<br /> +Boundless love and pity enter<br /> + And flow downward to the earth.</p> +<p class="poetry">And all souls in sin or sorrow<br /> + Are but passing through the night,<br /> +And I know on some to-morrow<br /> + God will love them into light.</p> +<h2><a name="page88"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 88</span>THE +NEW COMMANDMENT</h2> +<blockquote><p>‘<i>Let go the Cross</i>’—<span +class="smcap">Gertrude Runshon</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p class="poetry">I heard a strange voice in the distance +calling<br /> +As from a star an echo might be falling.</p> +<p class="poetry">It spoke four syllables, concise and brief,<br +/> +Charged with a God-sent message of relief:</p> +<p class="poetry"><i>Let go the cross</i>! Oh, you who +cling to sorrow,<br /> +Hark to the new command and comfort borrow.</p> +<p class="poetry">Even as the Master left His cross below<br /> +And rose to Paradise, let go, let go.</p> +<p class="poetry">Forget your wrongs, your troubles and your +losses,<br /> +For with the tools of thought we build our crosses.</p> +<p class="poetry">Forget your griefs, all grudges and all fear<br +/> +And enter Paradise—its gates are near.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page89"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +89</span>Heaven is a realm by loving souls created,<br /> +And hell was fashioned by the hearts that hated.</p> +<p class="poetry">Love, hope and trust; believe all joys are +yours,<br /> +Life pays the soul whose confidence endures,</p> +<p class="poetry">The blows of adverse fate, by larger +pleasures,<br /> +As after storms the soil yields fuller measures.</p> +<p class="poetry">Let go the cross; roll self—the +stone—away<br /> +And dwell with Love in Paradise to-day.</p> +<h2><a name="page90"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 90</span>SUMMER +DREAMS</h2> +<p class="poetry">When the Summer sun is shining,<br /> + And the green things push and grow,<br /> +Oft my heart runs over measure,<br /> +With its flowing fount of pleasure,<br /> + As I feel the sea winds blow;<br /> + Ah, then life is good, I know.</p> +<p class="poetry">And I think of sweet birds building,<br /> + And of children fair and free;<br /> +And of glowing sun-kissed meadows,<br /> +And of tender twilight shadows,<br /> + And of boats upon the sea.<br /> + Oh, then life seems good to me!</p> +<p class="poetry">Then unbidden and unwanted,<br /> + Come the darker, sadder sights;<br /> +City shop and stifling alley,<br /> +Where misfortune’s children rally;<br /> + And the hot crime-breeding nights,<br /> + And the dearth of God’s delights.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page91"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +91</span>And I think of narrow prisons<br /> + Where unhappy songbirds dwell,<br /> +And of cruel pens and cages<br /> +Where some captured wild thing rages<br /> + Like a madman in his cell,<br /> + In the Zoo, the wild beasts’ hell.</p> +<p class="poetry">And I long to lift the burden<br /> + Of man’s selfishness and sin;<br /> +And to open wide earth’s treasures<br /> +Of God’s storehouse, full of pleasures,<br /> + For my dumb and human kin,<br /> + And to ask the whole world in.</p> +<h2><a name="page92"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 92</span>THE +BREAKING OF CHAINS</h2> +<p class="poetry">Between the ringing of bells and the musical +clang of chimes<br /> +I hear a sound like the breaking of chains, all through these +Christmas times.<br /> +For the thought of the world is waking out of a slumber deep and +long,<br /> +And the race is beginning to understand how Right can master +Wrong.</p> +<p class="poetry">And the eyes of the world are opening wide, and +great are the truths they see;<br /> +And the heart of the world is singing a song, and its burden is +‘Be free!’<br /> +Now the thought of the world and the wish of the world and the +song of the world will make<br /> +A force so strong that the fetters forged for a million years +must break.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page93"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +93</span>Fetters of superstitious fear have bound the race to +creeds<br /> +That hindered the upward march of man to the larger faith he +needs.<br /> +Fetters of greed and pride have made the race bow down to +kings;<br /> +But the pompous creed and the costly throne must yield to simpler +things.</p> +<p class="poetry">The thought of the world has climbed above old +paths for centuries trod;<br /> +And cloth and crown no longer mean the ‘vested power of +God.’<br /> +The race no longer bends beneath the weight of Adam’s +sin,<br /> +But stands erect and knows itself the Maker’s first of +kin.</p> +<p class="poetry">And the need of the world and the wish of the +world and the song of the world I hear,<br /> +All through the clanging and clashing of bells, this Christmas +time o’ the year;<br /> +And I hear a sound like the breaking of chains, and it seems to +say to me,<br /> +In the voice of One who spoke of old, ‘The Truth shall make +men free.’</p> +<h2><a name="page94"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +94</span>DECEMBER</h2> +<p class="poetry">Upon December’s windy portico<br /> +The Old Year stood, and looked out where the sun<br /> +Went wading down the West, through drifting clouds.<br /> +‘I, too, shall sink full soon to rest,’ he sighed,<br +/> +‘And follow where my children’s feet have trod;<br /> +Brave January, beauteous May and June,<br /> +My lovely daughters, and my valiant sons,<br /> +All, all save one, have left me for that bourne<br /> +Men call the Past. It seems but yesterday<br /> +I saw fair August, laughing with the Sea,<br /> +Snaring the Earth with her seductive wiles,<br /> +And making conquest, even of the Sun.<br /> +Yet has she gone, and left me here to mourn.’<br /> +Then spake December, from an open door:<br /> +‘Father, the night grows cold; come in and rest.<br /> +Sit with me here beside this glowing grate;<br /> +I have not left thee; thou art not alone;<br /> +<a name="page95"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 95</span>My house +is thine; all warm with love and light,<br /> +And bright with holly and with cedar sweet.<br /> +My stalwart arm is thine to lean upon;<br /> +The feast is spread, I only wait for thee;<br /> +God smiles upon thy dead, smile thou on me.’<br /> +Then through the open door the Old Year passed<br /> +And darkness settled on the outer world.</p> +<h2><a name="page96"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +96</span>‘THE WAY’</h2> +<p class="poetry">However certain of the way thou art,<br /> +Take not the self-appointed leader’s part.<br /> +Follow no man, and by no man be led,<br /> +And no man lead. <i>Awake</i>, and go ahead.<br /> +Thy path, though leading straight unto the goal<br /> +Might prove confusing to another soul.<br /> +The goal is central; but from east, and west,<br /> +And north, and south, we set out on the quest;<br /> +From lofty mountains, and from valleys low:—<br /> +How could all find one common way to go?</p> +<p class="poetry">Lord Buddha to the wilderness was brought.<br +/> +Lord Jesus to the Cross. And yet, think not<br /> +By solitude, or cross, thou canst achieve,<br /> +Lest in thine own true Self thou dost believe.<br /> +Know thou art One, with life’s Almighty Source,<br /> +Then are thy feet set on the certain Course.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page97"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +97</span>Nor does it matter if thou feast, or fast,<br /> +Or what thy creed—or where thy lot is cast;<br /> +In halls of pleasure or in crowded mart,<br /> +In city streets, or from all men apart—<br /> +Thy path leads to the Light; and peace and power<br /> +Shall be thy portion, growing hour by hour.<br /> +Follow no man, and by no man be led.<br /> +And no man lead. But <i>know</i> and go ahead.</p> +<h2><a name="page98"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 98</span>THE +LEADER TO BE</h2> +<p class="poetry">What shall the leader be in that great day<br +/> +When we who sleep and dream that we are slaves<br /> +Shall wake and know that Liberty is ours?<br /> +Mark well that word—not yours, not mine, but ours.<br /> +For through the mingling of the separate streams<br /> +Of individual protest and desire,<br /> +In one united sea of purpose, lies<br /> +The course to Freedom.</p> +<p +class="poetry"> When +Progression takes<br /> +Her undisputed right of way, and sinks<br /> +The old traditions and conventions where<br /> +They may not rise, what shall the leader be?</p> +<p class="poetry">No mighty warrior skilled in crafts of war,<br +/> +Sowing earth’s fertile furrows with dead men<br /> +And staining crimson God’s cerulean sea,<br /> +To prove his prowess to a shuddering world.