The Miracle and Other Poems | Page 3

and sweet--Love fain would hold them fast:
He weeps when through his finger tips they slip away at last.

AT THE PLAY
Just above the boxes and where the high lights fall Looketh down a
carven face from out the gilded wall.
Van Dyke beard and broidered ruff silently confess That he lived--and
loved perchance--in days of Good Queen Bess. (Laces fine and linen
sheer, curled and perfumed hair Well became those gentlemen of gay,
insouciant air.)
See! He gazeth evermore at the stage below; Noteth well the players as
they quickly come and go; Queens and kings and maidens fair, motley
fools and friars, Lords and ladies, stately dames, mounted knights and
squires.
Well he knoweth all of them, all the grave and gay, These are they he
dreamt of in the far and far away; Saints and sinners, see they come
down the bygone years, And the world still shares with them its
laughter and its tears.
Still we haunt the greenwood for love of Rosalind, Still we hear the
Jester's bells ajingle on the wind, Still the frenzied Moor we fear--Ah!
and even yet Breathless wait before the tomb of all the Capulet.
Though the slow years pass away, yet on land and sea, Follow we the
Danish Prince in sad soliloquy; And I fancy sometimes when the round
moon saileth high Yet in Venice meet the Jew--as he goeth by.
(Just above the boxes and where the high lights fall Looketh down a
carven face from out the gilded wall.)

CHRISTMAS
With all the little children, far and near, God wot! to-day we'll sing a
song of cheer! To rosy lips and eyes, that know not guile, We one and
all will give back smile for smile; And for the sake of all the small and
gay We will be children also for to-day.

Holly we'll hang, with mistletoe above! God wot! to-day we'll sing a
song of love! And we will trip on merry heel and toe With all the fair
who lightly come and go; We will deny the years that lie behind And
say that age is only in the mind.
And to the needy, in whatever place, God wot! to-day we'll lend a hand
of grace; For where is he who hath not need himself, Although he dine
on silver or on delf? And we who pass and nod this Christmas Day
May never meet again on life's highway.
But when the lights are lit, and day has flown-- God wot! there will be
some who sit alone; Who sit and gaze into the embers' glow, And
watch strange things that flitter to and fro-- The ghosts of dreams; and
faces--long unseen; Shadows of shadows--things that once have been.

THE HEART COURAGEOUS
Who hath a heart courageous Will fight with right good cheer; For well
may he his foes out-face Who owns no foe called Fear!
Who hath a heart courageous Will fight as knight of old For that which
he doth count his own-- Against the world to hold.
Who hath a heart courageous Will fight both night and day, Against the
Host Invisible-- That holds his soul at bay,
Who hath a heart courageous Rests with tranquillity, For Time he
counts not as his foe, Nor Death his enemy.

A SONG
Love maketh its own summer time, 'Tis June, Love, when we are
together, And little I care for the frost in the air, For the heart makes its
own summer weather.
Love maketh its own winter time, And though the hills blossom with
heather, If you are not near, 'tis December, my dear, For the heart
makes its own winter weather.

THE CALL
Across the dusty, foot-worn street Unblessed of flower or tree, Faint
and far-off--there ever sounds The calling of the sea.
From out the quiet of the hills, Where purple shadows lie, The pine
trees murmur, "Come and rest And let the world go by."

The west wind whispers all night long "Oh, journey forth afar To the
green and pleasant places Where little rivers are!"
And the soft and silken rustling Of bending yellow wheat Says, "See
the harvest moon--that dims The arc-lights of the street."
Though the city holds thee captive By trick, and wile, and lure, Out
yonder lies the loveliness Of things that shall endure.
The river road is wide and fair, The prairie-path is free, And still the
old earth waits to give Her strength and joy to thee.

THE KNIGHT-ERRANT
Keen in his blood ran the old mad desire To right the world's wrongs
and champion truth; Deep in his eyes shone a heaven-lit fire, And royal
and radiant day-dreams of youth!
Gracious was he to both beggar and stranger, And for a rose tossed
from fair