7 
 
 Tfl 
 
 i K 
 
 i 
 
 1 li 
 
 '11 
 
 i«<«>n»<><nr 
 
 innwnHamHMH^ii 
 
 kttt tin nnn 
 
 n::R.N()N ViASE WAGAR 
 
Class _:ES„i^Jt£ 
 Book ./i^5 ^_ 
 GopyiightN»__ia^:j 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSFR 
 
POCKET TOKENS 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS 
 
 BY 
 
 VERNON WADE WAGAR 
 
 
 BOSTON 
 RICHARD G. BADGER 
 
 1907 
 
Copyrighty 1907, hy Vernon Wade Wagar 
 
 All Rights Reserved 
 
 LIBRARY •! CONGRESS 
 Tw« C*»tM RMWved 
 
 DEC 21 1907 
 
 Copyrifnt fcfitry 
 
 euvss /-) xxc. No. 
 
 COPY B. 
 
 
 y/r^ Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A. 
 

 TO MT WIFE 
 
CO 
 
 Pocket Tokens 
 
 NTEm 
 
 "S 
 
 
 
 Page 
 9 
 
 Trysting Place . 
 
 Ruins 
 
 The Profit of Labor . 
 
 Wing Me to Thee 
 
 My Platitude 
 
 Religion 
 
 Platitudes 
 
 
 
 
 
 13 
 14 
 15 
 
 17 
 18 
 
 19 
 20 
 
 Play with My Soul 
 
 Hunger 
 
 New Paths 
 
 
 
 
 
 21 
 23 
 24 
 
 A Birth 
 Wood-Lost 
 
 
 
 
 
 25 
 
 26 
 
 Resurrection 
 
 
 
 
 
 27 
 
 Lead Me . . 
 
 
 
 
 
 29 
 
 / Knew a Boy 
 
 Carnality 
 
 Conscience 
 
 The Upper and N etht 
 
 The Prince 
 
 T Springs 
 
 
 
 
 31 
 32 
 37 
 43 
 49 
 
 My Symphony . 
 Sonnet: The Beauty o 
 Sonnet: Marriage 
 Sonnet: My Rose 
 Sonnet: Alone in the 
 
 fUje 
 
 Crowd 
 
 
 
 
 55 
 
 • 57 
 . 58 
 
 59 
 60 
 
 Sonnet: The Boatmat 
 Moods 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 
 61 
 . 62 
 
POCKET TOKENS 
 
POCKET TOKENS 
 
 Four travelers met in a wayside hotel, 
 Jaded like steeds with trade's urging whip, 
 Forgot they their patrons and wares they must sell. 
 And kindled their minds into warm fellowship. 
 
 " What is your chief comfort, or joy, or dehght," 
 Asked a salesman alert cheered by winter's fire- 
 glow ? 
 Hands put to pockets brought four objects to light; 
 Like sluice-gates four lips let the mind-waters flow. 
 
 Drummers are thought heartless, heedless, and cold. 
 As they make needed wage by the trail of the road. 
 Not caring for else than the tradesman's gold. 
 As if weary pelf could atone for the soul. 
 
 A fragment of shell the first man held up : 
 
 " This I picked from the field of Chattanooga's 
 
 proud height. 
 I see there the brimming of Science's full cup 
 Whose mixtures turn days dull and dark into light. 
 
 " This bit of shell is a lens to my mind. 
 
 I gaze full of cheer to a more gainly age 
 
 When mind shall rule brawn. I keep the small find, 
 
 Take courage to hope for the rule of the sage. 
 
'* Of hours that are long and tasks straining hard, 
 The workman who made this may think of his pay. 
 I think of inventions as songs of some bard 
 Which can lull restless nations to sleep in a day. " 
 
 The second man poised a small coin on the tip 
 Of a finger of trade accustomed to spoil. 
 " This is of Caesar, the R6man, whose lip 
 Ruled millions of subjects accustomed to toil. 
 
 " The image is Caesar's, the inscription is his; 
 This passed in exchange the desires of each heart: 
 Money and trade bring conditions that quiz 
 And crystallize castes as men pass the mart. 
 
 ** With money you buy and enrich and gain place, 
 Without it you linger and pine and fall 'way. 
 I look at this coin and think of the race. 
 And the goal that is ours if we strive all the day. " 
 
 The lover of art unwrapped a skin wrinkled 
 And drew from within a copy so rare, 
 As if some deep well whose waters were sprinkled 
 With sky-hue and gold-value hidden with care. 
 
 " On no battled field could be found such prize. 
 Instead, back in Italy's sequestered haunt 
 I reaped this appeal to my soul-vaulted skies — 
 It was picked from the pathway of some pious monk, 
 
 10 
 
** The toiler who toiled and is now in his rest, 
 Knew well the heart oain of beauty and grace. 
 How noble, sufficiently grand is the quest 
 To find Nature's forms and unveil her sweet face." 
 
 The man with gray beard and hair thin to part 
 Lifted with care a gold emblem, a cross; 
 On its bosom a full pearl shaped like a heart. 
 " I found it — Cuban convent — wall amoss. " 
 
 The heart was not whole, for it had a red drop — 
 A ruby inserted in the pearl's pure white. 
 A broken heart mothered on the Christian cross 
 Gives peace to the weary and makes the night light. 
 
 " This is the chemistry earth counts most dear; 
 The blood through transfusion divine dissolves sin; 
 In soul atoms, soul birth, soul aversion to fear, 
 That crucibled heart rearranges all kin. 
 
 " This is the Art that makes earth-matters dim. 
 
 See, what God did for the beauty of soul! 
 
 See! The God-Artist brought love down through 
 
 Him, 
 Removed what was broken and gave us the whole. 
 
 " This is the Coin with the King's golden head — 
 The gain of the world is mad, utter loss. 
 This pass us over the ferry, when dead: 
 Bank much on heaven before you go 'cross!" 
 
 II 
 
Each took it with care and saw the rich meaning: 
 Man's hope is made full in Christ's holy death. 
 In fellowship constant, through the Sun's health- 
 felt beaming, 
 Each man may find heart-ease till life's latest breath. 
 
 Around the gold cross bearing pearl-heart with red 
 
 drop. 
 The trio put shell, skin, and Caesar's old coin, 
 Confessing these met gaunt hunger with sop. 
 While broken hearts cry for the Son of God's sign. 
 
 The cross in the pocket was lovingly pressed. 
 The trio were careless and thrust out of sight 
 What could not compete for the soul's deepest rest. 
 And gained for themselves the cross of delight. 
 