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page99"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +99</span>Nor yet a monarch with a silly crown<br /> +Perched on an empty head, an in-bred heir<br /> +To senseless titles and anemic blood.</p> +<p class="poetry">No ruler, purchased by the perjured votes<br /> +Of striving demagogues whose god is gold.<br /> +Not one of these shall lead to Liberty.<br /> +The weakness of the world cries out for strength.<br /> +The sorrow of the world cries out for hope.<br /> +Its suffering cries for kindness.</p> +<p +class="poetry"> He +who leads<br /> +Must then be strong and hopeful as the dawn<br /> +That rises unafraid and full of joy<br /> +Above the blackness of the darkest night.<br /> +He must be kind to every living thing;<br /> +Kind as the Krishna, Buddha and the Christ,<br /> +And full of love for all created life.<br /> +Oh, not in war shall his great prowess lie,<br /> +Nor shall he find his pleasure in the chase.<br /> +Too great for slaughter, friend of man and beast,<br /> +Touching the borders of the Unseen Realms<br /> +And bringing down to earth their mystic fires<br /> +To light our troubled pathways, wise and kind<br /> +And human to the core, so shall he be,<br /> +The coming leader of the coming time.</p> +<h2><a name="page100"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 100</span>THE +GREATER LOVE</h2> +<p class="poetry">Hear thou my prayer, great God of opulence;<br +/> +Give me no blessings, save as recompense<br /> +For blessings which I lovingly bestow<br /> +On needy stranger or on suffering foe.<br /> +If Wealth, by chance, should on my path appear,<br /> +Let Wisdom and Benevolence stand near,<br /> +And Charity within my portal wait,<br /> +To guard me from acquaintance intimate.</p> +<p class="poetry">Yet in this intricate great art of living<br /> +Guide me away from misdirected giving,<br /> +And show me how to spur the laggard soul<br /> +To strive alone once more to gain the goal.</p> +<p class="poetry">Repay my worldly efforts to attain<br /> +Only as I develop heart and brain;<br /> +Nor brand me with the ‘Dollar Sign’ above<br /> +A bosom void of sympathy and love.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page101"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +101</span>If on the carrying winds my name be blown<br /> +To any land or time beyond my own,<br /> +Let it not be as one who gained the day<br /> +By crowding others from the chosen way;<br /> +Rather as one who missed the highest place<br /> +Pausing to cheer spent runners in the race.<br /> +To do—to have—is lesser than to BE:<br /> +The greater boon I ask, dear God, from Thee.</p> +<h2><a name="page102"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +102</span>THANK GOD FOR LIFE</h2> +<p class="poetry">Thank God for life, in such an age as this,<br +/> + Rich with the promises of better things.<br /> +Thank God for being part of this great nation’s heart,<br +/> + Whose strong pulsations are not ruled by kings.</p> +<p class="poetry">Our thanks for fearless and protesting +speech<br /> + When cloven hoofs show ’neath the robes of +state.<br /> +For us no servile song of ‘Kings can do no wrong.’<br +/> + Not royal birth, but worth, makes rulers great.</p> +<p class="poetry">Thank God for peace within our border lands,<br +/> + And for the love of peace within each soul.<br /> +Who thinks on peace has wrought, mosaic-squares of thought<br /> + In the foundation of our future goal.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page103"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +103</span>Our thanks for love, and knowledge of love’s +laws.<br /> + Love is a greater power than vested might.<br /> +Love is the central source of all enduring force.<br /> + Love is the law that sets the whole world right.</p> +<p class="poetry">Our thanks for that increasing torch of +light<br /> + The tireless hand of science holds abroad.<br /> +And may its growing blaze shine on all hidden ways<br /> + Till man beholds the silhouette of God.</p> +<h2><a name="page104"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 104</span>TIME +ENOUGH</h2> +<p class="poetry">I know it is early morning,<br /> + And hope is calling aloud,<br /> +And your heart is afire with Youth’s desire<br /> + To hurry along with the crowd.<br /> +But linger a bit by the roadside,<br /> + And lend a hand by the way,<br /> +’Tis a curious fact that a generous act<br /> +Brings leisure and luck to a day.</p> +<p class="poetry">I know it is only the noontime—<br /> + There is chance enough to be kind;<br /> +But the hours run fast when noon has passed,<br /> + And the shadows are close behind.<br /> +So think while the light is shining,<br /> + And act ere the set of the sun,<br /> +For the sorriest woe that a soul can know<br /> + Is to think what it might have done.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page105"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +105</span>I know it is almost evening,<br /> + But the twilight hour is long.<br /> +If you listen and heed each cry of need<br /> + You can right full many a wrong.<br /> +For when we have finished the journey<br /> + We will all look back and say:<br /> +‘On life’s long mile there was nothing worth while<br +/> + But the good we did by the way.’</p> +<h2><a name="page106"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 106</span>NEW +YEAR’S DAY</h2> +<p class="poetry">When with clanging and with ringing<br /> + Comes the year’s initial day,<br /> +I can feel the rhythmic swinging<br /> + Of the world upon its way;<br /> +And though Right still wears a fetter,<br /> + And though Justice still is blind,<br /> +Time’s beyond is always better<br /> + Than the paths he leaves behind.</p> +<p class="poetry">In our eons of existence,<br /> + As we circle through the night,<br /> +We annihilate the distance<br /> + ’Twixt the darkness and the light.<br /> +From beginnings crude and lowly,<br /> + Round and round our souls have trod<br /> +Through the circles, winding slowly<br /> + Up to knowledge and to God.</p> +<p class="poetry">With each century departed<br /> + Some old evil found a tomb,<br /> +<a name="page107"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 107</span>Some old +truth was newly started<br /> + In propitious soil to bloom.<br /> +With each epoch some condition<br /> + That has handicapped the race<br /> +(Worn-out creed or superstition)<br /> + Unto knowledge yields its place.</p> +<p class="poetry">Though in folly and in blindness<br /> + And in sorrow still we grope,<br /> +Yet in man’s increasing kindness<br /> + Lies the world’s stupendous hope;<br /> +For our darkest hour of errors<br /> + Is as radiant as the dawn,<br /> +Set beside the awful terrors<br /> + Of the ages that have gone.</p> +<p class="poetry">And above the sad world’s sobbing,<br /> + And the strife of clan with clan,<br /> +I can hear the mighty throbbing<br /> + Of the heart of God in man;<br /> +And a voice chants through the chiming<br /> + Of the bells, and seems to say,<br /> +We are climbing, we are climbing,<br /> + As we circle on our way.</p> +<h2><a name="page108"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 108</span>LIFE +IS A PRIVILEGE</h2> +<p class="poetry">Life is a privilege. Its youthful days<br +/> +Shine with the radiance of continuous Mays.<br /> +To live, to breathe, to wonder and desire,<br /> +To feed with dreams the heart’s perpetual fire;<br /> +To thrill with virtuous passions and to glow<br /> +With great ambitions—in one hour to know<br /> +The depths and heights of feeling—God! in truth<br /> +How beautiful, how beautiful is youth!</p> +<p class="poetry">Life is a privilege. Like some rare +rose<br /> +The mysteries of the human mind unclose.<br /> +What marvels lie in earth and air and sea,<br /> +What stores of knowledge wait our opening key,<br /> +What sunny roads of happiness lead out<br /> +Beyond the realms of indolence and doubt,<br /> +And what large pleasures smile upon and bless<br /> +The busy avenues of usefulness.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page109"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +109</span>Life is a privilege. Though noontide fades<br /> +And shadows fall along the winding glades;<br /> +Though joy-blooms wither in the autumn air,<br /> +Yet the sweet scent of sympathy is there.<br /> +Pale sorrow leads us closer to our kind,<br /> +And in the serious hours of life we find<br /> +Depths in the soul of men which lend new worth<br /> +And majesty to this brief span of earth.</p> +<p class="poetry">Life is a privilege. If some sad fate<br +/> +Sends us alone to seek the exit gate;<br /> +If men forsake us as the shadows fall,<br /> +Still does the supreme privilege of all<br /> +Come in that reaching upward of the soul<br /> +To find the welcoming presence at the goal,<br /> +And in the knowledge that our feet have trod<br /> +Paths that lead from and must lead back to God.