Unloved, unwanted souls come through earth’s gate:
The unborn child is given a dower of hate.
Thy world progresses in all ways save one.
In Motherhood, for which it was begun,
Lord, Lord, behold how little has been done!
Children are spawned like fishes in the sand.
With ignorance and crime they fill the land.
Lord, speak again, till mothers understand.
It is not all of Motherhood to know
Conception pleasure or deliverance woe.
Who plants the seed should help the shoot to grow.
Better a barren soil than weed and tare,
Or sickly plants that die for want of care
In poisonous jungles, void of sun and air.
True Motherhood is not alone to breed
The human race; it is to know and heed
Its holiest purpose and its highest need.
Lord, speak again, so woman shall be stirred
With the full meaning of that mighty word
True Motherhood. She has not rightly heard.
MY HEAVEN
Unhoused in deserts of accepted thought,
And lost in jungles of confusing creeds,
My soul strayed, homeless, finding its own needs
Unsatisfied with what tradition taught.
The pros and cons, the little ifs and ands,
The but and maybe, and the this and that,
On which the churches thicken and grow fat,
I found but structures built on shifting sands.
And all their heavens were strange and far away,
And all their hells were made of human hate;
And since for death I did not care to wait,
A heaven I fashioned for myself one day.
Of happy thoughts I built it stone by stone,
With joy of life I draped each spacious room,
With love’s great light I drove away all gloom,
And in the centre I made God a throne.
And this dear heaven I set within my heart,
And carried it about with me alway,
And then the changing dogmas of the day
Seemed alien to my thoughts and held no part.
Now as I take my heaven from place to place
I find new rooms by love’s revealing light,
And death will give me but a larger sight
To see my palace spreading into space.
LIFE
On a bleak, bald hill with a dull world under,
The dreary world of the Commonplace,
I have stood when the whole world seemed a blunder
Of dotard Time, in an aimless race.
With worry about me and want before me—
Yet deep in my soul was a rapture spring
That made me cry to the grey sky o’er me:
‘Oh, I know this life is a goodly thing!’
I have given sweet years to a thankless duty
While cold and starving, though clothed and fed,
For a young heart’s hunger for joy and beauty
Is harder to bear than the need of bread.
I have watched the wane of a sodden season,
Which let hope wither, and made care thrive,
And through it all, without earthly reason,
I have thrilled with the glory of being alive.
And now I stand by the great sea’s splendour,
Where love and beauty feed heart and eye.
The brilliant light of the sun grows tender
As it slants to the shore of the by and by.
I prize each hour as a golden treasure—
A pearl Time drops from a broken string:
And all my ways are the ways of pleasure,
And I know this life is a goodly thing.
And I know, too, that not in the seeing,
Or having, or doing the things we would,
Lies that deep rapture that comes from being
_At one with the Purpose which made all good_.
And not from Pleasure the heart may borrow
That rare contentment for which we strive,
Unless through trouble, and want, and sorrow
It has thrilled with the glory of being alive.
GOD’S KIN
There is no summit you may not attain,
No purpose which you may not yet achieve,
If you will wait serenely and believe
Each seeming loss is but a step toward gain.
Between the mountain-tops lie vale and plain;
Let nothing make you question, doubt or grieve;
Give only good, and good alone receive;
And as you welcome joy, so welcome pain.
That which you most desire awaits your word;
Throw wide the door and bid it enter in.
Speak, and the strong vibrations shall be stirred;
Speak, and above earth’s loud, unmeaning din
Your silent declarations shall be heard.
All things are possible to God’s own kin.
CONQUEST
Talk not of strength, until your heart has known
And fought with weakness through long hours alone.
Talk not of virtue, till your conquering soul
Has met temptation and gained full control.
Boast not of garments, all unscorched by sin,
Till you have passed, unscathed, through fires within.
Oh, poor that pride the unscarred soldier shows,
Who safe in camp, has never faced his foes.
