The king of beasts was dead-- By an old hero slain; Did dreams of honey for his bread Dance through the hero"s brain?
Or did he chafe at this: That pain is everywhere?
Down, down, thou fabled right to bliss, Life is to do and bear!
Beguiled, enslaved, made blind, Yet unsubdued in will, He kept the old heroic mind To serve his country still.
And in recovered might Pulled the tall pillars down, Died _with_ his foes--_that was his right_-- And built his great renown.
For His Foes
Devotion all supreme Throbs in the mighty psalm Of One who filled our highest dream And poured His healing balm;
Who worlds inherited And yet renounced them all; Who had not where to lay His head And drank the cup of gall;
Who emptied of His power Became the foremost man-- Calm at the great prophetic hour Through which G.o.d"s purpose ran;
Who in the darkest fight Imagination knows, Saluted Thee, Eternal Light, And died as _for_ His foes.
The Master
The Master many a day In pain and darkness wrought: Through death to life He held His way, All lands the glory caught.
And He unlocked the gain Shut up in grievous loss, And made the stairs to heaven as plain As His uplifted cross--
The stairs of pain and woe In all the work on earth, Up which the patient toilers go To their eternal birth.
O Master, Master mine, I read the legend now, _To work and suffer is divine_, All radiant on Thy brow.
Life in Death
Strong children of decay, Ye live by perishing: To-morrow thrives on dead to-day, And joy on suffering.
The labor of your hearts, Like that of brain and hands, Shall be for gain in other marts, For bread in other lands.
And will ye now despond Amid consuming toil, When there is hope and joy beyond Which death can not despoil?
Herein all comfort is: _In usefulness and zeal, The Lord announces who are His And gives eternal weal_.
Sacrifice
Through stern and ruthless years Beyond the ken of man, All filled with ruin, pain, and tears, Has G.o.d worked out His plan.
Change on the heels of change, Like blood-hounds in the chase, Has swept the earth in tireless range, Spangled with heavenly grace.
At last the mystery Of the great Cross of Christ, Red with a world-wide agony, The G.o.d-Man sacrificed;
And from the Sacrifice The seven great notes of Peace, Which pierce the clouds beneath all skies Till pain and sorrow cease.
The Mind of Christ
Into the surging world, Upon thy lips His word, And in thy hand His flag unfurled, Go, soldier of the Lord;
Like Him who came from far To toil for our release, And framed the startling notes of war Out of the psalm of peace.
And all the recompense Which thou wilt ever need, Shall kindle in the throbbing sense Of this life-laden creed:
_Grace has for him sufficed Who has St. Michael"s heart, The fullness of the mind of Christ, To do a hero"s part_.
Sympathy.
The Master we revere, Who bled on Calvary, To fill us with heroic cheer, Abides eternally.
From His ascended heights Above the pain and ruth, To all His servants He delights To come in grace and truth.
His presence is so dear, His face so brave and fair, That all our heavy burdens here He somehow seems to share.
Copartner in our work, He every pain beguiles; How can the fear of failure lurk In that on which He smiles!
Love for Love.