</p> +<h2><a name="page110"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 110</span>IN +AN OLD ART GALLERY</h2> +<p class="poetry">Before the statue of a giant Hun,<br /> +There stood a dwarf, misshapen and uncouth.<br /> +His lifted eyes seemed asking: ‘Why, in sooth,<br /> +Was I not fashioned like this mighty one?<br /> +Would God show favour to an older son<br /> + Like earthly kings, and beggar without ruth<br /> + Another, who sinned only by his youth?<br /> +Why should two lives in such divergence run?’</p> +<p class="poetry">Strange, as he gazed, that from a vanished +past<br /> + No memories revived of war and strife,<br /> + Of misused prowess, and of broken +law.<br /> +That old Hun’s spirit, in the dwarf re-cast,<br /> + Lived out the sequence of an earthly life.<br /> + <i>It was the statue of himself he +saw</i>!</p> +<h2><a name="page111"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 111</span>TRUE +BROTHERHOOD</h2> +<p class="poetry">God, what a world, if men in street and mart<br +/> +Felt that same kinship of the human heart<br /> +Which makes them, in the face of flame and flood,<br /> +Rise to the meaning of true Brotherhood!</p> +<h2><a name="page112"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 112</span>THE +DECADENT</h2> +<p class="poetry">Among the virile hosts he passed along,<br /> +Conspicuous for an undetermined grace<br /> +Of sexless beauty. In his form and face<br /> +God’s mighty purpose somehow had gone wrong.<br /> +Then on his loom, he wove a careful song,<br /> + Of sensuous threads; a wordy web of lace<br /> + Wherein the primal passions of the race<br /> +And his own sins made wonder for the throng.</p> +<p class="poetry">A little pen prick opened up a vein,<br /> + And gave the finished mesh a crimson blot—<br +/> + The last consummate touch of +studied art.<br /> +But those who knew strong passion and keen pain,<br /> + Looked through and through the pattern and found +not<br /> + One single great emotion of the +heart.</p> +<h2><a name="page113"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +113</span>LORD, SPEAK AGAIN</h2> +<p class="poetry">When God had formed the Universe, He thought<br +/> +Of all the marvels therein to be wrought<br /> +And to His aid then Motherhood was brought.</p> +<p class="poetry">‘My lesser self, the feminine of Me,<br +/> +She will go forth throughout all time,’ quoth He,<br /> +‘And make My world what I would have it be.</p> +<p class="poetry">‘For I am weary, having laboured so,<br +/> +And for a cycle of repose would go<br /> +Into that silence which but God may know.</p> +<p class="poetry">‘Therefore I leave the rounding of My +plan<br /> +To Motherhood; and that which I began<br /> +Let woman finish in perfecting man.</p> +<p class="poetry">‘She is the soil: the human Mother +Earth:<br /> +She is the sun, that calls the seed to earth.<br /> +She is the gardener, who knows its worth.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page114"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +114</span>‘From Me, all seed, of any kind must spring.<br +/> +Divine the growth such seed and soil will bring.<br /> +For all is Me, and I am everything.’</p> +<p class="poetry">Thus having spoken to Himself aloud,<br /> +His glorious face upon His breast He bowed,<br /> +And sought repose behind a wall of cloud.</p> +<p class="poetry">Come forth, O God! though great Thy thought and +good,<br /> +In shaping woman for true Motherhood,<br /> +Lord, speak again; she has not understood.</p> +<p class="poetry">The centuries pass: the cycles roll +along—<br /> +The earth is peopled with a mighty throng,<br /> +Yet men are fighting and the world goes wrong.</p> +<p class="poetry">Lord, speak again, ere yet it be too late,<br +/> +Unloved, unwanted souls come through earth’s gate:<br /> +The unborn child is given a dower of hate.</p> +<p class="poetry">Thy world progresses in all ways save one.<br +/> +In Motherhood, for which it was begun,<br /> +Lord, Lord, behold how little has been done!</p> +<p class="poetry">Children are spawned like fishes in the +sand.<br /> +With ignorance and crime they fill the land.<br /> +Lord, speak again, till mothers understand.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page115"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +115</span>It is not all of Motherhood to know<br /> +Conception pleasure or deliverance woe.<br /> +Who plants the seed should help the shoot to grow.</p> +<p class="poetry">Better a barren soil than weed and tare,<br /> +Or sickly plants that die for want of care<br /> +In poisonous jungles, void of sun and air.</p> +<p class="poetry">True Motherhood is not alone to breed<br /> +The human race; it is to know and heed<br /> +Its holiest purpose and its highest need.</p> +<p class="poetry">Lord, speak again, so woman shall be stirred<br +/> +With the full meaning of that mighty word<br /> +True Motherhood. She has not rightly heard.</p> +<h2><a name="page116"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 116</span>MY +HEAVEN</h2> +<p class="poetry">Unhoused in deserts of accepted thought,<br /> + And lost in jungles of confusing creeds,<br /> + My soul strayed, homeless, finding its own needs<br +/> +Unsatisfied with what tradition taught.</p> +<p class="poetry">The pros and cons, the little ifs and ands,<br +/> + The but and maybe, and the this and that,<br /> + On which the churches thicken and grow fat,<br /> +I found but structures built on shifting sands.</p> +<p class="poetry">And all their heavens were strange and far +away,<br /> + And all their hells were made of human hate;<br /> + And since for death I did not care to wait,<br /> +A heaven I fashioned for myself one day.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page117"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +117</span>Of happy thoughts I built it stone by stone,<br /> + With joy of life I draped each spacious room,<br /> + With love’s great light I drove away all +gloom,<br /> +And in the centre I made God a throne.</p> +<p class="poetry">And this dear heaven I set within my heart,<br +/> + And carried it about with me alway,<br /> + And then the changing dogmas of the day<br /> +Seemed alien to my thoughts and held no part.</p> +<p class="poetry">Now as I take my heaven from place to place<br +/> + I find new rooms by love’s revealing light,<br +/> + And death will give me but a larger sight<br /> +To see my palace spreading into space.</p> +<h2><a name="page118"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +118</span>LIFE</h2> +<p class="poetry">On a bleak, bald hill with a dull world +under,<br /> + The dreary world of the Commonplace,<br /> +I have stood when the whole world seemed a blunder<br /> + Of dotard Time, in an aimless race.<br /> +With worry about me and want before me—<br /> + Yet deep in my soul was a rapture spring<br /> +That made me cry to the grey sky o’er me:<br /> + ‘Oh, I know this life is a goodly +thing!’</p> +<p class="poetry">I have given sweet years to a thankless duty<br +/> + While cold and starving, though clothed and fed,<br +/> +For a young heart’s hunger for joy and beauty<br /> + Is harder to bear than the need of bread.<br /> +I have watched the wane of a sodden season,<br /> + Which let hope wither, and made care thrive,<br /> +And through it all, without earthly reason,<br /> + I have thrilled with the glory of being alive.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page119"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +119</span>And now I stand by the great sea’s splendour,<br +/> + Where love and beauty feed heart and eye.<br /> +The brilliant light of the sun grows tender<br /> + As it slants to the shore of the by and by.<br /> +I prize each hour as a golden treasure—<br /> + A pearl Time drops from a broken string:<br /> +And all my ways are the ways of pleasure,<br /> + And I know this life is a goodly thing.</p> +<p class="poetry">And I know, too, that not in the seeing,<br /> + Or having, or doing the things we would,<br /> +Lies that deep rapture that comes from being<br /> + <i>At one with the Purpose which made all +good</i>.<br /> +And not from Pleasure the heart may borrow<br /> + That rare contentment for which we strive,<br /> +Unless through trouble, and want, and sorrow<br /> + It has thrilled with the glory of being alive.</p> +<h2><a name="page120"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +120</span>GOD’S KIN</h2> +<p class="poetry">There is no summit you may not attain,<br /> + No purpose which you may not yet achieve,<br /> + If you will wait serenely and believe<br /> +Each seeming loss is but a step toward gain.</p> +<p class="poetry">Between the mountain-tops lie vale and +plain;<br /> + Let nothing make you question, doubt or grieve;<br +/> + Give only good, and good alone receive;<br /> +And as you welcome joy, so welcome pain.</p> +<p class="poetry">That which you most desire awaits your word;<br +/> + Throw wide the door and bid it enter in.