Giant Hours With Poet Preachers | Page 3

Here rings and here sings David the shepherd; the sweet lute, the harp, the wind in the trees, the surge of the ocean-reef. It is music of a high and holy kind.
Which reminds me that I am to treat in this chapter on Markham only of what he has written since 1906, the preceding period, best known through his "Man with the Hoe," having been discussed by Dr. Downey in the book heretofore mentioned. I have the joy-task in these brief lines to bring to you Markham's "The Shoes of Happiness," which seems to me the strongest book he has written, not forgetting, either, "The Hoe" book, as he himself calls it.
If you have the privilege of personal friendship with this "Father Poet," he will write for you somewhere, some time, some place, these four favorite lines, with a twinkle in his eyes that is half boy and half sage, but all love, which quatrain he calls "Outwitted":
"He drew a circle that shut me out-- Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout. But Love and I had the wit to win: We drew a circle that took him in!" The Shoes of Happiness.
And with these four lines he introduces the new book of poems, "The Shoes of Happiness."
THE HAPPINESS OF POVERTY
One wonders where "The Shoes of Happiness" may be found, and the answer is forthcoming in the first of "Six Stories," when he finds that the Sultan Mahmoud is near unto death, and that there is just one thing that will make him well, and that is that he may wear the shoes of a perfectly happy man:
"For only by this can you break the ban: You must wear the shoes of a happy man." The Shoes of Happiness.
The Vizier was sent to find these shoes or lose his own head:
"Go forth, Vizier, when the dawn is red, And bring me the shoes, or send instead, By the hand of this trusted slave, your head!" The Shoes of Happiness.
He first found a crowd of idle rich going forth for a day's outing among the fields and flowers, a "swarm of the folk of high degree," and thought to find the shoes here, but, alas! he found that
"In each glad heart was a wistful cry; Behind each joy was a secret sigh." The Shoes of Happiness.
He turned from the rich and sought the homes of the poor, and the Father in the home of the poor said unto him:
"Ah, Vizier, I have seven sweet joys, but I have one fear: The dread of to-morrow ever is here!" The Shoes of Happiness.
A Poet was found weaving a song of happiness, and the Vizier thought that surely here would he find the man with the "happy shoes," but the Poet cried:
"No," sighed the poet; "you do me wrong, For sorrow is ever the nest of song." The Shoes of Happiness.
Everywhere that he wandered in search he found some touch of unhappiness. He tried Youth and Age, but,
"The young were restless that youth should stay, The old were sad that it went away."
The Shoes of Happiness.
He thought to find the shoes on the feet of the Lover, but heard the Lover say:
"Yes, yes; but love is a tower of fears, A joy half torment, a heaven half tears!"
The Shoes of Happiness.
He had heard of a wise old Sage, who had been to Mecca, and sought him only to hear, "I am not glad; I am only wise." At last he heard of a man from far Algiers. With hurried steps he sought in vain. At last one day he found a man lying in a field:
"'Ho,' cried Halil, 'I am seeking one Whose days are all in a brightness run.'-- 'Then I am he, for I have no lands, Nor have any gold to crook my hands. Favor, nor fortune, nor fame have I, And I only ask for a road and a sky-- These, and a pipe of the willow-tree To whisper the music out of me.'
"Out into the field the vizier ran. 'Allah-il-Allah! but you are the man; Your shoes then, quick, for the great sultan-- Quick, and all fortunes are yours to choose!' 'Yes, mighty Vizier,... but I have no shoes!'"
The Shoes of Happiness.
THE HAPPINESS OF LOWLINESS
And just as this opening poem teaches the happiness of poverty, so the next, "The Juggler of Touraine," teaches the happiness of lowliness.
Poor Barnabas, just a common juggler, when winter came, because he had been spending the summer amusing people, had no place to go, and a sympathetic monk took him into the monastery to live. Barnabas was happy for a time; but after a while, as he saw everybody else worshiping the Beautiful Mother with lute and brush, viol, drum, talent, and prayer, he began to feel that his talents were worthless:
"But I, poor Barnabas,