 12 
 
TRYSTING PLACE 
 
 Lightly she tripped to the turn of the road 
 
 Where another with love pledged to meet her. 
 
 Each heart, a compass of love, sought the lode 
 
 Of the trysting appeal without murmur. 
 
 The tryst of the soul that would meet very God 
 
 Is found in the heart's deepest sounding; 
 
 There the heart strivings point to Salvation's Pure 
 
 Lode, 
 And true heart gains Christ's life abounding. 
 
 13 
 
RUINS 
 
 Smoke cloud and fire glare affright waking host. 
 Sad, sad the hunger that eats till all's gone, 
 The needy turned out, the house wing'd and flown. 
 We dread cruel flames that leave but the ghost. 
 Though fire never rule the structure may fall 
 And slink into ruins like long-grown moss heap. 
 Through simple remissness the destruction's com- 
 plete — 
 Why ignore creeping sin till the soul wears a pall ? 
 
 14 
 
THE PROFIT OF LABOR 
 
 Of the labor he taketh what profit has man, 
 If it's not to earn bread by brow-sweat and hand. 
 The winning of bread in God's world gives true aid 
 In preserving our life in His image made. 
 
 " Our bread " is not selfish we gain in the strife: 
 Our earnings shape comforts for home and its life. 
 When we work others share in the good of the deed: 
 While praying we work our bread into earth's need. 
 
 School-like, to labor we go like the boy; 
 
 Farm and shop are not prisons, but room for more 
 
 joy; . 
 Efficiency, patience, knowledge, and zest 
 Flow from the tasks one prepares at his best. 
 
 On Saturday night the cotter's home-coming 
 Brings comfort and cheer to the loved ones about 
 
 him; 
 When he knows he did nobly in heart and in wage, 
 He can prize fleeting time like the wise, alert sage. 
 
 Like the sterling of silver and the royal of blue, 
 Work reveals character when the work has been 
 
 true. 
 Man, to express himself fully, must work; 
 Let him work with a will else life ends with a smirk. 
 
 15 
 
Mortal is man if he works less than best. 
 
 Better fall into dust to push upward the best 
 
 Of the seeds than to live strong and full in selPs 
 
 name, 
 Denying the Father of service His claim. 
 
 For what had been earned " well done '* was not 
 
 spoken; 
 For how they did toil *' well done " was the token. 
 Wages can never hold all that we do, 
 It's in character we sum up the profit anew. 
 
 When God made earth's Eden a garden and field, 
 
 He told men to dress it and help it to yield; 
 
 By the sweat of brow earth's sons and daughters 
 
 will share 
 The millennium's coming and the conquest they 
 
 dare. 
 
 Labor! not putter, nor cobble, nor shirk; 
 Labor! God is pleased when all men work. 
 Labor! We obey Him when hard at our toil; 
 Through labor share heaven, dank death-ruin foil! 
 
 i6 
 
WING ME TO THEE 
 
 Wing me to Truth, O God of thought! 
 Tip striving thoughts with unseen force; 
 Make me feel courage to near what has brought 
 Enlight'ment and ease from error's remorse. 
 
 Wing me to Christ, O Father Supreme! 
 I'd learn of Him quick approach to Thee. 
 Thy Son's our brother, Hfe's hope is in Him: 
 Like Him I would be, for through Him I am free. 
 
 Wing me to Thee, O God Divine! 
 Light waking soul with Truth's sure light. 
 Then let me speed with unerring line 
 'Long Christ's Way that's holy, unshadowed by 
 night. 
 
 17 
 
MY PLATITUDE 
 
 The unheeding clopper may look at the sun, 
 Or morning awake, or full day begun; 
 Or press his two feet 'gainst the breast of the earth, 
 Forgetting the Power which gave each their birth. 
 
 He stalks rudely through the whole number of 
 
 hours. 
 Roots out his desire for the fragrance of flowers; 
 Through selfishlike greed he's content with the feed 
 That keeps man a beast when there is spiritual need. 
 
 The Nazarene who lived to give each man a chance 
 To work out the beast and make just advance, 
 Stands ready to bless every creature of earth 
 And give him full life by a spiritual birth. 
 
 i8 
 
RELIGION 
 
 Pity to feast at a table invited 
 
 And spurn to thank host for the bidding. 
 
 Dare true man partake of earth's bounteous feasts 
 
 Without care to meet God, our Host ? 
 
 Dare I think well of myself when I eat. 
 Then trample the vine's welcome yielding; 
 Or, glutted with taste to say madly bold, 
 " I've no use for the Husbandman faithful ?" 
 
 Vain is religion which says, " Just be kind. 
 Be useful and leave God alone." 
 Heartless to crave the prized traits God begets 
 And bluntly deny they are Father's. 
 
 Religion that helps smites no dogmas of old — 
 False claim that worship is dead. 
 Think better of God, you think better of man; 
 Then character travails with new life. 
 
 19 
 
PLATITUDES 
 
 He blundered through the lighted stretch of fresh 
 
 strewn hours, 
 Nor looked to profit at glad life in freshling flowers; 
 But glanced with stupid gaze at break of day or eve, 
 Forgot to quaff the hero's drink and taste belief. 
 
 He put his careless feet upon the age-wrought soil 
 Content to stand and never think of nature's toil, 
 How earth holds him and sun holds earth with 
 
 powerful hold — 
 He lives in platitudes, his mind is full of mental 
 
 mold. 
 
 The best of color, form, and truth he lets slip past; 
 God's Son, Omniscient Life full lade, he fails to 
 
 grasp; 
 The chance to overleap dull wrongs he deft eludes, 
 He blinks and stammeringly names the Gospel 
 
 *' platitudes." 
 
 20 
 
PLAY WITH MY SOUL 
 
 Play with my soul, O Nature mine, 
 Full let me learn your ways divine; 
 Teach me your joys and blithe delight. 
 Prove me why stars shine best at night — 
 Play with my soul! 
 
 Play with my soul, O Nature dear: 
 Stir my fair soul to quaff by ear 
 Thy wisdomed message from purest fount 
 Of endless learning in that mount — 
 Play with my soul! 
 
 Play with my soul, O Nature true. 
 Thou would'st not tell a wrong and rue 
 The day thou didst it and break for long 
 The trust in thee that's been my song. 
 Play with my soul ! 
 
 Play with my soul, O Nature grand. 
 Thou art the covert of God's man. 
 Who lives on earth and walks the span 
 Of flowering fields led by Father's hand. 
 Play with my soul! 
 