<br /> +Speak, and the strong vibrations shall be stirred;<br /> + Speak, and above earth’s loud, unmeaning +din<br /> +Your silent declarations shall be heard.<br /> + All things are possible to God’s own kin.</p> +<h2><a name="page121"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +121</span>CONQUEST</h2> +<p class="poetry">Talk not of strength, until your heart has +known<br /> +And fought with weakness through long hours alone.</p> +<p class="poetry">Talk not of virtue, till your conquering +soul<br /> +Has met temptation and gained full control.</p> +<p class="poetry">Boast not of garments, all unscorched by +sin,<br /> +Till you have passed, unscathed, through fires within.</p> +<p class="poetry">Oh, poor that pride the unscarred soldier +shows,<br /> +Who safe in camp, has never faced his foes.</p> +<h2><a name="page122"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 122</span>THE +STATUE</h2> +<p class="poetry">A granite rock in the mountain side<br /> +Gazed on the world and was satisfied.<br /> +It watched the centuries come and go.<br /> +It welcomed the sunlight, yet loved the snow.<br /> +It grieved when the forest was forced to fall,<br /> +Yet joyed when steeples rose, white and tall,<br /> +In the valley below it, and thrilled to hear<br /> +The voice of the great town roaring near.</p> +<p class="poetry">When the mountain stream from its idle play<br +/> +Was caught by the mill wheel and borne away<br /> +And trained to labour, the grey rock mused<br /> +‘Trees and verdure and stream are used<br /> +By Man the Master; but I remain<br /> +Friend of the mountain, and star, and plain,<br /> +Unchanged forever by God’s decree,<br /> +While passing centuries bow to me.’</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page123"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +123</span>Then all unwarned, with a mighty shock<br /> +Out of the mountain was wrenched the rock.<br /> +Bruised and battered and broken in heart,<br /> +It was carried away to the common mart,<br /> +Wrecked and ruined in piece and pride.<br /> +‘Oh, God is cruel,’ the granite cried,<br /> +‘Comrade of mountains, of stars the friend,<br /> +By all deserted, how sad my end.’</p> +<p class="poetry">A dreaming sculptor in passing by<br /> +Gazed at the granite with thoughtful eye.<br /> +Then stirred with a purpose supremely grand<br /> +He bade his dream in the rock expand.<br /> +And lo! from the broken and shapeless mass<br /> +That grieved and doubted, it came to pass<br /> +That a glorious statue of priceless worth<br /> +And infinite beauty, adorned the earth.</p> +<h2><a name="page124"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +124</span>SIRIUS</h2> +<blockquote><p>‘<i>Since Sinus crossed the Milky Way</i>, +<i>sixty thousand years have gone</i>.’—<span +class="smcap">Garrett</span> P. <span +class="smcap">Serviss</span>.</p> +</blockquote> +<p class="poetry">Since Sirius crossed the Milky Way<br /> + Full sixty thousand years have gone,<br /> +Yet hour by hour, and day by day,<br /> + This tireless star speeds on and on.</p> +<p class="poetry">Methinks he must be moved to mirth<br /> + By that droll tale of Genesis,<br /> +Which says creation had its birth<br /> + For such a puny world as this.</p> +<p class="poetry">To hear how One who fashioned all<br /> + Those Solar Systems, tier on tiers,<br /> +Expressed in little Adam’s fall<br /> + The purpose of a million spheres.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page125"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +125</span>And, witness of the endless plan,<br /> + To splendid wrath he must be wrought<br /> +By pigmy creeds presumptuous man<br /> + Sends forth as God’s primeval thought.</p> +<p class="poetry">Perchance from half a hundred stars<br /> + He hears as many curious things;<br /> +From Venus, Jupiter and Mars,<br /> + And Saturn with the beauteous rings,</p> +<p class="poetry">There may be students of the Cause<br /> + Who send their revelations out,<br /> +And formulate their codes of laws,<br /> + With heavens for faith and hells for doubt.</p> +<p class="poetry">On planets old ere form or place<br /> + Was lent to earth, may dwell—who +knows—<br /> +A God-like and perfected race<br /> + That hails great Sirius as he goes.</p> +<p class="poetry">In zones that circle moon and sun,<br /> + ’Twixt world and world, he may see souls<br /> +Whose span of earthly life is done,<br /> + Still journeying up to higher goals.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page126"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +126</span>And on dead planets grey and cold<br /> + Grim spectral souls, that harboured hate<br /> +Life after life, he may behold<br /> + Descending to a darker fate.</p> +<p class="poetry">And on his grand majestic course<br /> + He may have caught one glorious sight<br /> +Of that vast shining central Source<br /> + From which proceeds all Life, all Light.</p> +<p class="poetry">Since Sirius crossed the Milky Way<br /> + Full sixty thousand years have gone,<br /> +No mortal man may bid him stay,<br /> + No mortal man may speed him on.</p> +<p class="poetry">No mortal mind may comprehend<br /> + What is beyond, what was before;<br /> +To God be glory without end,<br /> + Let man be humble and adore.</p> +<h2><a name="page127"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 127</span>AT +FONTAINEBLEAU</h2> +<p class="poetry">At Fontainebleau, I saw a little bed<br /> +Fashioned of polished wood, with gold ornate,<br /> +Ambition, hope, and sorrow, ay, and hate<br /> +Once battled there, above a childish head,<br /> +And there in vain, grief wept, and memory plead<br /> + It was so small! but Ah, dear God, how great<br /> + The part it played in one sad woman’s fate.<br +/> +How wide the gloom, that narrow object shed.</p> +<p class="poetry">The symbol of an over-reaching aim,<br /> + The emblem of a devastated joy,<br /> + It spoke of glory, and a blasted +home:<br /> +Of fleeting honours, and disordered fame,<br /> + And the lone passing of a fragile boy.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry">* * * * *</p> +<p class="poetry">It was the cradle of the King of Rome.</p> +<h2><a name="page128"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 128</span>THE +MASQUERADE</h2> +<p class="poetry">Look in the eyes of trouble with a smile,<br /> + Extend your hand and do not be afraid.<br /> + ’Tis but a friend who comes to masquerade.<br +/> +And test your faith and courage for awhile.</p> +<p class="poetry">Fly, and he follows fast with threat and +jeer.<br /> + Shrink, and he deals hard blow on stinging blow,<br +/> + But bid him welcome as a friend, and lo!<br /> +The jest is off—the masque will disappear.</p> +<h2><a name="page129"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +129</span>SYMPATHY</h2> +<p class="poetry">Is the way hard and thorny, oh, my brother?<br +/> + Do tempests beat, and adverse wild winds blow?<br /> +And are you spent, and broken, at each nightfall,<br /> + Yet with each morn you rise and onward go?<br /> +Brother, I know, I know!<br /> +I, too, have journeyed so.</p> +<p class="poetry">Is your heart mad with longing, oh, my +sister?<br /> + Are all great passions in your breast aglow?<br /> +Does the white wonder of your own soul blind you,<br /> + And are you torn with rapture and with woe?<br /> +Sister, I know, I know!<br /> +I, too, have suffered so.</p> +<p class="poetry">Is the road filled with snare and quicksand, +pilgrim?<br /> + Do pitfalls lie where roses seem to grow?<br /> +<a name="page130"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 130</span>And have +you sometimes stumbled in the darkness,<br /> + And are you bruised and scarred by many a blow?<br +/> +Pilgrim, I know, I know!<br /> +I, too, have stumbled so.</p> +<p class="poetry">Do you send out rebellious cry and question,<br +/> + As mocking hours pass silently and slow,<br /> +Does your insistent ‘wherefore’ bring no answer,<br +/> + While stars wax pale with watching, and droop +low?<br /> +I, too, have questioned so,<br /> +But now <i>I know</i>, <i>I know</i>!<br /> +To toil, to strive, to err, to cry, to grow,<br /> +<i>To love through</i> all—this is the way to +<i>know</i>.</p> +<h2><a name="page131"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +131</span>INTERMEDIARY</h2> +<p class="poetry">When from the prison of its body free,<br /> +My soul shall soar, before it goes to Thee,<br /> +Thou great Creator, give it power to know<br /> +The language of all sad, dumb things below.<br /> +And let me dwell a season still on earth<br /> +Before I rise to some diviner birth:<br /> +Invisible to men, yet seen and heard,<br /> +And understood by sorrowing beast and bird—<br /> +Invisible to men, yet always near,<br /> +To whisper counsel in the human ear:<br /> +And with a spell to stay the hunter’s hand<br /> +And stir his heart to know and understand;<br /> +To plant within the dull or thoughtless mind<br /> +The great religious impulse to be kind.