THE WATCHER
As the wave to the shore, as the dew to the leaf,
As the breeze to the flower,
As the scent of a rose to the heart of a child,
As the rain to the dusty land—
My heart goeth out unto Thee—unto Thee!
The night is far spent and the day is at hand.
As the song of a bird to the call of a star,
As the sun to the eye,
As the anvil of man to the hammers of God,
As the snow to the earth—
Is my word unto Thy word—to Thy word!
The night is far spent and the day is at hand
THE WAKING
To be young is to dream, and I dreamed no more;
I had smothered my heart as the fighter can:
I toiled, and I looked not behind or before—
I was stone; but I waked with the heart of a man.
By the soul at her lips, by the light of her eyes,
I dreamed a new dream as the sleeper can,
That the heavenly folly of youth was wise—
I was stone; but I waked with the heart of a man.
She came like a song, she will go like a star:
I shall tread the hills as the hunter can,
Mine eyes to the hunt, and my soul afar—
I was stone; but I waked with the heart of a man.
WHEN ONE FORGETS
When one forgets, the old things are as dead things;
The grey leaves fall, and eyes that saw their May
Turn from them now, and voices that have said things
Wherein Life joyed, alas! are still to-day—
When one forgets.
The world was noble, now its sordid casement
Glows but with garish folly, and the plains
Of rich achievement lie in mean abasement—
Ah, Hope is only midwife to our pains!
When one forgets, but maimed rites come after:
To mourn, be priest, be sexton, bear the pall,
Remembrance-robed, the while a distant laughter
Proclaims Love’s ghost—what wonder skies should fall,
When one forgets!