Yet still she blushes with new life
At sight of actions fine,
And pales with anguish at the strife
Of evil's dread design.
She stops to sing her grandest lays
When, in creation's heat,
She sees evolved a higher phase
Of life's fruition sweet.
'Twas thus in days of Genesis,
When man came forth supreme.
'Twas thus in days of Nemesis,
When Love did dare redeem.
And thus 'twill be in future days,
When out from spirit laws,
Shall be brought forth for lasting praise
The ever great First Cause.
Oh, gladly know this wondrous muse
Who walks the aisles of Time,
And not so thoughtlessly refuse
Her book of lore sublime;
For in it is the precious force
Of spirit-life divine,
Which even through a winding course
Leads in to Wisdom's shrine.
[AN IMPROMPTU.]
(Written for G. H. T., on the death of W. S. T., March, 1889.)