 Play with my soul, O Nature kind. 
 Let me now learn from creation's Mind 
 That love ne'er fails and good e'er pays, 
 Roses spend fragrance, prayer ope's sun rays. 
 Play with my soul! 
 
 21 
 
Play with my soul, O Nature hale. 
 I would catch health ! Thou canst not fail 
 When thou art full of life's best wine. 
 Let this contagion's yield be mine. 
 Play with my soul ! 
 
 Play with my soul, O Nature. Tread 
 Till I'm tired and seek death's bed. 
 Then let me rest — I'll claim new day, 
 Find feast of fortune and land sweet as May. 
 Play with my soul! 
 
 22 
 
HUNGER 
 
 He clutched the hard crust with fingertips bold, 
 TrembHngwith food pangs which grew out of toil. 
 To live he must eat and bread must be sold; 
 For gold he fond worked to gain bliss from the soil. 
 
 Like vulture intent upon distant feast 
 The blue-veined fingers gripped tightly the pelf. 
 For bread lacked he none, but foAd gold in the East 
 Rose high in his sky to satisfy self. 
 
 Like Greek leaping forward to reach the swift goal, 
 The artist toiled long in some dim, scanty mow; 
 Full confidence burned in his soul like live coal, 
 Awaiting the comfort of laurel-crowned brow. 
 
 The dark-visaged plodder whose world is his greed, 
 Is blind to the world where flesh 's out of sight. 
 With wild revolutions and trough full of feed 
 He*s content to play ass and take stall for the night. 
 
 Man is not cattle to be filled to the brim 
 With physical comforts that miss the real need; 
 Man is a spirit, a mind born of Him — 
 God's children in hunger demand moral feed. 
 
 Like valets birds open their throats at fresh dawn 
 To wake sleeping toilers with morning's hale laud; 
 So meat-craving, yearning for beauty, is song 
 That should stir to full fitness man's hunger for God. 
 
 23 
 
NEW PATHS 
 
 New paths ? 
 Who takes them, who cares that they're new ? 
 Though we Hve in new age we sin as of old. 
 We find nothing else of wrong than the Jew 
 Who from Sinai was warned for the whole age of 
 man. 
 
 New paths .? 
 Why seek substitution for the duty to pray ? 
 Where is new religion that will cure our tired care ? 
 Would you clear old sin-paths ? Then depart in the 
 
 way 
 Of Moses and David and Paul — Damascus gate. 
 
 24 
 
A BIRTH 
 
 O waiting, knowing, silent expectation, 
 Sun-wreathed and heav*n-kissed, hope-graced con- 
 solation 
 That hfe gains life and love flowers lovelier love, 
 That vision's bliss gains wealth you soon may prove. 
 He came — on yesterday, sweet hour — our baby. 
 
 O blessed, holy mother when Christ was given. 
 He came your Son yet hailed from guileless heaven, 
 A world's sad need. With prayer this fresh sweet 
 
 brow 
 We thankful bathe with blest baptismal vow. 
 He came — he's Thine and ours — our baby. 
 
 What! So short time to cheer our pain-crossed 
 
 way .? 
 Think our rude home too narrow for thy play ? 
 Well Death, thou'rt lovelier than welcome Birth; 
 For thou canst ope the endless reach of Spring. 
 He came — he's gone — God's child, our baby. 
 
 25 
 
WOOD-LOST 
 
 Wood-lost and fog-dimm'd were the races of men, 
 Astir with mad vengeance to gain open field. 
 Along came the Gospel of heaven's blest Son, 
 Lit with Truth and God's Will-and-Way, fire-sign 
 of Christ. 
 
 Jews felt the flavor of God was their purple; 
 A myriad-massed, gentile-strained crowd chilled 
 
 rags 
 Of helpless bewilderment — till a door opened wide: 
 " To all," cried Lord Jesus, ** by the way of the 
 
 cross." 
 
 ♦ 
 
 " By the way of the cross " was God's mercy full 
 
 pleading; 
 Christ, guileless, took curse of man's fullest sin. 
 Mercy, God's mercy, overpowered deserved justice. 
 Else man " fell to rise " could not rise with his 
 
 dream. 
 
 Army adistant to hail with good news 
 
 Of bygones let slip through this day's good will. 
 
 May stop cannon vengeance through the tread of 
 
 the truce — 
 Christ leapt through the rampart, our truce, till 
 
 we're free! 
 
 26 
 
RESURRECTION 
 
 Pain, pallor, stupor, — death! 
 Soul broke out gray with dawn, 
 Friends took the silent, tear-spent form, 
 Entombed for some holier rite. 
 
 Soul fled as light to heaven; 
 Angels ope'd wide embrace; 
 One full orbed son of earth's career 
 Broke flesh like bird broke shell. 
 
 *' And did I live in thee, 
 Low-vaulted fleshy house ? 
 Small windowed for such eff'ulgent day 
 Of light born to fill all space. 
 
 " Lived I in thee those years 
 
 Hot-test with earthy cares; 
 
 Door thick and straight, hinge rust with rest, 
 
 How did I breathe, see, and live ? 
 
 " Come back and live again. 
 
 Feel cramp and chill and pain 
 
 Just to grace mouldering time-aged flesh ? 
 
 O flesh — I cannot come! 
 
 " Prisoned in flesh — now I'm free, 
 Eagle with nest — now I soar; 
 Seed in damp darkness prone to rise. 
 Now I am garnered — home. 
 
 27 
 
" Put on the garb once more; 
 Try prison fare again; 
 Leave sky and fly, eaglet near nest; 
 Be rose a root in earth ? 
 
 *' O earth, thou wert my nest; 
 O flesh, thou wert my warmth; 
 But I must hear the Father's call 
 And hie to bliss eternal." 
 
 28 
 
LEAD ME 
 
 Lead me, O Christ, my hope, my friend, 
 
 I'd breast the full stream of Hfe. 
 
 These shallows chill weary feet that would glad 
 
 Tread deeply and certain the flood. 
 
 Lead past the ripples that laugh with the crowd 
 Content to halt at the shoals; 
 I must speed on to the depth of full life, — 
 Saviour, my surety sustain. 
 
 Lead me, nor let life's gulf overwhelm me. 
 Turgid tides, huge crests dare not daunt; 
 The roar of ocean must not still my aim. 
 Full to the full I must go. 
 
 Higher still higher must life-waters rise. 
 Rise till I'm swept off of feet; 
 Then with the gain of my sure Pilot near 
 Swim out and on complete life. 
 
