This is my task: amid discordant strife To keep a clean sweet centre in my life; And though the human orchestra may be Playing all out of key - To tune my soul to symphonies above, And sound the note of love.
This is my task.
When by the minds of men most beauteous Faith Seems doomed to death, And to her place is hoisted, by soul treason, The dullard Reason, Let me not hurry forth with flag unfurled To proselyte an unbelieving world.
This is my task: in depths of unstarred night Or in diverting and distracting light To keep (in crowds, or in my room alone) Faith on her lofty throne; And whatsoever happen or befall, To see G.o.d"s hand in all.
This is my task.
When, in church pews, men worship G.o.d in words, But meet their kind with swords, When Fair Religion, stripped of holy pa.s.sion, Walks masked as Fashion, Let me not wax indignant at the sight; Or waste my strength bewailing her sad plight.
This is my task: to search in my own mind Until the qualities of G.o.d I find; To seek them in the hearts of friend and foe - Or high or low; And in my hours of toil, or prayer, or play, To live my creed each day.
This is my task.
THE STATUE
A granite rock in the mountain side Gazed on the world and was satisfied.
It watched the centuries come and go, It welcomed the sunlight yet loved the snow, It grieved when the forest was forced to fall, Yet joyed when steeples rose white and tall In the valley below it, and thrilled to hear The voice of the great town roaring near.
When the mountain stream from its idle play Was caught by the mill-wheel and borne away And trained to labour, the gray rock mused, "Tree and verdure and stream are used By man the master, but I remain Friend of the mountain and star and plain, Unchanged forever by G.o.d"s decree While pa.s.sing centuries bow to me."
Then all unwarned, with a mighty shock Out of the mountain was wrenched the rock; Bruised and battered, and broken in heart It was carried away to the common mart.
Wrenched, and ruined in peace and pride, "Oh, G.o.d is cruel," the granite cried, "Comrade of mountain, of star the friend, By all deserted--how sad my end."
A dreaming sculptor in pa.s.sing by Gazed on the granite with thoughtful eye; Then stirred with a purpose supremely grand He bade his dream in the rock expand.
And lo! from the broken and shapeless ma.s.s That grieved and doubted, it came to pa.s.s That a glorious statue of priceless worth And infinite beauty adorned the earth.
BEHOLD THE EARTH
Behold the earth swung in among the stars Fit home for G.o.ds if men were only kind - Do thou thy part to shape it to those ends, By shaping thine own life to perfectness.
Seek nothing for thyself or thine own kin That robs another of one hope or joy, Let no man toil in poverty and pain To give thee unearned luxury and ease.
Feed not the hungry servitor with stones, That idle guests may fatten on thy bread.
Look for the good in stranger and in foe, Nor save thy praises for the cherished few; And let the weakest sinner find in thee An impetus to reach receding heights.
Behold the earth swung in among the stars - Fit home for G.o.ds; wake thou the G.o.d within And by the broad example of thy love Communicate Omnipotence to men.
All men are unawakened G.o.ds: be thine The voice to rouse them from unhappy sleep
WHAT THEY SAW
Sad man, Sad man, tell me, pray, What did you see to-day?
I saw the unloved and unhappy old, waiting for slow delinquent death to come.
Pale little children toiling for the rich, in rooms where sunlight is ashamed to go.
The awful alms-house, where the living dead rot slowly in their hideous open graves.
And there were shameful things; Soldiers and forts, and industries of death, and devil ships, and loud-winged devil birds, All bent on slaughter and destruction. These and yet more shameful things mine eyes beheld.
Old men upon lascivious conquest bent, and young men living with no thought of G.o.d; And half clothed women puffing at a weed, aping the vices of the underworld - Engrossed in shallow pleasures and intent on being barren wives.
These things I saw.
(How G.o.d must loathe His earth.)
Glad man, Glad man, tell me, pray, What did you see to-day?
I saw an aged couple, in whose eyes Shone that deep light of mingled love and faith Which makes the earth one room of Paradise, And leaves no sting in death.
I saw fair regiments of children pour, Rank after rank, out of the schoolroom door By Progress mobilised. They seemed to say "Let ignorance make way; We are the heralds of a better day."
I saw the college and the church that stood For all things sane and good.
I saw G.o.d"s helpers in the shop and slum Blazing a path for health and hope to come; And men and women of large soul and mind Absorbed in toil for bettering their kind.
Then, too, I saw life"s sweetest sight and best - Pure mothers with dear babies at the breast, These things I saw.
(How G.o.d must love His earth.)
HIS LAST LETTER
Well, you are free; The longed for, lied for, waited for decree Is yours to-day.
I made no protest; and you had your say, And left me with no vestige of repute.
Neglect, abuse, and cruelty you charge With broken marriage vows. The list is large But not to be denied. So I was mute.
Now you shall listen to a few plain facts Before you go out wholly from my life As some man"s wife.
Read carefully this statement of your acts Which changed the l.u.s.tre of my honeymoon To sombre gloom, And wrenched the cover from Pandora"s box.
In those first talks "Twixt bride and groom I showed you my whole heart, Showed you how deep my love was and how true; With all a strong man"s feeling I loved YOU: (G.o.d, how I loved you, my one chosen mate.) But I learned this (So poorly did you play your little part): You married marriage, to avoid the fate Of having "Miss"
Carved on your tombstone. Love you did not know, But you were greedy for the showy things That money brings.
Such weak affection as you could bestow Was given the provider, not the lover.
The knowledge hurt. Keen pain like that is dumb; And masks itself in smiles, lest men discover.
But I was lonely; and the feeling grew The more I studied you.
Into your shallow heart love could not come, But yet you loved my love; because it gave The prowess of a mistress o"er a slave.
You showed your power In petty tyranny hour after hour, Day after day, year after lengthening years.
My tasks, my pleasures, my pursuits were not Held near or dear, Or made to seem important in your thought.
My friends were not your friends; you goaded me By foolish and ign.o.ble jealousy, Till, through suggestion"s laws I gave you cause.
The beauteous ideal Love had hung In my soul"s shrine, And worshipped as a something all divine, With wanton hand you flung Into the dust. And then you wondered why My love should die.
My sins and derelictions cry aloud To all the world: my head is bowed Under its merited reproaches. Yours Is lifted to receive The sympathy the court"s decree insures.
The world loves to believe In man"s depravity and woman"s worth; But I am one of many men on earth Whose loud resounding fall Is like the crashing of some well-built wall Which those who seek can trace To the slow work of insects at its base.
Be not afraid.
The alimony will be promptly paid