"'Tis all a Chequer-Board of Nights and Days,
Where Detiny with men for pieces plays,
Hither and thither moves, and mates and slays,
And one by one back in the Closet lays."
Omar Khayyam.
A Chequer-Board of mingled Light and Shade?
And We the Pieces on it deftly laid?
Moved and removed, without a word to say,
By the Same Hand that Board and Pieces made?
No Pieces we in any Fateful Game,
Nor free to shift on Destiny the blame;
Each Soul doth tend its own immortal flame,
Fans it to Heaven, or smothers it in shame.
CROSS-ROADS
Oft, as he jogs along the Winding-Way,
Occasion comes for Every Man to say,—
"This Road?—or That?" and as he chooses them,
So shall his journey end in Night or Day.
QUO VADIS?
Peter, outworn,
And menaced by the sword,
Shook off the dust of Rome;
And, as he fled,
Met one, with eager face,
Hastening cityward,
And, to his vast amaze,
It was The Lord.
"Lord, whither goest Thou?"
He cried, importunate,
And Christ replied,—
"Peter, I suffer loss.
I go to take thy place,
To bear thy cross."
Then Peter bowed his head,
Discomforted;
There, at the Master's feet,
Found grace complete,
And courage, and new faith,
And turned—with Him,
To Death.
So we,—
Whene'er we fail
Of our full duty,
Cast on Him our load,—
Who suffered sore for us,
Who frail flesh wore for us,
Who all things bore for us,—
On Christ, The Lord.