Bees in Amber | Page 6

through your
depths, unseen, unheard,
Sped on its way the glorious word
That called a weary
nation to ungird,
And sheathed once more the keen, reluctant sword?
Thank God for Peace!
The word came to us as we knelt in prayer
That wars might
cease.
Peace found us on our knees, and prayer for Peace
Was changed to prayer of
deepest thankfulness.
We knelt in War, we rose in Peace to bless
Thy grace, Thy care,
Thy tenderness.
Thank God for Peace!
No matter now the rights and wrongs of it;
You fought us
bravely, and we fought you fair.
The fight is done. Grip hands! No malice bear!
We
greet you, brothers, to the nobler strife
Of building up the newer, larger life!
Join hands! Join hands! Ye nations of the stock!
And make henceforth a mighty Trust
for Peace.
A great enduring peace that shall withstand
The shocks of time and
circumstance; and every land
Shall rise and bless you--and shall never cease
To bless
you--for that glorious gift of Peace.

GOD'S HANDWRITING
He writes in characters too grand
For our short sight to understand;
We catch but
broken strokes, and try
To fathom all the mystery
Of withered hopes, of death, of life,

The endless war, the useless strife,--
But there, with larger, clearer sight,
We shall
see this--His way was right.
STEPHEN--SAUL
Stephen, who died while I stood by consenting,
Wrought in his death the making of a
life,
Bruised one hard heart to thought of swift repenting,
Fitted one fighter for a
nobler strife.
Stephen, the Saint, triumphant and forgiving,
Prayed while the hot blows beat him to
the earth.
Was that a dying? Rather was it living!--
Through his soul's travail my soul
came to birth.
Stephen, the Martyr, full of faith and fearless,
Smiled when his bruised lips could no
longer pray,--
Smiled with a courage undismayed and peerless,--
Smiled!--and that
smile is with me, night and day.
O, was it _I_ that stood there, all consenting?
_I_--at whose feet the young men's
clothes were laid?
Was it my will that wrought that hot tormenting?
My heart that
boasted over Stephen, dead?
Yes, it was I. And sore to me the telling.
Yes, it was I. And thought of it has been

God's potent spur my whole soul's might compelling
These outer darknesses for Him to
win.
PAUL
Bond-slave to Christ, and in my bonds rejoicing,
Earmarked to Him I counted less than
nought;
His man henceforward, eager to be voicing
That wondrous Love which Saul
the Roman sought.
Sought him and found him, working bitter sorrow;
Found him and claimed him, chose
him for his own;
Bound him in darkness, till the glorious morrow
Unsealed his eyes
to that he had not known.
WAKENING
This mortal dies,--
But, in the moment when the light fails here,
The darkness opens,
and the vision clear
Breaks on his eyes.

The vail is rent,--
On his enraptured gaze
heaven's glory breaks,
He was asleep, and in that moment wakes.
MACEDONIA, 1903

Devils' work!
Devils' work, my masters!
Britain, your hands are red!
You may close your heart, but you cannot shirk
This
terrible fact,--We--kept--the--Turk.
His day was past and we knew his work,
But he
played our game, so we kept the Turk,
For our own sake's sake we kept the Turk.
Britain, your hands are red!
Red are the walls and the ways,
And--Britain, your hands are red!
There is blood on the hearth, and blood in the well,

And the whole fair land is a red, red hell,--
Britain, your hands are red!
"Come over! Come over and help us!"
We are deaf to the ancient cry.
--"For the sake
of our women and children!"
And Britain stands quietly by.
O Britain, your hands are red!
Cleanse your hands, Britain!
Yea, cleanse them in blood if it must be!
For blood that
is shed in the cause of right
Has power, as of old, to wash souls white.
Cleanse your hands, Britain!
O for the fiery grace of old,--
The heart and the masterful hand!
But grace grows dim
and the fire grows cold,
We are heavy with greed and lust and gold,
And life creeps
low in the land.
Break your bonds, Britain!
Stand up once again for the right!
We have stained our
hands in the times that are past,
Before God, we would wash them white.
_For the Nations are in the proving;
Each day is Judgment Day;
And the peoples He
finds wanting
Shall pass--by the winding way_.
HEARTS IN EXILE
O Exiled Hearts--for you, for you--
Love still can find the way!
Hear the voices of the
women on the road!
O Shadowed Lives--for you, for you--
Hope hath not lost her ray!

Hear the laughter of the children on the road!

O Gloomy Night--for you, for you--

Dawn tells of coming day!
Hear the clink of breaking fetters on the road!
O Might
sans Right--for you, for you--
The feet of crumbling clay!
Hear the slow, sure tread
of Freedom on the road!
WANDERED

The wind blows shrill along the hill,
--Black is the night and cold--
The sky hangs
low with its weight of snow,
And the drifts are deep on the wold.
But what care I for
wind or snow?
And what care I for the cold?
_Oh ... where is