Part 5 (1/2)

Because on the branch that is tapping my pane A sun-wakened leaf-bud, uncurled, Is bursting its rusty brown sheathing in twain, I know there is Spring in the world.

Because through the sky-patch whose azure and white My window frames all the day long, A yellow-bird dips for an instant of flight, I know there is Song.

Because even here in this Mansion of Woe Where creep the dull hours, leaden-shod, Compa.s.sion and Tenderness aid me, I know There is G.o.d.

Overnight, a Rose. [Caroline Giltinan]

That overnight a rose could come I one time did believe, For when the fairies live with one, They wilfully deceive.

But now I know this perfect thing Under the frozen sod In cold and storm grew patiently Obedient to G.o.d.

My wonder grows, since knowledge came Old fancies to dismiss; And courage comes. Was not the rose A winter doing this?

Nor did it know, the weary while, What color and perfume With this completed loveliness Lay in that earthly tomb.

So maybe I, who cannot see What G.o.d wills not to show, May, some day, bear a rose for Him It took my life to grow.

The Idol-Maker prays. [Arthur Guiterman]

Great G.o.d whom I shall carve from this gray stone Wherein thou liest, hid to all but me, Grant thou that when my art hath made thee known And others bow, I shall not wors.h.i.+p thee.

But, as I pray thee now, then let me pray Some greater G.o.d, -- like thee to be conceived Within my soul, -- for strength to turn away From his new altar, when, that task achieved, He, too, stands manifest. Yea, let me yearn From dream to grander dream! Let me not rest Content at any goal! Still bid me spurn Each transient triumph on the Eternal Quest, Abjuring G.o.dlings whom my hand hath made For Deity, revealed, but unportrayed!

Reveille. [Louis Untermeyer]

What sudden bugle calls us in the night And wakes us from a dream that we had shaped; Flinging us sharply up against a fight We thought we had escaped.

It is no easy waking, and we win No final peace; our victories are few.

But still imperative forces pull us in And sweep us somehow through.

Summoned by a supreme and confident power That wakes our sleeping courage like a blow, We rise, half-shaken, to the challenging hour, And answer it -- and go.

The Breaking. [Margaret Steele Anderson]

(The Lord G.o.d speaks to a youth)

Bend now thy body to the common weight!

(But oh, that vine-clad head, those limbs of morn!

Those proud young shoulders I myself made straight!

How shall ye wear the yoke that must be worn?)

Look thou, my son, what wisdom comes to thee!

(But oh, that singing mouth, those radiant eyes!