 Why should I fear the deep sounds beneath ? 
 Up! look at morning's gleam! 
 Gold is the pathway toward heaven's sure dawn, 
 I'll brave with my trusty Guide. 
 
 What was that chill and the current I felt. 
 Pilot, as we swam by ? 
 
 Death ! Was it death that sweeps myriads by 
 Never to near heaven's shore ? 
 
 29 
 
What mean these waters so warm and so pure, 
 Pilot, like change of clime ? 
 Is it, ah, have I guessed the real truth, — 
 This is God's clime and heav'n's shore ? 
 
 What mean those songs that pour in my ears, 
 And the boatmen in gold-prowed skiffs ? 
 Are these the angels that meet human souls 
 Who breast the full sea of life ? 
 
 Well, I am glad I plunged into the flood. 
 Like Peter in Galilee-wave; 
 It's been a hard pull but frought with full faith 
 Which nerved me to reach this rare shore. 
 
 30 
 
I KNEW A LITTLE BOY 
 
 I knew a little boy, how small 
 He seemed when first he ope'd his eyes. 
 I watched impatient to see him crawl, 
 And urge his lips and light my skies. 
 
 I knew a little boy, how bright. 
 He waked the house with genius-joy. 
 And played and lived with sense of right,- 
 He was pure soul without alloy. 
 
 I knew a little boy, how sweet. 
 When peaceful slumbers twined his face, 
 Or smiles and kiss my coming greet, 
 Or chance he ran the race with grace. 
 
 I knew a little boy, how strong 
 And brave he courted cold and heat, 
 And kept full up with bravest song. 
 And scorned to mention weary feet. 
 
 I knew a little boy, how soon 
 From birth he took his eternal flight, 
 And left us in life's freshest noon 
 Bereft of love — it seemed like night. 
 
 I knew a little boy — and now 
 I pass and near his spirit's realm. 
 He lives, and I: though my dim brow 
 O'erlooks his craft with him at helm. 
 
 31 
 
CARNALITY 
 
 What age ? As though my years took rise from 
 
 recent wail of birth, 
 As if one's eyes ope'd to this vale of care with look 
 
 still fresh; 
 When, truth, long ages drift from present years and 
 
 through them all 
 I saw and thought and did my act long age of life 
 
 I knew. 
 
 Like sluice gates lifted high to speed the waters to 
 
 the wheel, 
 Old Adam's kith and all his kin pour their curst 
 
 blood in me, 
 And I no new fresh start of holy life but heart to 
 
 hold 
 The taint of fever-cursed sin and crime and grasp 
 
 of good. 
 
 The old is in me — the old of man, the old of woman, 
 
 and me 
 Their product to hold well-or-ill their grist of life, 
 
 of good or wrong. 
 This take I with reluctant thought of help or sting I 
 
 soon 
 Shall put to test and force best struggle to make life 
 
 prove true. 
 
 32 
 
Thus life so recently a zoo, with mind and soul so 
 
 new, 
 Must reckon with the flesh so bold to worst the hate 
 
 and rage, 
 To shame bold lust and rein the steed so sure to 
 
 take the bit; 
 The ape and tiger and the bear must cringe before 
 
 the soul. 
 
 Yet here is human jungle astir with lustful lair of 
 
 sin 
 So swift to breed large protege of wild fierce deeds 
 
 of wrong: 
 A woman at the noonday well, a Peter breaking 
 
 chill 
 By fire, a royal king lost heav'n to take stall in the 
 
 flesh. 
 
 What better are our homes than barns with rooms 
 
 to keep flesh sleek, 
 If birth of flesh is all we prize when birth of soul is 
 
 urged , 
 
 By One who leaped to earth afresh unstained by 
 
 race of sin, 
 Conceived by God the Good to give new life through 
 
 love's strong birth. 
 
 With reason man should blaze and light his way to 
 truth and God; 
 
 For some sad cause Eve learned not full the Gar- 
 den's rationale. 
 
 33 
 
But disobeyed 'gainst reason's curb and took the 
 
 fall, forsooth, 
 That blinded man to perjure faith and ply the 
 
 sophist's trade. 
 
 Reason cries, " Give heed to God and listen to His 
 
 voice; 
 Forsake the sin, confess the v^rong, cling firm to 
 
 Calvary's tree" — 
 Lewd voices, siren v^hispers, v^ith sting of deadly 
 
 WAords speak forth 
 And smite the health of reason into gasps of sickly 
 
 thoughts. 
 
 The dignity of choice has set man high on peak of 
 
 rank 
 Where he might view from Pisgah heights the land 
 
 of milk and wine, 
 (In contrast with dark Pharaoh's slavish task of 
 
 strawless bricks) 
 To better, nobler heritage where chosen race might 
 
 march. 
 
 Hark! What that moaning of the crowd ? Lament 
 
 for fleshpots old, 
 A wandering of forty years, — lament sad mixed 
 
 with pledge 
 Of land of plenty, peace of race, a golden age of 
 
 God — 
 'Twas the sin of man, perverted will, bad bargaining 
 
 for good! 
 
 34 
 
I see the same race front the man whose weakened 
 reason asked, 
 
 "What is truth?'* Here Jew had the chance to 
 prove their boasted race 
 
 By answer to cold Pilate's call, " Shall Christ go 
 free or — him," 
 
 With finger stretched toward guilty thief. " Bar- 
 abbas must go free ! " 
 
 Perverse thou art, O leperous race, stupid to choose 
 
 the crime 
 That nailed pure Love of heaven to a cross so curst 
 
 with shame. 
 And let gross passion's sin 'gainst brotherhood go 
 
 guilty free! 
 O Felon, how speaks heaven pure against thy mess 
 
 of lust! 
 
 Persistent flesh, weakness of mind, and stubborn 
 
 perverse will 
 Curse holy dreams and blunder through weak effort 
 
 to stand true. 
 All this is wrong for man whose rank stands next 
 
 to angel-choir 
 Which hailed low earth with " peace " and " happy 
 
 weal " to bless mankind. 
 
 35 
 
Some diabolic monster climbed the cab at midnight 
 
 hour 
 And tinkered with the valves and set at odds the 
 
 v^orkings so 
 That when the trusty engineer leaped to his trusty 
 
 seat 
 And pulled the lever, set the breaks when near the 
 
 treacherous curve, 
 The engine leaped ahead and plunged — O God, 
 
 who meddled, tell! 
 
