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To do good to another Is thy self to well serve; And to succor thy brother For thyself is fresh nerve And new strength for the battle, In the dash and the rattle, When thy foes press thee hard, And thy all thou must guard.
Lx.x.xIV.
Canst show a finer touch, A grain of purer lore-- "I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honor more?"
Lx.x.xV.
Frittered away, Grace to begin Duty to-day-- Wages of sin!
Truth out of sight, Falsehood crept in, Wrong put for right-- Wages of sin.
Self become G.o.d, Eager to win All at its nod-- Wages of sin.
Scorn of the seer, Vanity's grin, Darkness grown dear-- Wages of sin.
Trouble without, Canker within, Fear, hate, and doubt-- Wages of sin.
What is to be, All that has been, Shadows that flee-- Wages of sin.
Loss of the soul, Wrangle and din, Tragedy's dole-- Wages of sin.
Warning enough!
(Mortals are kin) Ragged and rough Wages of sin!
Lx.x.xVI.
Words great to express Him, Revealer And Healer, By these ye confess Him.
Enough, this beginning?
Before ye The glory Known only in winning.
In deed-bearing Duty Behold Him, Enfold Him, The King in his Beauty; Until ye discover How meetly, How sweetly He rules as a Lover!
And then will confession, O new men, Now true men, Be one with possession.
Lx.x.xVII.
O wouldst thou know The rarity Of Charity?
Thyself forego!
Then will the field, To G.o.d inviting, To man requiting, Sweet harvest yield.
Lx.x.xVIII.
In consecration To single-hearted toil Is animation, Yea, life's true wine and oil; And that vocation Which heart and mind secures Hath consolation That verily endures.
Lx.x.xIX.
To fast and pray The live-long day Is preparation-- O doubt it not!
For some high lot, But in thy deed, Not in thy creed, Is consummation.
XC.
It is the cheerful heart That finds the key of gold, The bravely-acted part Which gets the grip and hold.
And opens wide the door Where treasures are unrolled Thine eager eyes before.
Then life is evermore A strife for wealth untold.
G.o.d keep thee true and bold!
XCI.
Sometimes our failures here Are G.o.d's successes; And things that seemed so drear His sweet caresses.
It is our Father's hand That gives our wages, Before us many a land And all the ages.
And shall we forfeit hope Because the fountains Are up the mighty slope Of yonder mountains?
XCII.
The storm is raging.
The sun is s.h.i.+ning, And both presaging Some true refining; Through them are pa.s.sing The hosts forever, All wealth ama.s.sing Through brave endeavor.
XCIII.
O trees, rejoicing trees, Along my path to-day I hear your quiet melodies, And care all charmed away, I catch your mood, Dear forest brotherhood.
O trees, rejoicing trees, Arrayed in springtide dress, How full ye are of prophecies Of everlastingness!
I find a balm In your rejoicing psalm.
O trees, rejoicing trees, In living green so grand, Like saints with grateful memories, Ye bless the Father's hand; Which stripped you bare To make you now so fair.
O trees, rejoicing trees, Who have another birth, Through you my bounding spirit sees The day beyond the earth, Eternity So calm, so fair, so free.
O trees, rejoicing trees, Dear children of the Lord, I thank you for the ministries Which ye to me accord; New life and light Burst from my wintry night!
O friend, rejoicing friend, A better poem thou To hint the joys that have no end Through gladness here and now.
Be thou to me Perpetual prophecy!
XCIV.
