The Miracle and Other Poems | Page 2

trembling limb-- The One of all the earth his soul desired Stood
still--and spoke to him.
Then silence fell, while the upheaving throng, As sea-waves backward
curled, Left a great path, and down the path there shone The Light of
all the world.
The Light from whose mysterious golden depths The Sun rose in his
might-- The light from whose white, hidden fires were lit The torches

of the night;
The Light that shining on a thing of clay Giveth it Life and Will: The
Light that with an unknown power can blast And bid all life be still;
The Light that calls a ray of its own light A man's undying soul-- The
Light that lifts the broken lives of earth, Touches and makes them
whole.
Up towards the Radiance Bartimeus went, Alone, and poor, and blind--
Feeling his way, if haply it led on To One he fain would find.
Then spoke the Voice again. Oh, mystic words Of a compelling grace:
The curtain rose from off his darkened sight-- He saw the King's own
face.
So strangely beautiful--so strangely near-- He worshipped with his eyes,
Unheeding that for him at last there shone The sunlit noonday skies.
What though the clamouring crowd echoed his name Unto its utmost
rim, He only saw the Christ--and in the light He rose and followed
Him.
* * * * *
Oh, Bartimeus of the mask-like face, And patient, outstretched hand,
Was it for this God set on thee the mark No man might understand?

THE CROW
Hail, little herald!--Art thou then returning From summer lands, this
wild and wind-torn day? Hast brought the word for which our hearts
are yearning, That spring is on the way? Hark! Now there comes a clear,
insistent calling,
From hill tops crested with untarnished snow; The trumpet notes are
drifting--floating--falling-- Whene'er the breezes blow!
"Winter is over, and the spring is coming!" Glad is thy message, little
page in black-- "Winter is over, and the spring is coming-- The spring
is coming back!"
Tell me, 0 prophet, bird of sombre feather, Who taught thee all the
mysteries of spring?-- Didst note each passing mood of wind and
weather, While flying to the North on buoyant wing?
Or didst thou rest upon the bare brown branches And hear the sap go
singing through the trees?-- Didst watch with keen, far-seeing
downward glances, The leaves unlock their cells with fairy keys?
What though thy voice hath not a trace of sweetness It thrills one

through and through, With promises of Joy in all completeness What
time the skies are blue. When robins from the apple-trees are flinging
Out on the air their silver shower of song,-- In lilac days, when children
run a-singing, No single thought shall do thy memory wrong.
"Winter is over and the spring is coming!" Sweet are thy tidings, little
page in black-- "Winter is over and the spring is coming-- The spring is
coming back!"

WHEN APRIL COMES!
When April comes with softly shining eyes, And daffodils bound in her
wind-blown hair, Oh, she will coax all clouds from out the skies, And
every day will bring some sweet surprise,-- The swallows will come
swinging through the air When April comes!
When April comes with tender smile and tear, Dear dandelions will
gild the common ways, And at the break of morning we will hear The
piping of the robins crystal clear-- While bobolinks will whistle
through the days, When April comes!
When April comes, the world so wise and old, Will half forget that it is
worn and grey; Winter will seem but as a tale long told-- Its bitter
winds with all its frost and cold Will be the by-gone things of yesterday,
When April comes!

KISMET
Love came to her unsought, Love served her many ways, And patiently
Love followed her Throughout the nights and days.
Love spent his life for her And hid his tears and sighs; He bartered all
his soul for her, With tender pleading eyes.
Her scarlet mouth that smiled, Mocked lightly at his woe, And while
she would not bid him stay She did not bid him go.
But hope within him failed Until he pled no more-- And cold and still
he turned his face Away from her heart's door.
* * * * *
Long were the days she watched For one who never came;-- Through
sleepless nights her white lips bore The burden of a name.

A SONG OF SUMMER DAYS

As pearls slip off a silken string and fall into the sea, These rounded
summer days fall back into eternity.
Into the deep from whence they came; into the mystery-- At set of sun
each one slips back as pearls into the sea.
They are so sweet--so warm