Custer, and Other Poems Part 7

This were my wis.h.!.+ from my life's dim beginning _Let be what has been!_ wisdom planned the whole; My want, my woe, my errors, and my sinning, All, all were needed lessons for my soul.

=Three Friends=

Of all the blessings which my life has known, I value most, and most praise G.o.d for three: Want, Loneliness and Pain, those comrades true,

Who, masqueraded in the garb of foes For many a year, and filled my heart with dread.

Yet fickle joys, like false, pretentious friends, Have proved less worthy than this trio. First,

Want taught me labor, led me up the steep And toilsome paths to hills of pure delight, Trod only by the feet that know fatigue, And yet press on until the heights appear.

Then loneliness and hunger of the heart Sent me upreaching to the realms of s.p.a.ce, Till all the silences grew eloquent, And all their loving forces hailed me friend.

Last, pain taught prayer! placed in my hand the staff Of close communion with the over-soul, That I might lean upon it till the end, And find myself made strong for any strife.

And then these three who had pursued my steps Like stern, relentless foes, year after year, Unmasked, and turned their faces full on me, And lo! they were divinely beautiful, For through them shone the l.u.s.trous eyes of Love.

=You Never Can Tell=

You never can tell when you send a word, Like an arrow shot from a bow By an archer blind, be it cruel or kind, Just where it may chance to go.

It may pierce the breast of your dearest friend.

Tipped with its poison or balm, To a stranger's heart in life's great mart, It may carry its pain or its calm.

You never can tell when you do an act Just what the result will be; But with every deed you are sowing a seed, Though the harvest you may not see.

Each kindly act is an acorn dropped In G.o.d's productive soil You may not know, but the tree shall grow, With shelter for those who toil.

You never can tell what your thoughts will do, In bringing you hate or love; For thoughts are things, and their airy wings Are swifter than carrier doves.

They follow the law of the universe-- Each thing must create its kind, And they speed o'er the track to bring you back _Whatever went out from your mind_.

=Here And Now=

Here, in the heart of the world, Here, in the noise and the din, Here, where our spirits were hurled To battle with sorrow and sin, This is the place and the spot For knowledge of infinite things; This is the kingdom where Thought Can conquer the prowess of kings.

Wait for no heavenly life, Seek for no temple alone; Here, in the midst of the strife, Know what the sages have known.

See what the Perfect Ones saw-- G.o.d in the depth of each soul, G.o.d as the light and the law, G.o.d as beginning and goal.

Earth is one chamber of Heaven, Death is no grander than birth.

Joy in the life that was given, Strive for perfection on earth.

Here, in the turmoil and roar, Show what it is to be calm; Show how the spirit can soar And bring back its healing and balm.

Stand not aloof nor apart, Plunge in the thick of the fight.

There in the street and the mart, That is the place to do right.

Not in some cloister or cave, Not in some kingdom above, Here, on this side of the grave, Here, should we labor and love.

=Unconquered=

However skilled and strong art thou, my foe, However fierce is thy relentless hate Though firm thy hand, and strong thy aim, and straight Thy poisoned arrow leaves the bended bow, To pierce the target of my heart, ah! know I am the master yet of my own fate.

Thou canst not rob me of my best estate, Though fortune, fame and friends, yea love shall go.

Not to the dust shall my true self be hurled; Nor shall I meet thy worst a.s.saults dismayed.

When all things in the balance are well weighed, There is but one great danger in the world-- _Thou canst not force my soul to wish thee ill_, That is the only evil that can kill.

=All That Love Asks=

"All that I ask," says Love, "is just to stand And gaze, unchided, deep in thy dear eyes; For in their depths lies largest Paradise.

Yet, if perchance one pressure of thy hand Be granted me, then joy I thought complete Were still more sweet."

"All that I ask," says Love, "all that I ask, Is just thy hand clasp. Could I brush thy cheek As zephyrs brush a rose leaf, words are weak To tell the bliss in which my soul would bask.

There is no language but would desecrate A joy so great."

"All that I ask, is just one tender touch Of that soft cheek. Thy pulsing palm in mine, Thy dark eyes lifted in a trust divine And those curled lips that tempt me overmuch Turned where I may not seize the supreme bliss Of one mad kiss.

"All that I ask," says Love, "of life, of death, Or of high heaven itself, is just to stand, Glance melting into glance, hand twined in hand, The while I drink the nectar of thy breath, In one sweet kiss, but one, of all thy store, I ask no more."

"All that I ask"--nay, self-deceiving Love, Reverse thy phrase, so thus the words may fall, In place of "all I ask," say, "I ask all,"

All that pertains to earth or soars above, All that thou wert, art, will be, body, soul, Love asks the whole.

=Does It Pay=

If one poor burdened toiler o'er life's road, Who meets us by the way, Goes on less conscious of his galling load, Then life indeed, does pay.

If we can show one troubled heart the gain, That lies alway in loss, Why then, we too, are paid for all the pain Of bearing life's hard cross.

If some despondent soul to hope is stirred, Some sad lip made to smile, By any act of ours, or any word, Then, life has been worth while.