Poems

Fair are the flowers and the children, but their subtle suggestion is fairer; Rare is the rose-burst of dawn, but the secret that clasps it is rarer; Sweet the exultance of song, but the strain that precedes it is sweeter; And never was poem yet writ, but the meaning outmastered the metre. Never a daisy that grows, but a mystery guideth the growing; Never a river that flows, but a majesty sceptres the flowing; Never a Shakespeare that soared, but a stronger than he did enfold him; Nor ever a prophet foretells, but a mightier seer hath foretold him.

There were seven Ushers, with nets in their hands, And they walked and talked by the seaside sands; Yet, sweet as the sweet dew-fall, The words they spake, though they spake so low, Across the long dim centuries flow, And we know them, one and all,— Ay! we know and love them all. The livelong night, till the moon went out In the drowning waters, they beat about,— Beat slow, through the fog, their way; And the sails drooped down with wringing wet, And no man drew but an empty net; And now 't was the break of the day,— The great, glad break of the day.

Golden foretaste, Ripening weather! Fruits and sunshine Come together.

I shall awake! however dread The shadows of the coming night; Uprising from my dreamless bed, I shall again behold the light! I shall awake! not of the earth, Whose ways with erring feet I 've trod; But fashioned by a glorious birth Into the image of my God! I shall awake! no more to crave With constant longing, still denied; The good I covet I shall have; With Christ I shall be satisfied.

True love in this differs from gold and clay, That to divide is not to take away. Love Is like understanding, that grows bright, Gazing on many truths.

" How shall I a habit break?" As you did that habit make. As you gathered you must lose; As you yielded, now refuse.

' Neath Sol's fierce rays, Barbaric brays Rouse patriotic blood; But holier still The conscience-thrill, Braving the deeper flood.

Oh tell me, man of sacred lore, Where dwells the Being you adore? And where, oh man of thought profound, Where can the Eternal One be found? Throughout the realms of boundless space We seek in vain His dwelling-place. He dwells where'er the beams of light Have pierced the primal gloom of night; Beyond the planet's feeble ray, Beyond the comet's devious way; Where'er, amid the realms afar, Shines light of sun or twinkling star.

Breaking through the clouds of darkness, Black with error, doubt and fear; Lighting up each sombre shadow, With a radiance soft and clear; Filling every heart with gladness, That its holy power feels, Comes the Christian Science Gospel; Sin it kills and grief it heals. Christlike in its benedictions, Godlike in its strength sublime, Conquering every subtle slander, With a meekness all divine,— May it go across the ocean, And be known in every land, Till our sisters and our brothers, All united in one band, Raise to Heaven their glad hosanas, For a world from sin set free; And to God, the Heavenly Father, Then subdued will all things be.

If in the light of Life above, There is no night to shut out love, Then June is nearest Heaven's ray, With shortest night and longest day.