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 grey rock mused
‘Trees and verdure and stream are used
By Man the Master; but I remain
Friend of the mountain, and star, and plain,
Unchanged forever by God’s decree,
While passing 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,
Wrecked and ruined in piece and pride.
‘Oh, God is cruel,’ the granite cried,
‘Comrade of mountains, of stars the friend,
By all deserted, how sad my end.’
A dreaming sculptor in passing by
Gazed at 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 mass
That grieved and doubted, it came to pass
That a glorious statue of priceless worth
And infinite beauty, adorned the earth.
SIRIUS
‘_Since Sinus crossed the Milky Way_, _sixty thousand years have
gone_.’—GARRETT P. SERVISS.
Since Sirius crossed the Milky Way
Full sixty thousand years have gone,
Yet hour by hour, and day by day,
This tireless star speeds on and on.
Methinks he must be moved to mirth
By that droll tale of Genesis,
Which says creation had its birth
For such a puny world as this.
To hear how One who fashioned all
Those Solar Systems, tier on tiers,
Expressed in little Adam’s fall
The purpose of a million spheres.
And, witness of the endless plan,
To splendid wrath he must be wrought
By pigmy creeds presumptuous man
Sends forth as God’s primeval thought.
Perchance from half a hundred stars
He hears as many curious things;
From Venus, Jupiter and Mars,
And Saturn with the beauteous rings,
There may be students of the Cause
Who send their revelations out,
And formulate their codes of laws,
With heavens for faith and hells for doubt.
On planets old ere form or place
Was lent to earth, may dwell—who knows—
A God-like and perfected race
That hails great Sirius as he goes.
In zones that circle moon and sun,
’Twixt world and world, he may see souls
Whose span of earthly life is done,
Still journeying up to higher goals.
And on dead planets grey and cold
Grim spectral souls, that harboured hate
Life after life, he may behold
Descending to a darker fate.
And on his grand majestic course
He may have caught one glorious sight
Of that vast shining central Source
From which proceeds all Life, all Light.
Since Sirius crossed the Milky Way
Full sixty thousand years have gone,
No mortal man may bid him stay,
No mortal man may speed him on.
No mortal mind may comprehend
What is beyond, what was before;
To God be glory without end,
Let man be humble and adore.
AT FONTAINEBLEAU
At Fontainebleau, I saw a little bed
Fashioned of polished wood, with gold ornate,
Ambition, hope, and sorrow, ay, and hate
Once battled there, above a childish head,
And there in vain, grief wept, and memory plead
It was so small! but Ah, dear God, how great
The part it played in one sad woman’s fate.
How wide the gloom, that narrow object shed.
The symbol of an over-reaching aim,
The emblem of a devastated joy,
It spoke of glory, and a blasted home:
Of fleeting honours, and disordered fame,
And the lone passing of a fragile boy.
* * * * *
It was the cradle of the King of Rome.
THE MASQUERADE
Look in the eyes of trouble with a smile,
Extend your hand and do not be afraid.
’Tis but a friend who comes to masquerade.
And test your faith and courage for awhile.
Fly, and he follows fast with threat and jeer.
Shrink, and he deals hard blow on stinging blow,
But bid him welcome as a friend, and lo!
The jest is off—the masque will disappear.
SYMPATHY
Is the way hard and thorny, oh, my brother?
Do tempests beat, and adverse wild winds blow?
And are you spent, and broken, at each nightfall,
Yet with each morn you rise and onward go?
Brother, I know, I know!
I, too, have journeyed so.
Is your heart mad with longing, oh, my sister?
Are all great passions in your breast aglow?
Does the white wonder of your own soul blind you,
And are you torn with rapture and with woe?
Sister, I know, I know!
I, too, have suffered so.
Is the road filled with snare and quicksand, pilgrim?
Do pitfalls lie where roses seem to grow?