 By days and weeks and years and life we meet the 
 
 same disaster: 
 The thing we would we fail to do, and things we 
 
 hate we practice. 
 This true the awful truth must out — some Satan, 
 
 villain, wretch 
 Has climbed the lawful use of flesh, blasted the will 
 
 and mind. 
 O Christ, this blood, this birth of flesh, this race, 
 
 this creature man 
 Must seek again a safer womb than Eve gave to this 
 
 earth; 
 No Abram's seed can safely hold that which is born 
 
 of man: 
 That which is born of God is pure and sane and safe 
 
 fore*er. 
 
 36 
 
CONSCIENCE 
 
 Nought in this Conscience, when one sees yon 
 
 woman cast her child 
 Face down into the cruel tide with comfort in her 
 
 breast ? 
 "Nothing; in Conscience," sneer you bold and 
 
 point in glee to stake 
 With India's virgin tied to satisfy religion's need ? 
 Nothing in Conscience just because you scorn to 
 
 heed his voice ? 
 Say, friend, — watch Conscience in the breast of 
 
 Peter or of Paul! 
 
 Conscience in us though voice of God is sentinel on 
 guard; 
 
 You give the watchword and the sign and Con- 
 science will faithful stand. 
 
 If you enlist in pagan rite or tent in the fields of the 
 foe 
 
 After you slink from ranks of God to fight 'gainst 
 the cause of right, 
 
 Conscience will meet you on his beat, though chance 
 you slipped him by. 
 
 And cry, "Halt, man, give countersign! What 
 business brings you here!" 
 
 37 
 
One night I stole up softly to the guard and drew 
 
 him near 
 And whispered, " Don't make fuss if footsteps 
 
 rouse your attentive ear, 
 But let the soft-robed stranger pass you by — to me 
 
 she's bent; 
 For she has word I want to hear and love I lust to 
 
 try." ... 
 I thought her coming brought me bliss the day she 
 
 smiled on me 
 And sped into the camp, then left. To arms! She 
 ;py! 
 
 You may have 'listed as a man in the bivouac of 
 hfe, 
 
 To follow right and fight hell's wrong under com- 
 mand of God; 
 
 And if your Chief stood Conscience in the breach 
 'tween good and lust 
 
 Act loyal to your muster-day, the day you were born 
 man. 
 
 And live the life your birth-rank shows and praise 
 the sentinel 
 
 Who stands unflinching on the line to guard the 
 souls of men. 
 
 38 
 
One night, deep into midnight's gloom, I stole 
 
 upon the line 
 To see if precious troops were safe and sentinel 
 
 alive, 
 When to my astonished eyes I saw all doubled up 
 
 and still 
 My sentinel bound hand and foot — still breathing, 
 
 mind a blank. 
 I heard the crackling of the twigs dried with the 
 
 Autumn's breath. 
 And knew foul play was heaped upon our guard that 
 
 one might sin. 
 
 I tore down pathway to confront the fraud who 
 dared to tempt 
 
 Disaster to our sleeping host full sure of waking 
 guard; 
 
 Sure he must wear the gray I madly ran with pistol 
 cocked. 
 
 When, God forgive! — he wore the blue, my trusty, 
 my own man! 
 
 Shame smote his brow as right it should. " Cow- 
 ard! And traitor! See 
 
 Your best friend and your country's brave betrayed 
 that you might sin!" 
 
 39 
 
" Go chained in steel to yon guardhouse, and, 
 stripped of weapons, feel 
 
 Your treachery to expose your troop for one un- 
 lawful hour." . . . 
 
 Come, man, and loose this brave guard's form; 
 give him a chance to rise. 
 
 Bathe his brow, suage fevered thirst, give food to 
 nerve his strength. 
 
 His fall was no fault of his own. Who smote the 
 guard to flee 
 
 Restraint of virtue's call to account might have 
 smit his comrade's brow. 
 
 Conscience is the all-seeing eye though you may 
 
 seek the dark, 
 Like balls of fire in dangerous cave warn you of 
 
 bruin's lair. 
 'Tis Conscience, brave and strong and good, makes 
 
 cowards of us all! 
 Conscience is pyre of the Last Judgment Day 
 
 kindled in distant pit. 
 And flashes of it lighteth up your false face for the 
 
 wrongs that some day must be judged; — 
 But may prove the red light of danger I've passed 
 
 through keeping the highway of truth. 
 
 40 
 
Thanks to Thee, Chief, for Conscience* strength 
 
 blest with immortal youth. 
 Knees weaken, eyes their luster lose, memory fades 
 
 out of sight. 
 Death stalks into the barrack-hall to lead away the 
 
 man 
 Who mustered in like bud of spring, who mustered 
 
 out — decay. 
 Dim burned the lamp of flesh and blood and dim 
 
 grew light of thought; 
 But at the end of life the light of Conscience burned 
 
 more bricrht. 
 
 Be true to Conscience, neighbor, make it prompt as 
 
 needle swing 
 To spurn the east or west when in the north the call 
 
 is heard. 
 Make keen thy mind and grasp of things, make love 
 
 and friendship strong. 
 Make soul hear voice of God and guide the ship 
 
 of life past shoals, — 
 Past soundings false and shallow*s roar, past isles 
 
 of minstrelsy; 
 Give education keen and wise to this guard of the 
 
 soul. 
 
 41 
 
If in the course of thy Hfe's way thy conscience 
 
 leaps Hke waves, 
 Toss high and rage with wrath's white-crests and 
 
 moan in fever's heat, 
 Remember Hke the cooling cheek of normal health 
 
 of flesh, 
 Conscience is health and calm, unruffled as the 
 
 peace of sea. 
 If true to voice of God, " Fall in and march to 
 
 conquer ill," 
 There is no hell, nor pyre, nor shame, if you have 
 
 loved your God. 
 
 42 
 
THE UPPER AND THE NETHER SPRINGS 
 
 'Twas the hero of Kiijathsepher, Othniel the son of 
 
 Kenaz — 
 In the land of promise, long ago — 
 Who so captivated Caleb the stanch advocate of 
 
 Moses 
 When he battled boldly, madly, smote the city to 
 
 claim sweet lass, 
 The fond daughter of old Caleb, splendid trophy 
 
 (none surpass) 
 Pledged as spur to noble valor in fulfilment of his 
 
 promise, 
 In the land of promise, long ago. 
 
 Then she sought a dowry of this Chief'of Israel's 
 
 strong host, 
 In the land of promise, long ago; 
 And she moved her new wed husband to request a 
 
 dowered land-coast, 
 A warm southland unmolested by the hunger of the 
 
 frost. 
 Said she: ** Give me springs of water lest my 
 
 pastured flocks be lost." 
 So he willed her up and nether springs as blessings 
 
 when she asked — 
 In the land of promise, long ago. 
 
