THE MANY ROADS
HORACE HOLLEY ex-'10
The north road, the south road,
Highway, byway,
There never was a road men trod
That did not lead them home.
The east road, the west road,
Your way, my way,
Men's tangled footprints end in God,
Through Arcady or Rome.
Literary Monthly, 1907.
BEAUTY
HORACE HOLLEY ex-'10
Her beauty lies upon her face
As sunlight masks the barren sea;
A fitful, accidental grace
Which time shall ruin utterly.
Not like the Beauty all divine
(The "house of God," the poet saith),
Which is the craftsman-soul's design,
Its majesty supreme in death.
Literary Monthly, 1908.