She would have told you that she had
No clever gifts to win and wile;
No cunning trick of speech or song
To charm and change your mood the while,
Not under her smooth fingers flowed
The music, by her touch set free;
Not through her hands her inward dream
Was wrought for all the world to see.
And yet—she spoke, and in his soul
One heard the song his vision sought;
And one within her eyes beheld
The symbol of his noblest thought;
And one who held that Beauty dwelt
A thing apart from common need,
Passed through her door and went his way
To voice a finer, truer creed.
She would have said no gift was hers,
No power of speech or brush or pen;
And yet—who passing touched her hand,
Turned to his highest dream again
With surer faith and larger hope—
For hers, the great gift to inspire,
To shine across our duller lives
And light them as with temple fire.
THE LIFE EXPRESS
When all is said life’s not unlike a train—
Save that we take it if we will or no—
And whence it comes, and whither it will go,
Or if it will companion us again,
No guide books tell, no mapped time tables show;
Nor of the miles ahead can any know—
Whether tomorrow’s road be hill or plain.
For some the swift express; the rumbling freight
For others; some must till the end harrass
Their souls for fare, while others ride in state—
Yet to one end that heeds not caste or class.
When we outside that far Last Station wait
May the Great Agent meet us with a pass.
FOR A BIRTHDAY
Wiser and older grown
I will not wish you, nor say,
“Many returns of the day!”
Nor bid for happiness—
Since Life will ban or bless
Still in the old, stern way.
If years be a boon or curse
I reckon a close-drawn thing;
And doubt if the good they bring
Outweighs by a hair the pain—
If the loss sink not the gain—
Yet, be yours as you onward wend,
Strong soul, and rest at the end.
GOD SPEED
Comrade, whose eyes have seen beyond
That Last Horizon lone and far;
Remoter than the utmost star
That watches on the rim of space;
I that shall see no more your face,
Save in some vision brief and fond,
I that alone must go and come,
I that alone must stay or roam,
Bid you God speed and hearty cheer,
Bid you a joy untouched of fear
On every road a soul may take.
To fuller life, to dreamless sleep,
To all a heart may give or keep,
God speed you, guide your going—yet
The roads of earth not quite forget.
A CHANT TO DEATH
When the bright sunrise slants across the hills
And every peak is like a golden tower
Where some glad face looks East to meet the day,
My heart leaps strong with thankfulness for dawn,
Singing like Memnon in the sands of old
For fresh hope and new promise. And when noon
Poises the far sun midway in his course
I joy in space for working; for an hour
In which to shape my hidden thought a form
Before my fellows, that my dream may live
When I am brother to the silent dust.
And when night’s shadow folds the weary earth,
With all her burden of tired hearts that pray,
Best of life’s gifts, sleep and forgetfulness,
One boon alone I crave of heaven, rest.
But most I bow in thankfulness for death;
Wise death, kind death, who softly stoops to lay
All pitiful a cool hand on the brow
That life has fevered with his pitiless
Stern goading on an ever-fruitless round.
Master of Fate, and rest’s own almoner,
No angel sable-winged and harsh and cold,
No black-robed, hidden-visaged shape art thou,
Preying upon the frightened souls of men;
But a near friend, whose hand upon our own
Touches to strengthen, and whose shadow is
Like the one tree within a sun swept waste.
Hope giver, healer, they who would upbraid
Thy name and coming know not thee nor life;
But we who work here in the dark, we know.
We know whose name gives courage for the fight;
Whose call rings “Forward” down the lagging line.
Captained by thee we lift each day the load
To aching shoulders, take the road once more
With song and laughter and bugle blown
To straggling comrades: “Look you, man, good cheer!”
Who knows? Perhaps tonight we bivouac;
Face front, and let us win our rest like men;
With tasks well done and nothing scrimped or shirked;
Sure that at last we get discharge of Life
And serve a gentler master, even Death.