THE RECOMPENSE
O ancient ocean, with what courage stern
Thy tides, since time began, have sought to gain
The luring moon, toward which they rise in vain,
Yet daily to their futile aim return.
Like thee do glorious human spirits yearn
And strive and fail and strive and fail again
Some starlike aspiration to attain,
Some light that ever shall above them burn.
Yet truly shall their recompense abide
To all who strive, although unreached their goal:
The ceaseless surgings of the ocean tide
Do cleanse the mighty waters which they roll,
And the high dreams in which it vainly sighed
Make pure the deeps of the aspiring soul.
THE TEST
“He fears not death, and therefore he is brave”—
How common yet how childish is the thought,
As if death were the hardest battle fought,
And earth held naught more dreadful than the grave!
In life, not death, doth lie the brave soul’s test,
For life demandeth purpose long and sure,
The strength to strive, the patience to endure;
Death calls for one brief struggle, then gives rest.
Through our fleet years then let us do our part
With willing arm, clear brain, and steady nerve;
In death’s dark hour no spirit true will swerve,
If he have lived his life with dauntless heart.
TO A DEAD BABY
Pale little feet, grown quiet ere they could run
One step in life’s strange journey; sweet lips chilled
To silence ere they prattled; small hands stilled
Before one stroke of life’s long toil was done;
Uncreased white brows that laurels might have won,
Yet leave their spacious promise unfulfilled—
O baby dead, I cannot think God willed
Your life should end when it had scarce begun!
If no man died till his long life should leave
All hopes and aims fulfilled, until his feet
Had trod all paths where men rejoice or grieve,
I might have doubt of future life more sweet;
But as I look on you, I must believe
There is a heaven that makes this earth complete.