And have you sometimes stumbled in the darkness,
And are you bruised and scarred by many a blow?
Pilgrim, I know, I know!
I, too, have stumbled so.
Do you send out rebellious cry and question,
As mocking hours pass silently and slow,
Does your insistent ‘wherefore’ bring no answer,
While stars wax pale with watching, and droop low?
I, too, have questioned so,
But now _I know_, _I know_!
To toil, to strive, to err, to cry, to grow,
_To love through_ all—this is the way to _know_.
INTERMEDIARY
When from the prison of its body free,
My soul shall soar, before it goes to Thee,
Thou great Creator, give it power to know
The language of all sad, dumb things below.
And let me dwell a season still on earth
Before I rise to some diviner birth:
Invisible to men, yet seen and heard,
And understood by sorrowing beast and bird—
Invisible to men, yet always near,
To whisper counsel in the human ear:
And with a spell to stay the hunter’s hand
And stir his heart to know and understand;
To plant within the dull or thoughtless mind
The great religious impulse to be kind.
Before I prune my spirit wings and rise
To seek my loved ones in their paradise,
Yea! even before I hasten on to see
That lost child’s face, so like a dream to me,
I would be given this intermediate role,
And carry comfort to each poor, dumb soul:
And bridge man’s gulf of cruelty and sin
By understanding of his lower kin.
’Twixt weary driver and the straining steed
On wings of mercy would my spirit speed.
And each should know, before his journey’s end,
That in the other dwelt a loving friend.
From zoo and jungle, and from cage and stall,
I would translate each inarticulate call,
Each pleading look, each frenzied act and cry,
And tell the story to each passer-by;
And of a spirit’s privilege possessed,
Pursue indifference to its couch of rest,
And whisper in its ear until in awe
It woke and knew God’s all-embracing law
Of Universal Life—the One in All.
* * * * *
Lord, let this mission to my lot befall.
LIFE’S CAR
‘Hurry up!’
No lingering by old doors of doubt—
No loitering by the way,
No waiting a To-morrow car,
When you can board To-day.
Success is somewhere down the track;
Before the chance is gone
Accelerate your laggard pace,
Swing on, I say, swing on—
Hurry up!
‘Step lively!’
Belated souls are following fast,
They shout and signal, ‘Wait.’
Conductor Time brooks no delay,
He rings the bell of Fate.
But you can give the man behind,
With one hand on the bar,
A final chance to brook defeat,
And board the moving car.
Step lively!
‘Move up!’
Make way for others as you sit
Or stand. This crowded earth
Has room for every journeying soul
En route to higher birth.
Ay, room and comfort, if no one
Took double share or space,
Nor let his greed and selfishness
Absorb another’s place.
Move up!
‘Hold fast!’
The jolting switch of obstacles
With jarring rails is near.
Stand firm of foot, be strong of grip,
Brace well and have no fear.
The Maker of the Car of Life
Foresaw that curve—Despair,
And hung the straps of faith, and hope
So you might grasp them there.
Hold fast!
OPPORTUNITY
Send forth your heart’s desire, and work and wait;
The opportunities of life are brought
To our own doors, not by capricious fate,
But by the strong compelling force of thought.
THE AGE OF MOTORED THINGS
The wonderful age of the world I sing—
The age of battery, coil and spring,
Of steam, and storage, and motored thing.
Though faith may slumber and art seem dead,
And all that is spoken has once been said,
And all that is written were best unread;
Though hearts are iron and thoughts are steel,
And all that has value is mercantile,
Yet marvellous truths shall the age reveal.
Ay, greater the marvels this age shall find
Than all the centuries left behind,
When faith was a bigot and art was blind.
Oh, sorry the search of the world for gods,
Through faith that slaughters and art that lauds,
While reason sits on its throne and nods.
But out of the leisure that men will know,
When the cruel things of the sad earth go,
A Faith that is Knowledge shall rise and grow.