</p> +<p class="poetry">Before I prune my spirit wings and rise<br /> +To seek my loved ones in their paradise,<br /> +<a name="page132"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 132</span>Yea! +even before I hasten on to see<br /> +That lost child’s face, so like a dream to me,<br /> +I would be given this intermediate role,<br /> +And carry comfort to each poor, dumb soul:<br /> +And bridge man’s gulf of cruelty and sin<br /> +By understanding of his lower kin.<br /> +’Twixt weary driver and the straining steed<br /> +On wings of mercy would my spirit speed.<br /> +And each should know, before his journey’s end,<br /> +That in the other dwelt a loving friend.<br /> +From zoo and jungle, and from cage and stall,<br /> +I would translate each inarticulate call,<br /> +Each pleading look, each frenzied act and cry,<br /> +And tell the story to each passer-by;<br /> +And of a spirit’s privilege possessed,<br /> +Pursue indifference to its couch of rest,<br /> +And whisper in its ear until in awe<br /> +It woke and knew God’s all-embracing law<br /> +Of Universal Life—the One in All.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry">* * * * *</p> +<p class="poetry">Lord, let this mission to my lot befall.</p> +<h2><a name="page133"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +133</span>LIFE’S CAR</h2> +<p +class="poetry"> ‘Hurry +up!’<br /> +No lingering by old doors of doubt—<br /> + No loitering by the way,<br /> +No waiting a To-morrow car,<br /> + When you can board To-day.<br /> +Success is somewhere down the track;<br /> + Before the chance is gone<br /> +Accelerate your laggard pace,<br /> + Swing on, I say, swing on—<br /> + Hurry up!</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘Step +lively!’<br /> +Belated souls are following fast,<br /> + They shout and signal, ‘Wait.’<br /> +Conductor Time brooks no delay,<br /> + He rings the bell of Fate.<br /> +But you can give the man behind,<br /> + With one hand on the bar,<br /> +<a name="page134"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 134</span>A final +chance to brook defeat,<br /> + And board the moving car.<br /> + Step lively!</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘Move +up!’<br /> +Make way for others as you sit<br /> + Or stand. This crowded earth<br /> +Has room for every journeying soul<br /> + En route to higher birth.<br /> +Ay, room and comfort, if no one<br /> + Took double share or space,<br /> +Nor let his greed and selfishness<br /> + Absorb another’s place.<br /> + Move up!</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘Hold +fast!’<br /> +The jolting switch of obstacles<br /> + With jarring rails is near.<br /> +Stand firm of foot, be strong of grip,<br /> + Brace well and have no fear.<br /> +The Maker of the Car of Life<br /> + Foresaw that curve—Despair,<br /> +And hung the straps of faith, and hope<br /> + So you might grasp them there.<br /> + Hold fast!</p> +<h2><a name="page135"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +135</span>OPPORTUNITY</h2> +<p class="poetry">Send forth your heart’s desire, and work +and wait;<br /> +The opportunities of life are brought<br /> +To our own doors, not by capricious fate,<br /> +But by the strong compelling force of thought.</p> +<h2><a name="page136"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 136</span>THE +AGE OF MOTORED THINGS</h2> +<p class="poetry">The wonderful age of the world I sing—<br +/> +The age of battery, coil and spring,<br /> +Of steam, and storage, and motored thing.</p> +<p class="poetry">Though faith may slumber and art seem dead,<br +/> +And all that is spoken has once been said,<br /> +And all that is written were best unread;</p> +<p class="poetry">Though hearts are iron and thoughts are +steel,<br /> +And all that has value is mercantile,<br /> +Yet marvellous truths shall the age reveal.</p> +<p class="poetry">Ay, greater the marvels this age shall find<br +/> +Than all the centuries left behind,<br /> +When faith was a bigot and art was blind.</p> +<p class="poetry">Oh, sorry the search of the world for gods,<br +/> +Through faith that slaughters and art that lauds,<br /> +While reason sits on its throne and nods.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page137"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +137</span>But out of the leisure that men will know,<br /> +When the cruel things of the sad earth go,<br /> +A Faith that is Knowledge shall rise and grow.</p> +<p class="poetry">In the throb and whir of each new machine<br /> +Thinner is growing the veil between<br /> +The visible earth and the worlds unseen.</p> +<p class="poetry">The True Religion shall leisure bring;<br /> +And Art shall awaken and Love shall sing:<br /> +Oh, ho! for the age of the motored thing!</p> +<h2><a name="page138"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 138</span>NEW +YEAR</h2> +<p><span class="smcap">Mortal</span>:</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘The night is cold, the +hour is late, the world is bleak and drear;<br /> + Who is it knocking at my door?’</p> +<p><span class="smcap">The New Year</span>:</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘I am Good +Cheer.’</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mortal</span>:</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘Your voice is strange; +I know you not; in shadows dark I grope.<br /> + What seek you here?’</p> +<p><span class="smcap">The New Year</span>:</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘Friend, let me in; my +name is Hope.’</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mortal</span>:</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘And mine is Failure; +you but mock the life you seek to bless.<br /> + Pass on.’</p> +<p><a name="page139"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 139</span><span +class="smcap">The New Year</span>:</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘Nay, open wide the +door; I am Success.’</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mortal</span>:</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘But I am ill and spent +with pain; too late has come your wealth.<br /> + I cannot use it.’</p> +<p><span class="smcap">The New Year</span>:</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘Listen, friend; I am +Good Health.’</p> +<p><span class="smcap">Mortal</span>:</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘Now, wide I fling my +door. Come in, and your fair statements prove.’</p> +<p><span class="smcap">The New Year</span>:</p> +<p class="poetry"> ‘But you must open, +too, your heart, for I am Love.’</p> +<h2><a name="page140"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +140</span>DISARMAMENT</h2> +<p class="poetry">We have outgrown the helmet and cuirass,<br /> +The spear, the arrow, and the javelin.<br /> +These crude inventions of a cruder age,<br /> +When men killed men to show their love of God,<br /> +And he who slaughtered most was greatest king.<br /> +We have outgrown the need of war!<br /> + Should men<br /> +Unite in this one thought, all war would end.</p> +<p class="poetry">Disarm the world; and let all Nations meet<br +/> +Like Men, not monsters, when disputes arise.<br /> +When crossed opinions tangle into snarls,<br /> +Let Courts untie them, and not armies cut.<br /> +When State discussions breed dissensions, let<br /> +Union and Arbitration supersede<br /> +The hell-created implements of War.<br /> +Disarm the world! and bid destructive thought<br /> +Slip like a serpent from the mortal mind<br /> +Down through the marshes of oblivion. Soon<br /> +A race of gods shall rise! Disarm! Disarm!</p> +<h2><a name="page141"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 141</span>THE +CALL</h2> +<p class="poetry">All wantonly in hours of joy,<br /> +I made a song of pain.<br /> +Soon Grief drew near, and paused to hear,<br /> +And sang the sad refrain,<br /> +Again and yet again.</p> +<p class="poetry">Then recklessly in my despair,<br /> +I sang of hope one day.<br /> +And Joy turned back upon life’s track,<br /> +And smiled, and came my way,<br /> +And sat her down to stay.</p> +<h2><a name="page142"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 142</span>A +LITTLE SONG</h2> +<p class="poetry">Oh, a great world, a fair world, a true world I +find it;<br /> +A sun that never forgets to rise,<br /> +On the darkest night, a star in the skies,<br /> +And a God of love behind it.</p> +<p class="poetry">Oh, a good life, a sweet life, a large life I +take it,<br /> +Is what He offers to you, and me;<br /> +A chance to do, and a chance to be,<br /> +Whatever we chose to make it.</p> +<p class="poetry">Oh, a far way, a high way, a sure way He leads +us;<br /> +And if the journey at times seems long,<br /> +We must trudge ahead, with a trustful song,<br /> +And know at the end He needs us.