THE OPTIMIST
Teach me to live and to forgive
The death that all must die
Who pass in slumber through this heaven
Of earth and sea and sky; Who live by grace of Time and Space
At which their peace is priced;
And cast their lots upon the robe
That wraps the cosmic Christ;
Who cannot see the world-wide Tree
Where Love lies bleeding still;
This universal cross of God
Our star-crowned Igdrasil.
Teach me to live; I do not ask
For length of earthly days,
Or that my heaven-appointed task
Should fall in pleasant ways;
If in this hour of warmth and light
The last great knell were knolled;
If Death should close mine eyes to-night
And all the tale be told;
While I have lips to speak or sing
And power to draw this breath,
Shall I not praise my Lord and King
Above all else, for death?
When on a golden eve he drove
His keenest sorrow deep
Deep in my heart, and called it love;
I did not wince or weep.
A wild Hosanna shook the world
And wakened all the sky,
As through a white and burning light
Her passionate face went by.
When on a golden dawn he called
My best beloved away,
I did not shrink or stand appalled
Before the hopeless day.
The joy of that triumphant dearth
And anguish cannot die;
The joy that casts aside this earth
For immortality.