In the throb and whir of each new machine
Thinner is growing the veil between
The visible earth and the worlds unseen.
The True Religion shall leisure bring;
And Art shall awaken and Love shall sing:
Oh, ho! for the age of the motored thing!
NEW YEAR
MORTAL:
‘The night is cold, the hour is late, the world is bleak and drear;
Who is it knocking at my door?’
THE NEW YEAR:
‘I am Good Cheer.’
MORTAL:
‘Your voice is strange; I know you not; in shadows dark I grope.
What seek you here?’
THE NEW YEAR:
‘Friend, let me in; my name is Hope.’
MORTAL:
‘And mine is Failure; you but mock the life you seek to bless.
Pass on.’
THE NEW YEAR:
‘Nay, open wide the door; I am Success.’
MORTAL:
‘But I am ill and spent with pain; too late has come your wealth.
I cannot use it.’
THE NEW YEAR:
‘Listen, friend; I am Good Health.’
MORTAL:
‘Now, wide I fling my door. Come in, and your fair statements
prove.’
THE NEW YEAR:
‘But you must open, too, your heart, for I am Love.’
DISARMAMENT
We have outgrown the helmet and cuirass,
The spear, the arrow, and the javelin.
These crude inventions of a cruder age,
When men killed men to show their love of God,
And he who slaughtered most was greatest king.
We have outgrown the need of war!
Should men
Unite in this one thought, all war would end.
Disarm the world; and let all Nations meet
Like Men, not monsters, when disputes arise.
When crossed opinions tangle into snarls,
Let Courts untie them, and not armies cut.
When State discussions breed dissensions, let
Union and Arbitration supersede
The hell-created implements of War.
Disarm the world! and bid destructive thought
Slip like a serpent from the mortal mind
Down through the marshes of oblivion. Soon
A race of gods shall rise! Disarm! Disarm!
THE CALL
All wantonly in hours of joy,
I made a song of pain.
Soon Grief drew near, and paused to hear,
And sang the sad refrain,
Again and yet again.
Then recklessly in my despair,
I sang of hope one day.
And Joy turned back upon life’s track,
And smiled, and came my way,
And sat her down to stay.
A LITTLE SONG
Oh, a great world, a fair world, a true world I find it;
A sun that never forgets to rise,
On the darkest night, a star in the skies,
And a God of love behind it.
Oh, a good life, a sweet life, a large life I take it,
Is what He offers to you, and me;
A chance to do, and a chance to be,
Whatever we chose to make it.
Oh, a far way, a high way, a sure way He leads us;
And if the journey at times seems long,
We must trudge ahead, with a trustful song,
And know at the end He needs us.
NEW THOUGHT PASTELS
A DIALOGUE
MORTAL
The world is full of selfishness and greed.
Lord, I would lave its sin.
SPIRIT
Yea, mortal, earth of thy good help has need.
Go cleanse _thyself_ within.
MORTAL
Mine ear is hurt by harsh and evil speech.
I would reform men’s ways.
SPIRIT
There is but one convincing way to teach.
Speak _thou_ but words of praise.
MORTAL
On every hand is wretchedness and grief,
Despondency and fear.
Lord, I would give my fellow men relief.
SPIRIT
Be, then, all hope, all cheer.
MORTAL
Lord, I look outward and grow sick at heart,
Such need of change I see.
SPIRIT
Mortal, look _in_. Do thy allotted part,
And leave the rest to ME.
THE WEED
A weed is but an unloved flower!
Go dig, and prune, and guide, and wait,
Until it learns its high estate,
And glorifies some bower.
A weed is but an unloved flower!
All sin is virtue unevolved,
Release the angel from the clod—
Go love thy brother up to God.
Behold each problem solved.
All sin is virtue unevolved.
STRENGTH
Who is the strong? Not he who puts to test
His sinews with the strong and proves the best;
But he who dwells where weaklings congregate,
And never lets his splendid strength abate.