</p> +<h1><a name="page143"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 143</span>NEW +THOUGHT PASTELS</h1> +<h2><a name="page145"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 145</span>A +DIALOGUE</h2> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Mortal</span></p> +<p class="poetry">The world is full of selfishness and greed.<br +/> +Lord, I would lave its sin.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Spirit</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Yea, mortal, earth of thy good help has +need.<br /> +Go cleanse <i>thyself</i> within.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Mortal</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Mine ear is hurt by harsh and evil speech.<br +/> +I would reform men’s ways.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Spirit</span></p> +<p class="poetry">There is but one convincing way to teach.<br /> +Speak <i>thou</i> but words of praise.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Mortal</span></p> +<p class="poetry">On every hand is wretchedness and grief,<br /> +Despondency and fear.<br /> +Lord, I would give my fellow men relief.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><a +name="page146"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 146</span><span +class="smcap">Spirit</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Be, then, all hope, all cheer.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Mortal</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Lord, I look outward and grow sick at heart,<br +/> +Such need of change I see.</p> +<p style="text-align: center" class="poetry"><span +class="smcap">Spirit</span></p> +<p class="poetry">Mortal, look <i>in</i>. Do thy allotted +part,<br /> +And leave the rest to ME.</p> +<h2><a name="page147"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 147</span>THE +WEED</h2> +<p class="poetry">A weed is but an unloved flower!<br /> + Go dig, and prune, and guide, and wait,<br /> + Until it learns its high estate,<br /> +And glorifies some bower.<br /> + A weed is but an unloved flower!</p> +<p class="poetry">All sin is virtue unevolved,<br /> + Release the angel from the clod—<br /> + Go love thy brother up to God.<br /> +Behold each problem solved.<br /> + All sin is virtue unevolved.</p> +<h2><a name="page148"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +148</span>STRENGTH</h2> +<p class="poetry">Who is the strong? Not he who puts to +test<br /> +His sinews with the strong and proves the best;<br /> +But he who dwells where weaklings congregate,<br /> +And never lets his splendid strength abate.</p> +<p class="poetry">Who is the good? Not he who walks each +day<br /> +With moral men along the high, clean way;<br /> +But he who jostles gilded sin and shame,<br /> +Yet will not sell his honour or his name.</p> +<p class="poetry">Who is the wise? Not he who from the +start<br /> +With Wisdom’s followers has taken part;<br /> +But he who looks in Folly’s tempting eyes,<br /> +And turns away, perceiving her disguise.</p> +<p class="poetry">Who is serene? Not he who flees his +kind,<br /> +Some mountain fastness, or some cave to find;<br /> +But he who in the city’s noisiest scene,<br /> +Keeps calm within—he only is serene.</p> +<h2><a name="page149"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +149</span>AFFIRM</h2> +<p class="poetry">Body and mind, and spirit, all combine<br /> +To make the Creature, human and divine.</p> +<p class="poetry">Of this great trinity no part deny.<br /> +Affirm, affirm, the Great Eternal I.</p> +<p class="poetry">Affirm the body, beautiful and whole,<br /> +The earth-expression of immortal soul.</p> +<p class="poetry">Affirm the mind, the messenger of the hour,<br +/> +To speed between thee and the source of power.</p> +<p class="poetry">Affirm the spirit, the Eternal I—<br /> +Of this great trinity no part deny.</p> +<h2><a name="page150"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 150</span>THE +CHOSEN</h2> +<p class="poetry">They stood before the Angel at the gate;<br /> + The Angel asked: ‘Why should you enter +in?’<br /> +One said: ‘On earth my place was high and great;’<br +/> + And one: ‘I warned my fellow-men from +sin;’<br /> +Another: ‘I was teacher of the faith;<br /> +I scorned my life and lived in love with death.’</p> +<p class="poetry">And one stood silent. +‘Speak!’ the Angel said;<br /> + ‘What earthly deed has sent you here +to-day?’<br /> +‘Alas! I did but follow where they led,’<br /> + He answered sadly: ‘I had lost my +way—<br /> +So new the country, and so strange my flight;<br /> +I only sought for guidance and for light.’</p> +<p class="poetry">‘You have no passport?’ +‘None,’ the answer came.<br /> + ‘I loved the earth, tho’ lowly was my +lot.<br /> +I strove to keep my record free from blame,<br /> + And make a heaven about my humble spot.<br /> +<a name="page151"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 151</span>A narrow +life; I see it now, too late;<br /> +So, Angel, drive me from the heavenly gate.’</p> +<p class="poetry">The Angel swung the portal wide and free,<br /> + And took the sorrowing stranger by the hand.<br /> +‘Nay, you alone,’ he said, ‘shall come with +me,<br /> + Of all this waiting and insistent band.<br /> +Of what God gave, you built your paradise;<br /> +Behold your mansion waiting in the skies.’</p> +<h2><a name="page152"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 152</span>THE +NAMELESS</h2> +<p class="poetry">Unnumbered gods may unremembered die;<br /> +A thousand creeds may perish and pass by;<br /> +Yet do I lift mine eyes to ONE on high.</p> +<p class="poetry">Unnamed be HE from whom creation came;<br /> +There is no word whereby to speak His name<br /> +But petty men have mouthed it into shame.</p> +<p class="poetry">I lift mine eyes, and with a river’s +force<br /> +My love’s full tide goes sweeping on its course<br /> +To that supreme and all-embracing Source.</p> +<p class="poetry">Then back through all those thirsting channels +roll<br /> +The mighty billows of the Over Soul.<br /> +And I am He, the portion and the Whole.</p> +<p class="poetry">As little streams before the flood-tide +flee,<br /> +As rivers vanish to become the sea,<br /> +The I exists no more, for I AM HE.</p> +<h2><a name="page153"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 153</span>THE +WORD</h2> +<p class="poetry">Oh, a word is a gem, or a stone, or a song,<br +/> + Or a flame, or a two-edged sword;<br /> +Or a rose in bloom, or a sweet perfume,<br /> + Or a drop of gall, is a word.</p> +<p class="poetry">You may choose your word like a connoisseur,<br +/> + And polish it up with art,<br /> +But the word that sways, and stirs, and stays,<br /> + Is the word that comes from the heart.</p> +<p class="poetry">You may work on your word a thousand weeks,<br +/> + But it will not glow like one<br /> +That all unsought, leaps forth white hot,<br /> + When the fountains of feeling run.</p> +<p class="poetry">You may hammer away on the anvil of thought,<br +/> + And fashion your word with care,<br /> +But unless you are stirred to the depths, that word<br /> + Shall die on the empty air.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page154"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +154</span>For the word that comes from the brain alone,<br /> + Alone to the brain will speed;<br /> +But the word that sways, and stirs, and stays,<br /> + Oh! that is the word men heed.</p> +<h2><a name="page155"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +155</span>ASSISTANCE</h2> +<p class="poetry">Lean on no mortal, Love, and serve;<br /> +(For service is love’s complement)<br /> +But it was never God’s intent,<br /> +Your spirit from its path should swerve,<br /> +To gain another’s point of view.<br /> +As well might Jupiter, or Mars<br /> +Go seeking help from other stars,<br /> +Instead of sweeping ON, as you.<br /> +Look to the Great Eternal Cause<br /> +And not to any man, for light.<br /> +Look in; and learn the wrong, and right,<br /> +From your own soul’s unwritten laws.<br /> +And when you question, or demur,<br /> +Let Love be your Interpreter.</p> +<h2><a name="page156"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +156</span>‘CREDULITY’</h2> +<p class="poetry">If fallacies come knocking at my door,<br /> +I’d rather feed, and shelter full a score,<br /> +Than hide behind the black portcullis, doubt,<br /> +And run the risk of barring one Truth out.</p> +<p class="poetry">And if pretension for a time deceive,<br /> +And prove me one too ready to believe,<br /> +Far less my shame, than if by stubborn act,<br /> +I brand as lie, some great colossal Fact.</p> +<p class="poetry">On my soul’s door, the latch-string hangs +outside;<br /> +Within, the lighted candle. Let me guide<br /> +Some errant follies, on their wandering way,<br /> +Rather, than Wisdom give no welcoming ray.</p> +<h2><a name="page157"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +157</span>CONSCIOUSNESS</h2> +<p class="poetry">God, what a glory, is this consciousness,<br /> +Of life on life, that comes to those who seek!