Thee in thy kingdom, where thy graces live.
Wilt thou not one day whisper, "You have climbed
Beyond your merits; pray you, fall behind"?
Wish thy friend joy of his journey, but pray in secret
that he have no joy, for then may he return quickly to thee.
—Egyptian Proverb.
DIVIDED
Divided by no act of thine or mine,
Forever parted by a fatal deed,
A fatal feud. Alas! when fathers bleed,
The children shall fulfil the wild design.
A Montague hath killed a Capulet,
A Capulet hath slain a Montague,—
Twin graves, twin sorrows, and oh, mad to-do
Of vengeance! oh, dread entail of regret!
There lie they in their dark, self-chosen graves,
And from them cries Hate's everlasting ghost,—
"Blood hath been shed, and Love and ye are slaves,
Time wrecks, and freedom drifts upon life's coast."
Yet not for us the relish of that doom
Which found a throne upon a Juliet's tomb.
WE MUST LIVE ON
We must live on; a deeper tragedy:
To see, to touch, to know, and to desire;
To feel in every vein the glorious fire
Of Eden, and to cry, "Oh, to be free!"
To cry, "Oh, wipe the gloomy stain away,
Thou who first raised the sword, Who gave the hilt
Into the hand of man. This blood they spilt—
Our fathers—oh, blot out the bitter day!