Poems of Optimism Part 7

A DIALOGUE

HE

Let us be friends. My life is sad and lonely, While yours with love is beautiful and bright.

Be kind to me: I ask your friends.h.i.+p only.

No Star is robbed by lending darkness light.

SHE

I give you friends.h.i.+p as I understand it, A sentiment I feel for all mankind.

HE

Oh, give me more; may not one friend command it?

SHE

Look in the skies, 'tis there the star you'll find; It casts its beams on all with equal favour.

HE

I would have more than what all men may claim.

SHE

Then your ideas of friends.h.i.+p strongly savour Of sentiments which wear another name.

HE

May not one friend receive more than another?

SHE

Not man from woman and still remain a friend.

Life holds but three for her, a father, brother, Lover--against the rest she must contend.

HE

Against the universe I would protect you, With my life even, nor hold the price too dear.

SHE

But not against YOURSELF, should fate select you As Lancelot for foolish Guinevere.

HE

You would not tempt me?

SHE

That is undisputed.

We put the question back upon the shelf.

My point remains unanswered, unrefuted No man protects a woman from himself.

HE

I am immune: for once I loved with pa.s.sion, And all the fires within me burned to dust.

I think of woman but in friendly fas.h.i.+on: In me she finds a comrade safe to trust.

SHE

So said Mount Peelee to the listening ocean: Behold what followed! Let the good be wise.

Though human hearts proclaim extinct emotion, Beware how high the tides of friends.h.i.+p rise.

A WISH

Great dignity ever attends great grief, And silently walks beside it; And I always know when I see such woe That Invisible Helpers guide it.

And I know deep sorrow is like a tide, It cannot ever be flowing; The high-water mark in the night and the dark - Then dawn, and the outward going.

But the people who pull at my heart-strings hard Are the ones whom destiny hurries Through commonplace ways to the end of their days, And pesters with paltry worries.

The peddlers who trudge with a budget of wares To the door that is slammed unkindly; The vendor who stands with his shop in his hands Where the hastening hosts pa.s.s blindly;

The woman who holds in her poor flat purse The price of her rent-room only, While her starved eye feeds on the comfort she needs To brighten the lot that is lonely; The man in the desert of endless work, Unsoftened by islands of leisure; And the children who toil in the dust and the soil, While their little hearts cry for pleasure;

The people who labour, and scrimp, and save, At the call of some thankless duty, And carefully hide, with a mien of pride, Their ravening hunger for beauty; These ask no pity, and seek no aid, But the thought of them somehow is haunting; And I wish I might fling at their feet everything That I know in their hearts they are wanting.

JUSTICE

However inexplicable may seem Event and circ.u.mstance upon the earth, Though favours fall on those who none esteem, And insult and indifference greet worth, Though poverty repays a life of toil, And riches spring where idle feet have trod, And storms lay waste the patiently tilled soil - Yet Justice sways the universe of G.o.d.

As undisturbed the stately stars remain Beyond the glare of day's obscuring light, So Justice dwells, though mortal eyes in vain Seek it persistently by reason's sight.

But, when once freed, the illumined soul looks out - Its cry will be, 'O G.o.d, how could I doubt?'

AN OLD SONG