The Englishman and Other Poems | Page 6

a rail is a friend to trust.
The iron rail, with its face to the sod,
Is only a bar of ore;
Yet it
speeds where never a foot has trod;
And the narrow path where it
leads, grows broad;
And it speaks to the world in the voice of God,

That echoes from shore to shore.
Though the iron rail, on the earth down flung,
Seems kin to the loam
and the soil,
Wherever its high shrill note is sung,
Out of the jungle
fair homes have sprung,
And the voices of babel find one tongue,
In
the common language of toil.
Of priest, and warrior, and conquering king,
Of Knights of the Holy
Grail,
Of wonders of winter, and glories of spring,
Always and ever
the poets sing;
But the great God-Force, in a lowly thing,
I sing, in
my song of the rail.
ALWAYS AT SEA
Always at sea I think about the dead.
On barques invisible they seem
to sail
The self-same course; and from the decks cry 'Hail'!
Then I

recall old words that they have said,
And see their faces etched upon
the mist -
Dear faces I have kissed.
Always the dead seem very close at sea.
The coarse vibrations of the
earth debar
Our spirit friends from coming where we are.
But
through God's ether, unimpeded, free,
They wing their way, the ocean
deeps above -
And find the hearts that love.
Always at sea my dead come very near.
A growing host; some old in
spirit lore,
And some who crossed to find the other shore
But
yesterday. All, all, I see and hear
With inner senses, while the voice
of faith
Proclaims--there is no death.
THE SUITORS
There is a little Bungalow
Perched on a granite ledge,
And at its
feet two suitors meet;
(I watch them, and I know)
One waits outside
the casement edge;
One paces to and fro.
The Patient Rock speaks not a word;
The Sea goes up and down,

And sings full oft, in cadence soft;
(I listen, and have heard)
Again
he wears an angry frown
By jealous passion stirred.
This dawn, the Rock was all aglow;
Far out the mad Sea went;

Beyond the raft, like one gone daft;
(I saw them, and I know)
While
radiant and well content
Smiled down the Bungalow.
That was at Dawn; ere day had set,
The Sea with pleading voice

Came back to woo his love anew;
(I saw them when they met)
And
now I know not which her choice -
(The Rock's gray face was wet.)

THE JEALOUS GODS
'Oh life is wonderful,' she said,
'And all my world is bright;
Can
Paradise show fairer skies,
Or more effulgent light?'
(Speak lower,
lower, mortal heart,
The jealous gods may hear.)
She turned for answer; but his gaze
Cut past her like a lance,
And
shone like flame on one who came
With radiant glance for glance.

(You spoke too loud, O mortal heart,
The jealous gods were near.)
They walked through green and sunlit ways;
And yet the earth
seemed black,
For there were three, where two should be;
So runs
the world, alack.
(The listening gods, the jealous gods,
They want
no Edens here.)
GOD RULES ALWAY
Into the world's most high and holy places
Men carry selfishness, and graft and greed.
The air is rent with
warring of the races;
Loud Dogmas drown a brother's cry of need.
The Fleet-of-Creeds,
upon Time's ocean lurches;
And there is mutiny upon her decks;
And in the light of temples, and
of churches,
Against life's shores drift wrecks and derelicts.
(God rules, God rules alway.)
Right in the shadow of the lofty steeple,
Which crowns some costly edifice of faith,
Behold the throngs of
hungry, unhoused people;

The 'Bread Line,' flanked by charity and death.
See yonder
Churchman, opulently doing
Unnumbered deeds, which gladden and resound;
The while his thrifty
tenant is pursuing
The white slave trade on sacred, untaxed ground.
(God rules, God rules alway.)
For these are but the outward signs of fever;
Those flaunting signs, which through delirium burn;
And the
clear-seeing eye of each Believer
Can note the coming crisis. It will turn,
For it has reached its summit.
Convalescing,
The sick world shall arise to strength and peace,
And earth shall
bloom, with each and every blessing
Life waits to give, when wars and conflicts cease.
(God rules, God rules alway.)
This is a mighty hour. No sounds of drumming,
No flying flags, no heralds do appear;
No Wise Men of the East
proclaim His coming;
Yet He is coming--nay, our Christ is here!
And man shall leave his
fever dreams behind him;
Those dreams of avarice, and lust, and sin,
And seek his Lord; yea, he
shall seek and find Him,
In his own soul, where He has always been.

(God rules, God rules alway.)
Man longs for God. Before the Christ we wot of,
With His brief mighty message, came to earth,
Before His life, or
creed, or cross were thought of,
The love of love within man's breast had birth.
But blindly, through
his carnal senses reaching,
He plucked dead fruit, and nothing has sufficed;
Nor can his soul find
rest in any teaching,
Until he knows that