Who is the good? Not he who walks each day
With moral men along the high, clean way;
But he who jostles gilded sin and shame,
Yet will not sell his honour or his name.
Who is the wise? Not he who from the start
With Wisdom’s followers has taken part;
But he who looks in Folly’s tempting eyes,
And turns away, perceiving her disguise.
Who is serene? Not he who flees his kind,
Some mountain fastness, or some cave to find;
But he who in the city’s noisiest scene,
Keeps calm within—he only is serene.
AFFIRM
Body and mind, and spirit, all combine
To make the Creature, human and divine.
Of this great trinity no part deny.
Affirm, affirm, the Great Eternal I.
Affirm the body, beautiful and whole,
The earth-expression of immortal soul.
Affirm the mind, the messenger of the hour,
To speed between thee and the source of power.
Affirm the spirit, the Eternal I—
Of this great trinity no part deny.
THE CHOSEN
They stood before the Angel at the gate;
The Angel asked: ‘Why should you enter in?’
One said: ‘On earth my place was high and great;’
And one: ‘I warned my fellow-men from sin;’
Another: ‘I was teacher of the faith;
I scorned my life and lived in love with death.’
And one stood silent. ‘Speak!’ the Angel said;
‘What earthly deed has sent you here to-day?’
‘Alas! I did but follow where they led,’
He answered sadly: ‘I had lost my way—
So new the country, and so strange my flight;
I only sought for guidance and for light.’
‘You have no passport?’ ‘None,’ the answer came.
‘I loved the earth, tho’ lowly was my lot.
I strove to keep my record free from blame,
And make a heaven about my humble spot.
A narrow life; I see it now, too late;
So, Angel, drive me from the heavenly gate.’
The Angel swung the portal wide and free,
And took the sorrowing stranger by the hand.
‘Nay, you alone,’ he said, ‘shall come with me,
Of all this waiting and insistent band.
Of what God gave, you built your paradise;
Behold your mansion waiting in the skies.’
THE NAMELESS
Unnumbered gods may unremembered die;
A thousand creeds may perish and pass by;
Yet do I lift mine eyes to ONE on high.
Unnamed be HE from whom creation came;
There is no word whereby to speak His name
But petty men have mouthed it into shame.
I lift mine eyes, and with a river’s force
My love’s full tide goes sweeping on its course
To that supreme and all-embracing Source.
Then back through all those thirsting channels roll
The mighty billows of the Over Soul.
And I am He, the portion and the Whole.
As little streams before the flood-tide flee,
As rivers vanish to become the sea,
The I exists no more, for I AM HE.
THE WORD
Oh, a word is a gem, or a stone, or a song,
Or a flame, or a two-edged sword;
Or a rose in bloom, or a sweet perfume,
Or a drop of gall, is a word.
You may choose your word like a connoisseur,
And polish it up with art,
But the word that sways, and stirs, and stays,
Is the word that comes from the heart.
You may work on your word a thousand weeks,
But it will not glow like one
That all unsought, leaps forth white hot,
When the fountains of feeling run.
You may hammer away on the anvil of thought,
And fashion your word with care,
But unless you are stirred to the depths, that word
Shall die on the empty air.
For the word that comes from the brain alone,
Alone to the brain will speed;
But the word that sways, and stirs, and stays,
Oh! that is the word men heed.
ASSISTANCE
Lean on no mortal, Love, and serve;
(For service is love’s complement)
But it was never God’s intent,
Your spirit from its path should swerve,
To gain another’s point of view.
As well might Jupiter, or Mars
Go seeking help from other stars,
Instead of sweeping ON, as you.
Look to the Great Eternal Cause
And not to any man, for light.
Look in; and learn the wrong, and right,
From your own soul’s unwritten laws.
And when you question, or demur,
Let Love be your Interpreter.
‘CREDULITY’
If fallacies come knocking at my door,
I’d rather feed, and shelter full a score,
Than hide behind the black portcullis, doubt,
And run the risk of barring one Truth out.
