Though peace of heart, and happiness of soul,
Await the seeker at that farther goal,
With love and all its rapture and its pain,
Close to the shores of earth I must remain.
Nor yet would I relinquish my sweet dream
To gain possession of the Fact supreme.
I am attached, and well content to stay,
Learning such truths as love may send my way.
AN EPISODE
Along the narrow Moorish street
A blue-eyed soldier strode.
(Ah, well-a-day)
Veiled from her lashes to her feet
She stepped from her abode,
(Ah, lack-a-day).
Now love may guard a favoured wife
Who leaves the harem door;
(Ah, well-a-day)
But hungry hearted is her life
When she is one of four.
(Ah, lack-a-day.)
If black eyes glow with sudden fire
And meet warm eyes of blue—
(Ah, well-a-day).
The old, old story of desire
Repeats itself anew.
(Ah, lack-a-day.)
When bugles blow the soldier flies—
Though bitter tears may fall
(Ah, lack-a-day).
A Moorish child with blue, blue eyes
Plays in the harem hall.
(Ah, well-a-day.)
THE VOICE OF THE VOICELESS
I am the voice of the voiceless;
Through me the dumb shall speak;
Till the deaf world’s ear be made to hear
The cry of the wordless weak.
From street, from cage, and from kennel,
From jungle and stall, the wail
Of my tortured kin proclaims the sin
Of the mighty against the frail.
I am a ray from the centre;
And I will feed God’s spark,
Till a great light glows in the night and shows
The dark deeds done in the dark.
And full on the thoughtless sleeper
Shall flash its glaring flame,
Till he wakens to see what crimes may be
Cloaked under an honoured name.