 43 
 
There's an upper and a nether spring where one his 
 
 thirst assuage, 
 In the pastures where the soul feeds well; 
 For the life without replenishment grows barren, 
 
 like the Sage 
 Pressed by crowd of Bethlehem and cried, ** Who 
 
 touched me (not in rage) ? 
 For of certain, virtue fled from Him, his richest 
 
 heritage. 
 Straight He found His blest retreat, slaked thirst in 
 
 filial homage — 
 In the pastures where the soul feeds well. 
 
 Well, the nomad's in us and we restless trample o'er 
 
 the main 
 (In the pastures where the soul feeds well) 
 In the search for springs of water, days of labor that 
 
 bring gain. 
 Thus we see whole populations squatting near some 
 
 mart of fame: 
 School and factory and churches, civilizing heart 
 
 and brain; 
 Crowded cities nursing life through labor's spigot 
 
 tapping vein 
 In the pastures where the soul feeds well. 
 
Near the nether spring of Hfe the bulk of human 
 beings dwell, 
 
 In the pastures where the soul feeds well; 
 
 Hoarse men measuring the outflow cry, ** How 
 much your income, tell ! " 
 
 And a motley drove of toilers scan their store ac- 
 counts and dwell 
 
 Upon the cost of living in these days and never 
 dread the knell 
 
 Of the scanty mental incomes and the starved soul, 
 forced to Hell. 
 
 Oh, for pastures where all souls feed well. 
 
 No complaint have I of food and clothes and health 
 
 and comely looks 
 In the pastures where the soul feeds well; 
 Man is born of flesh though brain is tracked through 
 
 discipline and books. 
 Meager would the upper springs comfort body 
 
 without cooks, 
 We're so prone to eat and drink and take full ease 
 
 in shady nooks, 
 To rub eyes in full confession of the drought — 
 
 Climb! Higher brooks 
 In the pastures where the soul feeds well. 
 
 45 
 
There's an up and nether spring for the business 
 man of worth 
 
 In the pastures where the soul feeds well. 
 
 Though he counts up all his profits he is conscious 
 of a dearth; 
 
 Though he buys and sells much produce to stop 
 hunger's growing mirth 
 
 He must tent his soul by upper spring to enlarge the 
 mental girth, 
 
 Learn the taste of God's ambrosia and gain high- 
 lands of the earth — 
 
 In the pastures where the soul feeds well. 
 
 In your reading choose the masters, they who ope'd 
 
 the upper spring 
 In the pastures where the soul feeds well; ' 
 Where you slake your thirst and wed trut^ /tke the 
 
 bride with wedding ring. -" 
 
 Social man's too prone to lounge beneath'V^ '^nether 
 
 boughs of spring, ' 
 
 While away the fast sped hours of rightf*^* g^in, fast 
 
 sped on wing; 
 At God's altars mercy lade with solace for the hearts 
 
 we bring, 
 In the pastures where the soul feeds well. 
 
 46 
 
Karshish, queer old Arab doctor, learned of Laz- 
 
 arus's new life 
 (In the pastures where the soul feeds well) 
 Brought from clammy tomb of sadness to make 
 
 glad the neighbors rife, 
 By the Nazarene who used some magic force — 
 
 here was the strife; 
 " How could Jesus do, O Abib, what we've failed 
 
 to do with life ? " 
 Shall I tell, O doubting Karshish ? He drank deep 
 
 the heart of life 
 In the pastures where the soul feeds well. 
 
 Saul of Tarsus filled his life cup from the nether 
 
 s "trings of culture 
 In the ' stures where the soul feeds well; 
 So into ated by the human fluid, like a vulture 
 He po cd down upon the Christians, sent rapt 
 
 K. hen to sepulture; 
 Furious n Je he toward Damascus, bent to smite 
 
 the church with rupture . . . 
 Gushed from heaven's upper springs the flood that 
 
 brought him blessed rapture. 
 In the pastures where the soul feeds well. 
 
 47 
 
Drew I nearer to the upper spring in radiant adora- 
 tion, 
 
 In the pastures where the soul feeds well; 
 
 Bravely looked into the flowing pool I saw — Oh; 
 consternation! 
 
 The clear image of a face (not mine), the Lord of 
 all creation! 
 
 'Twas the Jesus! Then I knew the truth: this 
 spring of inspiration 
 
 Of the strivings of the pure is smile of holy recog- 
 nition 
 
 In the land of promise, then and now. 
 
 48 
 
THE PRINCE 
 
 Tired with the hunt and hunger's heat aflame, 
 
 Blind Esau sold for broth a birthright rich 
 
 As any Croesus's piled up lucreware 
 
 To boast before some poor forsaken wretch; 
 
 For, was not the Messiah Son to crop 
 
 From his enhallowed loins like gold from vein 
 
 Of ordinary rock ? Yet bold to heave 
 
 The precious honor to a brother steeled 
 
 To take an eager hold upon the right 
 
 To ope a soul to gain a blessing fresh 
 
 From the prone hand of Isaac's innocence. 
 
 The blessing giv'n through pressure of a hand 
 
 Masked with false hair else than of rightful heir, 
 
 The new-made ancestor o' the Holy Lord 
 
 Took mad leap to his uncle Laban's house 
 
 Where brother of his mother (moist with guilt) 
 
 Gave shelter for some twenty years. 
 
 Alone 
 
 And distant from his former haunts and friends 
 He undertook to find his boyhood home. 
 
 Once near and conscious of the threat of wrath 
 From Esau's pent-up hurt of bankrupt sale, 
 He sent sure word in hope of Esau's grace 
 To suffer wrongs of twenty years to die. 
 
 49 
 
Back came armed messengers to say for sure: 
 
 " Thy brother Esau comes, four hundred men 
 
 To greet thy coming home with sharp steel drawn ! " 
 
 Like acorns rooted in the soil grow oaks, 
 
 Or tares sowed in reluctant soil in pledge 
 
 To wheat already sowed to garner in. 
 