And if pretension for a time deceive,
And prove me one too ready to believe,
Far less my shame, than if by stubborn act,
I brand as lie, some great colossal Fact.
On my soul’s door, the latch-string hangs outside;
Within, the lighted candle. Let me guide
Some errant follies, on their wandering way,
Rather, than Wisdom give no welcoming ray.
CONSCIOUSNESS
God, what a glory, is this consciousness,
Of life on life, that comes to those who seek!
Nor would I, if I might, to others speak,
The fulness of that knowledge. It can bless,
Only the eager souls, that willing, press
Along the mountain passes, to the peak.
Not to the dull, the doubting, or the weak,
Will Truth explain, or Mystery confess.
Not to the curious or impatient soul
That in the start, demands the end be shown,
And at each step, stops waiting for a sign;
But to the tireless toiler toward the goal,
Shall the great miracles of God be known
And life revealed, immortal and divine.
THE STRUCTURE
Upon the wreckage of thy yesterday
Design the structure of to-morrow. Lay
Strong corner stones of purpose, and prepare
Great blocks of wisdom, cut from past despair.
Shape mighty pillars of resolve, to set
Deep in the tear-wet mortar of regret.
Work on with patience. Though thy toil be slow,
Yet day by day the edifice shall grow.
Believe in God—in thine own self believe.
All that thou hast desired thou shalt achieve.
OUR SOULS
Our souls should be vessels receiving
The waters of love for relieving
The sorrows of men.
For here lies the pleasure of living:
In taking God’s bounties, and giving
The gifts back again.
THE LAW
When the great universe was wrought
To might and majesty from naught,
The all creative force was—
_Thought_.
That force is thine. Though desolate
The way may seem, command thy fate.
Send forth thy thought—
Create—_Create_!
KNOWLEDGE
Would you believe in Presences Unseen—
In life beyond this earthly life?
BE STILL: Be stiller yet; and listen. Set the screen
Of silence at the portal of your will.
Relax, and let the world go by unheard.
And seal your lips with some all-sacred word.
Breathe ‘God,’ in any tongue—it means the same;
LOVE ABSOLUTE: Think, feel, absorb the thought;
Shut out all else; until a subtle flame
(A spark from God’s creative centre caught)
Shall permeate your being, and shall glow,
Increasing in its splendour, till, YOU KNOW.
Not in a moment, or an hour, or day
The knowledge comes; the power is far too great,
To win in any desultory way.
No soul is worthy till it learns to wait.
Day after day be patient, then, oh, soul;
Month after month—till, lo! the goal! the goal!
GIVE
Give, and thou shalt receive. Give thoughts of cheer,
Of courage and success, to friend and stranger.
And from a thousand sources, far and near,
Strength will be sent thee in thy hour of danger.
Give words of comfort, of defence, and hope,
To mortals crushed by sorrow and by error.
And though thy feet through shadowy paths may grope,
Thou shalt not walk in loneliness or terror.
Give of thy gold, though small thy portion be.
Gold rusts and shrivels in the hand that keeps it.
It grows in one that opens wide and free.
Who sows his harvest is the one who reaps it.
Give of thy love, nor wait to know the worth
Of what thou lovest; and ask no returning.
And wheresoe’er thy pathway leads on earth,
There thou shalt find the lamp of love-light burning.
PERFECTION
The leaf that ripens only in the sun
Is dull and shrivelled ere its race is run.
The leaf that makes a carnival of death
Must tremble first before the north wind’s breath.
The life that neither grief nor burden knows
Is dwarfed in sympathy before its close.
The life that grows majestic with the years
Must taste the bitter tonic found in tears.
FEAR
Fear is the twin of Faith’s sworn foe, Distrust.
If one breaks in your heart the other must.
Fear is the open enemy of Good.
It means the God in man misunderstood.