Poems of Passion Part 10

For the body loves, as he loved in the past, When he wedded the soul; and he holds her fast, And swears that he will not loose her; That he will keep her and hide her away For ever and ever and for a day From the arms of Death, the seducer.

Ah! this is the strife that is wearying me-- The strife 'twixt a soul that would be free And a body that will not let her.

And I say to my soul, "Be calm, and wait; For I tell ye truly that soon or late Ye surely shall drop each fetter."

And I say to the body, "Be kind, I pray; For the soul is not of thy mortal clay, But is formed in spirit fas.h.i.+on."

And still through the hours of the solemn night I can hear my sad soul's plea for flight, And my body's reply of pa.s.sion.

[Ill.u.s.tration:]

[Ill.u.s.tration: DAY DREAMS]

RESPONSE.

I said this morning, as I leaned and threw My shutters open to the Spring's surprise, "Tell me, O Earth, how is it that in you Year after year the same fresh feelings rise?

How do you keep your young exultant glee?

No more those sweet emotions come to me.

"I note through all your fissures how the tide Of healthful life goes leaping as of old; Your royal dawns retain their pomp and pride; Your sunsets lose no atom of their gold.

How can this wonder be?" My soul's fine ear Leaned, listening, till a small voice answered near:

"My days lapse never over into night; My nights encroach not on the rights of dawn.

I rush not breathless after some delight; I waste no grief for any pleasure gone.

My July noons burn not the entire year.

Heart, hearken well!" "Yes, yes; go on; I hear."

"I do not strive to make my sunsets' gold Pave all the dim and distant realms of s.p.a.ce.

I do not bid my crimson dawns unfold To lend the midnight a fict.i.tious grace.

I break no law, for all G.o.d's laws are good.

Heart, hast thou heard?" "Yes, yes; and understood."

DROUTH.

Why do we pity those who weep? The pain That finds a ready outlet in the flow Of salt and bitter tears is blessed woe, And does not need our sympathies. The rain But fits the shorn field for new yield of grain; While the red, brazen skies, the sun's fierce glow, The dry, hot winds that from the tropics blow Do parch and wither the unsheltered plain.

The anguish that through long, remorseless years Looks out upon the world with no relief Of sudden tempests or slow-dripping tears-- The still, unuttered, silent, wordless grief That evermore doth ache, and ache, and ache-- This is the sorrow wherewith hearts do break.

THE CREED.

Whoever was begotten by pure love, And came desired and welcome into life, Is of immaculate conception. He Whose heart is full of tenderness and truth, Who loves mankind more than he loves himself, And cannot find room in his heart for hate, May be another Christ. We all may be The Saviours of the world if we believe In the Divinity which dwells in us And wors.h.i.+p it, and nail our grosser selves, Our tempers, greeds, and our unworthy aims, Upon the cross. Who giveth love to all; Pays kindness for unkindness, smiles for frowns; And lends new courage to each fainting heart, And strengthens hope and scatters joy abroad-- He, too, is a Redeemer, Son of G.o.d.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "CAME DESIRED AND WELCOMED INTO LIFE"]

PROGRESS.

Let there be many windows to your soul, That all the glory of the universe May beautify it. Not the narrow pane Of one poor creed can catch the radiant rays That s.h.i.+ne from countless sources. Tear away The blinds of superst.i.tion; let the light Pour through fair windows broad as Truth itself And high as G.o.d.

Why should the spirit peer Through some priest-curtained orifice, and grope Along dim corridors of doubt, when all The splendor from unfathomed seas of s.p.a.ce Might bathe it with the golden waves of Love?

Sweep up the debris of decaying faiths; Sweep down the cobwebs of worn-out beliefs, And throw your soul wide open to the light Of Reason and of Knowledge. Tune your ear To all the wordless music of the stars And to the voice of Nature, and your heart Shall turn to truth and goodness as the plant Turns to the sun. A thousand unseen hands Reach down to help you to their peace-crowned heights.

And all the forces of the firmament Shall fortify your strength. Be not afraid To thrust aside half-truths and grasp the whole.

MY FRIEND.

When first I looked upon the face of Pain I shrank repelled, as one shrinks from a foe Who stands with dagger poised, as for a blow.

I was in search of Pleasure and of Gain; I turned aside to let him pa.s.s: in vain; He looked straight in my eyes and would not go.

"Shake hands," he said; "our paths are one, and so We must be comrades on the way, 'tis plain."

I felt the firm clasp of his hand on mine; Through all my veins it sent a strengthening glow.

I straightway linked my arm in his, and lo!

He led me forth to joys almost divine; With G.o.d's great truths enriched me in the end: And now I hold him as my dearest friend.

[Ill.u.s.tration:]

CREATION.

The impulse of all love is to create.

G.o.d was so full of love, in his embrace He clasped the empty nothingness of s.p.a.ce, And low! the solar system! High in state The mighty sun sat, so supreme and great With this same essence, one smile of its face Brought myriad forms of life forth; race on race, From insects up to men.

Through love, not hate, All that is grand in nature or in art Sprang into being. He who would build sublime And lasting works, to stand the test of time, Must inspiration draw from his full heart.

And he who loveth widely, well, and much, The secret holds of the true master touch.

[Ill.u.s.tration:]

RED CARNATIONS.

One time in Arcadie's fair bowers There met a bright immortal band, To choose their emblems from the flowers That made an Eden of that land.

Sweet Constancy, with eyes of hope, Strayed down the garden path alone And gathered sprays of heliotrope, To place in cl.u.s.ters at her zone.

True Friends.h.i.+p plucked the ivy green, Forever fresh, forever fair.