PSYCHOSCIENCE.
He, who is far from home, knows when the snow
Gives way before the sunny urge of Spring,
When the first ecstasies of bluebirds go
Through blossomed loops and boughs bee-murmuring,
When brier roses starrily compose
Upon the scented spray—he, homesick, knows.
He, that is far from love, knows when the face
That knew his face is raised to summer stars;
He, like that other, hungers in his place,
And, like that other, grips his prison bars—
And when that upturned face can no more smile,
He knows; and whispers comfort, mile on mile.
He, who feels far from God, knows when the Word
Comes light upon a golden-shadowed hill;
On his dim path the radiance has stirred,
Deep in a dream he shrines his knowledge; still
Keeping his thorny ways, intent he goes,
Knowing the Hidden that infinitely knows!
BEACON LIGHTS.
When I am cowardly, sick of the fight,
Dumb for the right word, nerveless for deeds that dare,
Blaze up in my heart, square little Brant Point Light;
Light me a broad path starred with a burnished flare!
If I am tossing on a sea of doubt,
And have no harbor, no fair shore to know,
Sankaty, like an angel, spread your great wings out,
Headland and coastward light, give me your glow!
If I am lost and waves go over me,
Tossing, engulfing hollows o’er my head;
Thou, Great Point Light, will surely cover me,
And by thy strong white clue I shall be led!
When I am caught in foam of treacherous beach,
And all the darkness presses like a wall,
Blaze, Island lights, beyond the Island reach;
Beacon me to the Utmost Light of all!