 Wrongs of some former years (though wet with 
 
 tears) 
 Forget no yielding of whatever sown. 
 To meet the wrongs keen watched in Esau's heart 
 Like sentinel full armed with knowledge that 
 The enemy lurked near with wizard feet, 
 Young Jacob halved his flocks and sends a gift 
 Of she-goats and of he-goats, ewes, and rams. 
 With camels and their colts and cows, with bulls 
 And asses and their foals — full five hundred. 
 By stealth of night he sent his wives and sons 
 Across the Jabbock stream while he remained 
 To fit his mind to right his soul next day 
 With Esau — when a stranger challenged him 
 To wrestle for the victory. At first 
 Sure of an easy fling of this lone man 
 He learned 'fore morn 'twas citizen from heav'n 
 He met. We scarcely know the nature of 
 The crowds we meet, how much is human, who 
 Divine. God entered Luther and as man 
 God wrestled with those corrupt countrymen 
 Until the break of day. Disguised in form 
 
 50 
 
Of minister God speaks; yet rash men turn 
 
 Away dead, dreamless that the messaf^e came 
 
 From God. May heaven help us never turn 
 
 Away from God when He comes close whate'er 
 
 The form of man He take. So Jacob gripped 
 
 His God in angel till the gray of morn 
 
 Full willed if heaven's surety were that near 
 
 He'd stay and wait — as well might wrestle hot 
 
 And rigid with their knotted thighs firm pressed 
 
 To fell the other to his place upon 
 
 The ground — thus triumph in the full spent time. 
 
 With full spent man pit 'gainst a worthy foe 
 
 If blessings only come in answer to 
 
 An Abram's child with pledge of divine use. 
 
 He would not yield! Then some mysterious touch 
 
 Spent force on thigh until he limped with pain. 
 
 Still wrestled he the more and moaned between 
 
 His gasping breaths: " I will not let thee go 
 
 Until thou bless!" 
 
 O halt of earth, courage! 
 Though tired still pray unyielding with thy God; 
 Though touched with business cares just as you gain 
 Sure hold on God, and feel the crippled bone 
 And shrunken sinews of discordant strife, 
 Keep firm thy hold and steel thy nerve to cling 
 To God though day break in with duties rife: 
 Though Esau waits with hundred men all armed 
 Your destiny is held in gain of God. 
 
 51 
 
No longer slave, despised supplanter, — hear! 
 
 Thy name's been changed — a prince thou art with 
 
 God. 
 Thou hast prevailed and v^on high graces for 
 Thy race. Thou art a prince; the realm of power 
 Is found in thee. 
 
 Who builds a house of wood 
 Or stone calls God for power to keep in place 
 Lest 'chance the pull of God in gravity's 
 Stronghold of stone and house to earth be fled 
 Or broken, flinging stone and brick and stick 
 Out into space, and skip and jump of lad 
 Land him on some unhuman shore or sail 
 Like meteor around, away, or dangle 
 Frantic with terror at the loss of earth. 
 The wizard had this power of God. He wrest 
 With angel mystery, electric winged. 
 And came to daybreak holding key to light. 
 Before, stood Watt with struggling eyelids set 
 On kettle fat with steam to loose dumb beast 
 On weary tread of endless path, nowhere 
 Unless a stall and feed. 
 
 So Jacob set 
 To higher powers to loose for man's clear need 
 An inner wizardry of holy help 
 
 Through prayer; to put to junk heap wretched tire, 
 The tread of sinful man around blind path, 
 A circle of eternal gloom whipped on 
 By Satan's impish lash of scorn to hope 
 For ease or loosened touch of human hand 
 Of God, to show how man has highway worth 
 His plans and highest dreams of golden dawn 
 And city filled with love, celestial joy. 
 
 52 
 
So prayer prepares the way for God's advent 
 To earth that we be blest. .... 
 
 See foaming horse 
 
 With weary courier — a message, ho! 
 
 Long weary mile and aching limbs and horse 
 
 Sore lamed and ruined by the needful speed; 
 
 But now — a wire and cipher-key to speed 
 
 The news a thousand miles — a new highway 
 
 With travelers aseat in parlors grand 
 
 While out is winter's cold and blizzard rage. 
 
 Now without fear of dumb, black reach of wire 
 
 A spark and — shades of twinkling star — he 
 
 hears! 
 A thought in need of friend somewhere apart 
 That he is dead or dying or in pain 
 Has broken in upon my serene mind 
 Like lightning flashes out of clear, blue sky. 
 If one can break into a savage mind 
 With signs and words until he answers with 
 A smile intelligent, and send a thought 
 Half round the earth by wire or wave or — will, 
 Why cannot man make known his will to God 
 And feel the answer in the sense of new 
 Found life ? Make answer, thou sad, prayerless 
 
 poor. 
 
 The wind is blowing from the west and fills 
 The ship with eastward course till haven's reached. 
 The captain might have braved the west and tacked 
 'Gainst teeth and blow of storm though wind blow 
 east. 
 
 53 
 
The blow of cold environment may be 
 Toward wrong or ease or idle calm, while we 
 Oft wonder why we take such point 'gainst sense; 
 A turn toward wind with prayerful tack would bear 
 Us by the selfsame wind (with different set 
 Of sail) to haven and the port of right. 
 
 Poor Jacob little knew the scope of power 
 
 He gained that break of night to day when faint 
 
 With night marked " time for sleep and rest " he 
 
 played 
 The Hercules with heaven's host. When forth 
 He went and Esau saw so old and strange 
 His brother so long missed, he fell upon 
 Tired Jacob's neck and urged a brother's kiss. 
 'Twas power with God that smote the living hate 
 In brother heart; a prince with God becomes 
 A prince with men. Around the golden calf 
 A God-forgetting people surged to urge 
 Their praise to gold and calf as worthy act. 
 When Moses, prince of God in mountain height, 
 Left God to lead a backslid race and grind 
 To powder their dumb god — so helpless, — gone. 
 A prince he was large statured in his soul; 
 A people conscience smit how great the crowd 
 Could not stir awe nor cow his superhuman 
 Sense of right when he had met his God. 
 There is a might not born in trade or school 
 Or earthly marts; God would not let his child 
 Chill on the earth as slave to human wreck 
 Of soul called *' master of finance." O soul 
 Of God thou art a prince ! With might of mind 
 To grasp the honor of a filial love 
 Of God and feel full certain, you're a prince! 
 
 54 
 
MY SYMPHONY 
 
 'Tis the eighth, and your birthday to mark a new 
 
 measure 
 In the making of music for your dear one's full 
 
 pleasure. 
 Life's birth, the uncertain voice that takes pitch. 
 In sweet cadence flows as the days grow more rich. 
 
 Your voice is the music that charms and ennobles 
 
 me; 
 Your eyes are the light by which I safely see; 
 Your quiet ambition and quest of pure soul 
 Calm my rough surging seas and assure me my goal. 
 
