The New Morning Part 10

THE LOST BATTLE

It is not over yet-the fight Where those immortal dreamers failed.

They stormed the citadels of night And the night praised them--and prevailed.

So long ago the cause was lost We scarce distinguish friend from foe; But--if the dead can help it most-- The armies of the dead will grow.

The world has all our banners now, And filched our watchwords for its own.

The world has crowned the "rebel's" brow And millions crowd his lordly throne.

The masks have altered. Names are names; They praise the "truth" that is not true.

The "rebel" that the world acclaims Is not the rebel Sh.e.l.ley knew.

We may not build that Commonweal.

We may not reach the goal we set.

But there's a flag they dare not steal.

Forward! It is not over yet.

We shall be dust and under dust Before we end that ancient wrong; But here's a sword that cannot rust, And where's the death can touch a song?

So, when our bodies rot in earth The singing souls that once were ours, Weaponed with light and helmed with mirth, Shall front the kingdoms and the powers.

The ancient lie is on its throne, And half the living still forget; But, since the dead are all our own, Courage, it is not over yet.

RIDDLES OF MERLIN

As I was walking Alone by the sea, "_What is that whisper?_"

Said Merlin to me.

"Only," I answered, "The sigh of the wave"-- "_Oh, no_," replied Merlin, "_'Tis the gra.s.s on your grave_."

As I lay dreaming In churchyard ground "_Listen_," said Merlin, "_What is that sound_?"

"The green gra.s.s is growing,"

I answered; but he Chuckled, "_Oh, no!

'Tis the sound of the sea_."

As I went homeward At dusk by the sh.o.r.e, "_What is that crimson?_"

Said Merlin once more.

"Only the sun," I said.

"Sinking to rest"-- "_Sunset for East_," he said, "_Sunrise for West_."

THE SYMPHONY

Wonder in happy eyes Fades, fades away: And the angel-coloured skies Whisper farewell.

Loveliness over the strings of the heart may stray In fugitive melodies; But Oh, the hand of the Master must not stay, Even for a breath;

For to prolong one joy, or even to dwell On one rich chord of pain, Beyond the pulse of the song, would untune heaven And drown the stars in death.

So youth with its love-note dies; And beauty fades in the air, To make the master-symphony immortal, And find new life and deeper wonder there.

PEACE

Give me the pulse of the tide again And the slow lapse of the leaves, The rustling gold of a field of grain And a bird in the nested eaves;

And a fis.h.i.+ng-smack in the old harbour Where all was happy and young; And an echo or two of the songs I knew When songs could still be sung.

For I would empty my heart of all This world's implacable roar, And I would turn to my home, and fall Asleep in my home once more;

And I would forget what the cities say, And the folly of all the wise, And turn to my own true folk this day, And the love in their constant eyes.

There is peace, peace, where the sea-birds wheel, And peace in the breaking wave; And I have a broken heart to heal, And a broken soul to save.

THE OPEN DOOR

O Mystery of life, That, after all our strife, Defeats, mistakes, Just as, at last, we see The road to victory, The tired heart breaks.

Just as the long years give Knowledge of how to live, Life's end draws near; As if, that gift being ours, G.o.d needed our new powers In worlds elsewhere.

There, if the soul whose wings Were won in suffering, springs To life anew, Justice would have some room For hope beyond the tomb, And mercy, too.

And since, without this dream No light, no faintest gleam Answers our "why"; But earth and all its race Must pa.s.s and leave no trace On that blind sky;

Shall reason close that door On all we struggled for, Seal the soul's doom; Make of this universe One wild answering curse, One lampless tomb?

Mine be the dream, the creed That leaves for G.o.d, indeed, For G.o.d, and man, One open door whereby To prove His world no lie And crown His plan.

IMMORTAL SAILS

Now, in a breath, we'll burst those gates of gold, And ransack heaven before our moment fails.

Now, in a breath, before we, too, grow old, We'll mount and sing and spread immortal sails.

It is not time that makes eternity.

Love and an hour may quite out-run the years, And give us more to hear and more to see Than life can wash away with all its tears.