The sin, if sin it was, I do repent,
And take the penance on myself alone;
Yet after I have borne the punishment,
I shall not fear to stand before the throne
Of Love with open heart, and make this plea:
"At least I have not lied to her nor Thee!"
GRATITUDE
Do you give thanks for this?—or that?"
No, God be thanked
I am not grateful
In that cold, calculating way, with blessing
ranked
As one, two, three, and four,—that would be
hateful.
I only know that every day brings good above
My poor deserving;
I only feel that, in the road of Life, true Love
Is leading me along and never swerving.
Whatever gifts and mercies in my lot may fall,
I would not measure
As worth a certain price in praise, or great or
small;
But take and use them all with simple pleasure.
For when we gladly eat our daily bread, we bless
The Hand that feeds us;
And when we tread the road of Life in cheer-
fulness,
Our very heart-beats praise the Love that leads
us.
MASTER OF MUSIC
(In memory of Theodore Thomas, 1905)
Glory of architect, glory of painter, and sculp-
tor, and bard,
Living forever in temple and picture and statue
and song,—
Look how the world with the lights that they lit
is illumined and starred,
Brief was the flame of their life, but the lamps
of their art burn long!
Where is the Master of Music, and how has he
vanished away?
Where is the work that he wrought with his
wonderful art in the air?
Gone,—it is gone like the glow on the cloud
at the close of the day!
The Master has finished his work, and the glory
of music is—where?