<br /> +Nor would I, if I might, to others speak,<br /> +The fulness of that knowledge. It can bless,<br /> +Only the eager souls, that willing, press<br /> +Along the mountain passes, to the peak.<br /> +Not to the dull, the doubting, or the weak,<br /> +Will Truth explain, or Mystery confess.</p> +<p class="poetry">Not to the curious or impatient soul<br /> +That in the start, demands the end be shown,<br /> +And at each step, stops waiting for a sign;<br /> +But to the tireless toiler toward the goal,<br /> +Shall the great miracles of God be known<br /> +And life revealed, immortal and divine.</p> +<h2><a name="page158"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 158</span>THE +STRUCTURE</h2> +<p class="poetry">Upon the wreckage of thy yesterday<br /> +Design the structure of to-morrow. Lay<br /> +Strong corner stones of purpose, and prepare<br /> +Great blocks of wisdom, cut from past despair.<br /> +Shape mighty pillars of resolve, to set<br /> +Deep in the tear-wet mortar of regret.<br /> +Work on with patience. Though thy toil be slow,<br /> +Yet day by day the edifice shall grow.<br /> +Believe in God—in thine own self believe.<br /> +All that thou hast desired thou shalt achieve.</p> +<h2><a name="page159"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 159</span>OUR +SOULS</h2> +<p class="poetry">Our souls should be vessels receiving<br /> +The waters of love for relieving<br /> + The sorrows of men.</p> +<p class="poetry">For here lies the pleasure of living:<br /> +In taking God’s bounties, and giving<br /> + The gifts back again.</p> +<h2><a name="page160"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 160</span>THE +LAW</h2> +<p class="poetry">When the great universe was wrought<br /> +To might and majesty from naught,<br /> +The all creative force was—<br /> + +<i>Thought</i>.</p> +<p class="poetry">That force is thine. Though desolate<br +/> +The way may seem, command thy fate.<br /> +Send forth thy thought—<br /> + +Create—<i>Create</i>!</p> +<h2><a name="page161"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +161</span>KNOWLEDGE</h2> +<p class="poetry">Would you believe in Presences Unseen—<br +/> + In life beyond this earthly life?<br /> +BE STILL: Be stiller yet; and listen. Set the screen<br /> + Of silence at the portal of your will.<br /> +Relax, and let the world go by unheard.<br /> +And seal your lips with some all-sacred word.</p> +<p class="poetry">Breathe ‘God,’ in any +tongue—it means the same;<br /> + LOVE ABSOLUTE: Think, feel, absorb the thought;<br +/> +Shut out all else; until a subtle flame<br /> + (A spark from God’s creative centre caught)<br +/> +Shall permeate your being, and shall glow,<br /> +Increasing in its splendour, till, YOU KNOW.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page162"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +162</span>Not in a moment, or an hour, or day<br /> + The knowledge comes; the power is far too great,<br +/> +To win in any desultory way.<br /> + No soul is worthy till it learns to wait.<br /> +Day after day be patient, then, oh, soul;<br /> +Month after month—till, lo! the goal! the goal!</p> +<h2><a name="page163"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +163</span>GIVE</h2> +<p class="poetry">Give, and thou shalt receive. Give +thoughts of cheer,<br /> + Of courage and success, to friend and stranger.<br +/> +And from a thousand sources, far and near,<br /> + Strength will be sent thee in thy hour of +danger.</p> +<p class="poetry">Give words of comfort, of defence, and hope,<br +/> + To mortals crushed by sorrow and by error.<br /> +And though thy feet through shadowy paths may grope,<br /> + Thou shalt not walk in loneliness or terror.</p> +<p class="poetry">Give of thy gold, though small thy portion +be.<br /> + Gold rusts and shrivels in the hand that keeps +it.<br /> +It grows in one that opens wide and free.<br /> + Who sows his harvest is the one who reaps it.</p> +<p class="poetry">Give of thy love, nor wait to know the worth<br +/> + Of what thou lovest; and ask no returning.<br /> +And wheresoe’er thy pathway leads on earth,<br /> + There thou shalt find the lamp of love-light +burning.</p> +<h2><a name="page164"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +164</span>PERFECTION</h2> +<p class="poetry">The leaf that ripens only in the sun<br /> +Is dull and shrivelled ere its race is run.<br /> +The leaf that makes a carnival of death<br /> +Must tremble first before the north wind’s breath.</p> +<p class="poetry">The life that neither grief nor burden knows<br +/> +Is dwarfed in sympathy before its close.<br /> +The life that grows majestic with the years<br /> +Must taste the bitter tonic found in tears.</p> +<h2><a name="page165"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +165</span>FEAR</h2> +<p class="poetry">Fear is the twin of Faith’s sworn foe, +Distrust.<br /> +If one breaks in your heart the other must.</p> +<p class="poetry">Fear is the open enemy of Good.<br /> +It means the God in man misunderstood.</p> +<p class="poetry">Who walks with Fear adown life’s road +will meet<br /> +His boon companions, Failure and Defeat.</p> +<p class="poetry">But look the bully boldly in the eyes,<br /> +With mien undaunted, and he turns and flies.</p> +<h2><a name="page166"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 166</span>THE +WAY</h2> +<p class="poetry">Between the finite and the infinite<br /> +The missing link of Love has left a void.<br /> +Supply the link, and earth with Heaven will join<br /> +In one continued chain of endless life.</p> +<p class="poetry">Hell is wherever Love is not, and Heaven<br /> +Is Love’s location. No dogmatic creed,<br /> +No austere faith based on ignoble fear<br /> +Can lead thee into realms of joy and peace.<br /> +Unless the humblest creatures on the earth<br /> +Are bettered by thy loving sympathy<br /> +Think not to find a Paradise beyond.</p> +<p class="poetry">There is no sudden entrance into Heaven.<br /> +Slow is the ascent by the path of Love.</p> +<h2><a name="page167"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +167</span>UNDERSTOOD</h2> +<p class="poetry">I value more than I despise<br /> + My tendency to sin,<br /> +Because it helps me sympathise<br /> + With all my tempted kin.</p> +<p class="poetry">He who has nothing in his soul<br /> + That links him to the sod,<br /> +Knows not that joy of self-control<br /> + Which lifts him up to God.</p> +<p class="poetry">And I am glad my heart can say,<br /> + When others trip and fall<br /> +(Although I safely passed that way),<br /> + ‘I understand it all.’</p> +<h2><a name="page168"></a><span class="pagenum">p. 168</span>HIS +MANSION</h2> +<p class="poetry">There was a thought he hid from all men’s +eyes,<br /> +And by his prudent life and deeds of worth<br /> +He left a goodly record upon earth<br /> +As one both pure and wise.</p> +<p class="poetry">But when he reached a dark unsightly door<br /> +Beyond the grave, there stood his secret thought.<br /> +It was the mansion he had built and brought<br /> +To dwell in, on that shore.</p> +<h2><a name="page169"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +169</span>EFFECT</h2> +<p class="poetry">An unkind tale was whispered in his ear.<br /> + He paused to hear.<br /> +His thoughts were food that helped a falsehood thrive,<br /> + And keep alive.</p> +<p class="poetry">Years dawned and died. One day by +venom’s tongue<br /> + His name was stung.<br /> +He cried aloud, nor dreamed the lie was spawn<br /> + Of thoughts long gone.</p> +<p class="poetry">Each mental wave we send out from the mind,<br +/> + Or base, or kind,<br /> +Completes its circuit, then with added force<br /> + Seeks its own source.</p> +<h2><a name="page170"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +170</span>THREE THINGS</h2> +<p class="poetry">Know this, ye restless denizens of earth,<br /> +Know this, ye seekers after joy and mirth,<br /> +Three things there are, eternal in their worth.</p> +<p class="poetry">Love, that outreaches to the humblest +things;<br /> +Work that is glad, in what it does and brings;<br /> +And faith that soars upon unwearied wings.</p> +<p class="poetry">Divine the Powers that on this trio wait.<br /> +Supreme their conquest, over Time and Fate.<br /> +Love, Work, and Faith—these three alone are great.</p> +<h2><a name="page171"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +171</span>OBSTACLES</h2> +<blockquote><p>‘The slothful man saith, There is a lion in +the way; a lion is in the street.’—<span +class="smcap">Proverbs</span> xxvi. 13.</p> +</blockquote> +<p class="poetry">There are no lions in the street;<br /> + No lions in the way.<br /> +Go seek the goal, thou slothful soul,<br /> + Awake, awake, I say.</p> +<p class="poetry">Thou dost but dream of obstacles;<br /> + In God’s great lexicon,<br /> +That word illstarred, no page has marred;<br /> + Press on, I say, press on.