Aye, even then—o timely hour!—the high gods did confer
In our behalf:—and, clothed in power, lo, came their courier—
Not winged with flame nor shod with wind,—but ambling down the pike,
Horseback, with saddlebags behind, and guise all human-like.
And it was given us to see, beneath his rustic rind,
A native force and mastery of such inspiring kind,
That half unconsciously we made obeisance.—smiling, thus
His soul shone from his eyes and laid its glory over us.
· · · · · ·
Though, faring still that far-away that yet to us seems near,
His form, through mists of yesterday, fades from the vision here,
Forever as he rides, it is in retinue divine,—
The hearts of all his time are his, with your hale heart and mine.
RUBÁIYÁT
OF
DOC SIFERS
I
Ef you don't know Doc Sifers I'll jes argy, here and now,
You've bin a mighty little while about here, anyhow!
'Cause Doc he's rid these roads and woods—er swum 'em, now and then—
And practised in this neighberhood sence hain't no tellin' when!