THE FORERUNNER
A MONTHLY MAGAZINE
BY
CHARLOTTE PERKINS GILMAN
AUTHOR, OWNER & PUBLISHER
1.00 A YEAR .10 A COPY
Volume 1. No. 5 MARCH, 1910 Copyright for 1910 C. P. Gilman
How many a useless stone we find
Swallowed in that capacious, blind,
Faith-swollen gullet, our ancestral mind!
THE SANDS
It runs—it runs—the hourglass turning;
Dark sands glooming, bright sands burning;
I turn—and turn—with heavy or hopeful hands;
So must I turn as long as the Voice commands;
But I lose all count of the hours for watching the sliding sands.
Or fast—or slow—it ceases turning;
Ceases the flow, or bright or burning—
"What have you done with the hours?" the Voice demands.
What can I say of eager or careless hands?—
I had forgotten the hours in watching the sliding sands.