</p> +<p class="poetry">Nothing can keep thee from thine own<br /> + But thine own slothful mind.<br /> +To one who knocks, each door unlocks;<br /> + And he who seeks, shall find.</p> +<h2><a name="page172"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +172</span>PRAYER</h2> +<p class="poetry">Lean on thyself until thy strength is tried;<br +/> +Then ask God’s help; it will not be denied.</p> +<p class="poetry">Use thine own sight to see the way to go;<br /> +When darkness falls ask God the path to show.</p> +<p class="poetry">Think for thyself and reason out thy plan;<br +/> +God has His work and thou hast thine, oh, man.</p> +<p class="poetry">Exert thy will and use it for control;<br /> +God gave thee jurisdiction of thy soul.</p> +<p class="poetry">All thine immortal powers bring into play;<br +/> +Think, act, strive, reason, then look up and pray.</p> +<h2><a name="page173"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +173</span>CLIMBING</h2> +<p class="poetry">Who climbs the mountain does not always +climb.<br /> +The winding road slants downward many a time;<br /> +Yet each descent is higher than the last.<br /> +Has thy path fallen? That will soon be past.<br /> +Beyond the curve the way leads up and on.<br /> +Think not thy goal forever lost or gone.<br /> +Keep moving forward; if thine aim is right<br /> +Thou canst not miss the shining mountain height.<br /> +Who would attain to summits still and fair,<br /> +Must nerve himself through valleys of despair.</p> +<h2><a name="page174"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +174</span>‘THERE IS NO DEATH, THERE ARE NO DEAD’</h2> +<p style="text-align: center">(<i>Suggested by the book of Mr. +Ed. C. Randall</i>.)</p> +<p class="poetry">‘There is no death, there are no +dead.’<br /> + From zone to zone, from sphere to sphere,<br /> + The souls of all who pass from here<br /> +By hosts of living thoughts are led;<br /> +And dark or bright, those souls must tread<br /> + The paths they fashioned year on year.<br /> + For hells are built of hate or fear,<br /> +And heavens of love our lives have shed.</p> +<p class="poetry">Across unatlassed worlds of space,<br /> + And through God’s mighty universe,<br /> + With thoughts that bless or thoughts that curse,<br +/> +Each journeys to his rightful place.<br /> + Oh, greater truth no man has said,<br /> + ‘There is no death, there are no +dead.’</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page175"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +175</span>It lifts the mourner from the sod,<br /> + And bids him cast away the reed<br /> + Of some uncomforting poor creed,<br /> +And walk with Knowledge for a rod.<br /> +It bids the doubter seek the broad<br /> + Vast fields, where living facts will feed<br /> + All those whose patience proves their need<br /> +Of these immortal truths of God.</p> +<p class="poetry">It brings before the eyes of faith<br /> + Those realms of radiance, tier on tier,<br /> + Where our beloved ‘dead’ appear,<br /> +More beautiful because of ‘death.’<br /> + It speaks to grief: ‘Be comforted;<br /> + There is no death, there are no dead.’</p> +<h2><a name="page176"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +176</span>REALISATION</h2> +<p class="poetry">Hers was a lonely, shadowed lot;<br /> +Or so the unperceiving thought,<br /> +Who looked no deeper than her face,<br /> +Devoid of chiselled lines of grace—<br /> +No farther than her humble grate,<br /> +And wondered how she bore her fate.</p> +<p class="poetry">Yet she was neither lone nor sad;<br /> +So much of love her spirit had,<br /> +She found an ever-flowing spring<br /> +Of happiness in everything.</p> +<p class="poetry">So near to her was Nature’s heart<br /> +It seemed a very living part<br /> +Of her own self; and bud and blade,<br /> +And heat and cold, and sun and shade,<br /> +And dawn and sunset, Spring and Fall,<br /> +Held raptures for her, one and all.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page177"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +177</span>The year’s four changing seasons brought<br /> +To her own door what thousands sought<br /> +In wandering ways and did not find—<br /> +Diversion and content of mind.</p> +<p class="poetry">She loved the tasks that filled each +day—<br /> +Such menial duties; but her way<br /> +Of looking at them lent a grace<br /> +To things the world deemed commonplace.</p> +<p class="poetry">Obscure and without place or name,<br /> +She gloried in another’s fame.<br /> +Poor, plain and humble in her dress,<br /> +She thrilled when beauty and success<br /> +And wealth passed by, on pleasure bent;<br /> +They made earth seem so opulent.<br /> +Yet none of quicker sympathy,<br /> +When need or sorrow came, than she.<br /> +And so she lived, and so she died.</p> +<p class="poetry">She woke as from a dream. How wide<br /> +And wonderful the avenue<br /> +That stretched to her astonished view!<br /> +And up the green ascending lawn<br /> +A palace caught the rays of dawn.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page178"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +178</span>Then suddenly the silence stirred<br /> +With one clear keynote of a bird;<br /> +A thousand answered, till ere long<br /> +The air was quivering bits of song.<br /> +She rose and wandered forth in awe,<br /> +Amazed and moved by all she saw,<br /> +For, like so many souls who go<br /> +Away from earth, she did not know<br /> +The cord was severed.</p> +<p +class="poetry"> Down +the street,<br /> +With eager arms stretched forth to greet,<br /> +Came one she loved and mourned in youth;<br /> +Her mother followed; then the truth<br /> +Broke on her, golden wave on wave,<br /> +Of knowledge infinite. The grave,<br /> +The body and the earthly sphere<br /> +Were gone! Immortal life was here!<br /> +They led her through the Palace halls;<br /> +From gleaming mirrors on the walls<br /> +She saw herself, with radiant mien,<br /> +And robed in splendour like a queen,<br /> +While glory round about her shone.<br /> +‘All this,’ Love murmured, ‘is your +own.’</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page179"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +179</span>And when she gazed with wondering eye,<br /> +And questioned whence and where and why,<br /> +Love answered thus: ‘All Heaven is made<br /> +By thoughts on earth; your walls were laid,<br /> +Year after year, of purest gold;<br /> +The beauty of your mind behold<br /> +In this fair palace; ay, and more<br /> +Waits farther on, so vast your store.<br /> +I was not worthy when I died<br /> +To take my place here at your side;<br /> +I toiled through long and weary years<br /> +From lower planes to these high spheres;<br /> +And through the love you sent from earth<br /> +I have attained a second birth.<br /> +Oft when my erring soul would tire<br /> +I felt the strength of your desire;<br /> +I heard you breathe my name in prayer,<br /> +And courage conquered weak despair.<br /> +Ah! earth needs heaven, but heaven indeed<br /> +Of earth has just as great a need.’</p> +<p class="poetry">Across the terrace with a bound<br /> +There sped a lambkin and a hound<br /> +(Dumb comrades of the old earth land)<br /> +And fondled her caressing hand.</p> +<p class="poetry"><a name="page180"></a><span class="pagenum">p. +180</span>‘YOU LOVED THEM INTO PARADISE’<br /> +Was answered to her questioning eyes;<br /> +‘You taught them love; love has no end!<br /> +Nor does love’s life on form depend.<br /> +If there be mortal without love,<br /> +He wakes to no new life above.<br /> +If love in humbler things exist,<br /> +It must through other realms persist<br /> +Until all love rays merge in HIM.<br /> +Hark! Hear the heavenly Cherubim!’</p> +<p class="poetry">Then hushed and awed, with joy so vast<br /> +It knew no future and no past,<br /> +She stood amidst the radiant throng<br /> +That came to swell love’s welcoming song—<br /> +This humble soul from earth’s far coast<br /> +The centre of the heavenly host.</p> +<p class="poetry">On earth they see her grave and say:<br /> +‘She lies there till the judgment day;’<br /> +Nor dream, so limited their thought,<br /> +What miracles by love are wrought.</p> + +<div class="gapspace"> </div> + +<div class="gapmediumline"> </div> +<p style="text-align: center"><span class="GutSmall">Printed by +T. and A. </span><span class="GutSmall"><span +class="smcap">Constable</span></span><span class="GutSmall">, +Printers to His Majesty</span><br /> +<span class="GutSmall">at the Edinburgh University +Press.</span></p> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS OF PROGRESS AND NEW THOUGHT +PASTELS***</p> +<pre> + + +***** This file should be named 3228-h.htm or 3228-h.zip****** + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/3/2/2/3228 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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