 Other ears may hear the same music I hear, 
 See the same face I eager behold all the year; 
 But the overtones, true music's absolute soul, 
 Are the warmth of the hearthstone that makes half- 
 heart whole. 
 
 Simple airs must suffice when one whistles alone; 
 But a full-voiced chorus from flute to trombone 
 Stirs the deeps of a lover who finds homelife a cheer. 
 Where wife and dear children chime anthems so 
 clear. 
 
 If the tune's not so grand nor as classic as might be. 
 The orchestra may change and begin symphony; 
 For I feel that with instruments of patience and love 
 We might wake mellow strains that would rise to 
 Above. 
 
 I* 0^ »^, 
 
 55 
 
If at times the tune sounds dreadful discordant, 
 
 A child's voice too loud, like a roaring bombardment, 
 
 Or a husband a measure too slow or a skip 
 
 Of a score. Then forgive — we forgot — now your 
 
 lip. 
 
 You are my symphony of life — you're my pleasure; 
 In you find I unselfish love in great measure: 
 Through you find I God, for you work with scant 
 
 sum 
 Vigorous with hope for the day that must come. 
 
 Then play, my sweet symphony, play as you did 
 When first you awakened my soul that was hid; 
 Play as you have all these years we've been one, 
 Play on forever, let me feel life's well done. 
 
 Play in deep minors when sorrows break soul. 
 Strike up the twostep of gladness untold; 
 Then when we need nerve in battle's full array. 
 Strike up the march that bids call to the fray. 
 
 Abt Vogler's structure of music fell down 
 When his fingers grew silent before organ of sound; 
 But the music you make by your grace in the home 
 Shall never decay in your children, full grown. 
 
 56 
 
SONNET: THE BEAUTY OF LIFE 
 
 I wondered at the wild-eyed fledgling born 
 And looked disdain upon the summer's seed 
 So ugly when I felt the beauty's need 
 Of form and color and of perfume warm. 
 I wondered at the ploughman's turn of clod 
 When waving grain of golden wealth I craved; 
 My eyes spent tears of anguish at the grave 
 Of cruel clay. No beauty in this sod. 
 
 Months after this I saw the eagle rise 
 
 With grace from nest to jutting crag above; 
 
 I saw sweet rose whose root I chanced despised, 
 
 And knew, from new-made grave, soul sped like 
 
 dove; 
 Then learned I how my Hfe, half fledged, must 
 
 rise, 
 And grow complete and holy in God's love. 
 
 57 
 
SONNET — MARRIAGE 
 
 I dare not call thee mine, O lovely flower, 
 And hide thee with me in my shadowed nest. 
 To press thy lips to mine and drink love's blest 
 Nectar distilled from passion in my bower, 
 
 Without a thought that though we pledge our love 
 With passion's sudden trust of endless bliss. 
 This lovely flower of flesh and soul I kiss 
 May wither in the heat torn from above 
 
 Where root is found, to suflTer coarse outrage 
 From loveless rake dumb to thy fragrance lost 
 On me in first embrace — blest heritage; 
 
 To keep thy flower of virtue from the frost 
 Of deadly sin, I take thee mine for life 
 As steward of a garden fair — my wife. 
 
 58 
 
SONNET: MY ROSE 
 
 I tripped into the garden bower, full willed 
 
 To drink my soul intoxicate with air 
 
 Afloat from off the rose's breath so rare, 
 
 And drink with eyes the dew gems gladly filled 
 
 From morning's eager spring. I scarcely knew 
 
 The warmth of red mixed with the cooling damp 
 
 On leaf and bud till newly lifted lamp 
 
 Of day kissed rosy shade and stole the dew 
 
 And left the sweet moist face with passion writ 
 
 So plainly, that I edged my finger tips 
 
 Beneath the rosy chin and lifting up 
 
 The blushing head (on thorned stalk born to sit) 
 
 I with design held petals to my lips 
 
 And drank that morn a thrill from nature's cup. 
 
 59 
 
SONNET: ALONE IN THE CROWD 
 
 To soothe my fevered brain I sought the glade 
 To drink my fill of nature's poppied wine, 
 This lonely self by eager dream to find 
 A face I long had searched in child or maid. 
 It was not there. I leaped into the crowd 
 And ran, half mad, from man to man alert 
 With wistful eyes that bravely held inert 
 A voiceless sea of tears. I cried aloud, 
 " I am alone in this sad crowded strand: 
 I found a lovely friend with full-orbed joy, 
 I know the pressure of a lovered hand, 
 My mother's heart essays without alloy — 
 Yet I'm alone. I look with anxious sigh 
 To find my better self I know is nigh." 
 
 60 
 
SONNET: THE BOATMAN 
 
 Seated beside a limpid lake, my mind 
 Took yearning on the nature of the soul, 
 When sudden glided forth a skiff so bold 
 You'd think 'twas fiery vengeance's mad design. 
 As timid as a bird disturbed on nest. 
 As graceful as a fawn she leaped across the waves; 
 So living one would think the parting waves 
 Were rhythmic beatings of her breast. 
 
 I followed in her wake until she found 
 
 The shore; when forth the sturdy boatman leaped 
 
 ashore 
 And boat and oar were dead and bound. 
 Then saw I how my flesh propelled by oar 
 Of soul keen eyed to make swift passage straight 
 To distant port must ride death's waves and wait. 
 
 6i 
 
MOODS 
 
 I will hold life serene and constant, 
 Crush every mad rise of rose remontant, 
 Breast every v^ave, across a plain 
 Like towering giant stalks its highness; 
 To loiter near the game of finesse 
 Dare to court chief conceit of shame. 
 
 Once signed, the pledged decree is broken; 
 
 Life like a sea whose winds have spoken 
 
 In variegated language hoarse — 
 
 Now loud, the coarse voice stirs afFrightment, 
 
 Now soft'ning zephyrs whisper contentment — 
 
 How more than life is sea the worse. 
 
 Life has a sky so blue with azure, 
 Drink I its depths to an infinite seizure, 
 Deep times forgotten, then unseen hand 
 Draws filmy clouds across like a face-veil. 
 Now streak of red, gold rimmed, growing pale. 
 Grand .? Yet I've lost the deep, for this strand. 
 
 What shall I do when my moods come rushing 
 
 Like cataract of water gushing 
 
 From dark mysterious fountain-head 
 
 To despoil reason's blest content ? 
 
 Harness these floods ere they be spent 
 
 To grind gold-grist for the mind-hunger's bread. 
 
 62 
 
«^1^- 21 'iMI