For, with hands in grasp so small
Of the tumbling ones that follow,—
With her smile upon them all,
Up the hill and through the hollow,—
With that rich voice crooning, waking
Sparkling gusts of joy and laughter,—
Climbs the Light of my forsaking,
Mounts the Hope of my hereafter!
Harshest song, bow down!
Mutinous words!—to make immortal
How the heavens in starlight drown
As she enters in the Portal,
How the Heavenly City glows,
How the bells cry, "We have found her!"
As through tears and praise she goes
With the children crowding round her!
STRENGTH BEYOND STRENGTH
"If thou hast run with the footmen and they have wearied thee, what wilt thou do with the horsemen?"
Breathless, beaten as with whips of wonder,
Scourged and naked to the flying sky,—
Yet have I heard the hoofs of thunder,
Seen the horsemen glimmering by.
Head back, teeth bared, eyes aglitter,
Questioning still the black reply,
Laboring stride and breath grown bitter—
Phantom horsemen swerving by!
Foot on the flint and burning, parching
Death at the throat, with gall to taste.
Rank on rank are the footmen marching,
Wave on wave do the footmen haste!
Past and past me toiled and slowing,
Gasping breathing and straining limb,—
Rank on rank are the footmen going
Forward to fog and the distance dim.
Sledge on the brain and huge hands crushing
Hard on my heart that they wring at will.
Wave on wave are the footmen rushing,
Surging in silence across the hill.
Sudden lit road they run together
Just as the cloven mist-wreaths close!
Each, each strives by a stirrup-leather
Where some glimmering horseman goes!