Part 7 (1/2)

Looking from His place, looking from His high place among the stars, G.o.d saw a peaceful land - A land of fertile fields and golden harvests--and great cities whose innumerable spires pierced the vault of heaven, like bayonets of an invading army.

And G.o.d said, speaking unto Himself aloud, G.o.d said: 'Peace and power and plenty have I given unto this land; and those tall steeples are monuments to Me.

Now let My people reveal themselves, that I may see their works, done in My name in a fertile land of peace.

I will withdraw Mine eyes from other worlds that I may behold them, that I may behold these people to whom I sent Christ--they whose innumerable spires pierce My blue vault like bayonets.'

G.o.d saw the restless, idle rich in club and cabaret, Meat-gorged, wine-filled, they played and preened and danced till dawn o' day; They played at sports; they played at love; they played at being gay.

They were but empty, silk-clad sh.e.l.ls; their souls had leaked away.

He saw the sweat-shop and the mill where little children toiled, The sunless rooms where mothers slaved and unborn souls were spoiled; While those whose greedy, selfish lives had thrust the toilers there, He saw whirled down broad avenues, clothed all with raiment fair.

He saw in homes made beautiful with all that gold can give Unhappy souls at odds with life, not knowing how to live.

He saw fair, pampered women turn from motherhood's sweet joy, Obsessed with methods to prevent or mania to destroy.

He saw men sell their souls to vice and avarice and greed; He heard race quarrelling with race and creed decrying creed; And shameful wealth and waste He saw, and shameful want and need.

He saw bold little children come from church and schoolroom, blind To suffering of lesser things, unfeeling and unkind; He heard them taunt the poor, and tease their furred and feathered kin; And no voice spake from home or church to tell them this was sin.

He heard the cry of wounded things, the wasteful gun's report; He saw the morbid craze to kill, which Christian men called sport.

And then G.o.d hid His grieving face behind a wall of cloud, On earth they said, 'A thunder-storm'--but G.o.d had wept aloud.

IT MAY BE

Let us be silent for a little while; Let us be still and listen. We may hear Echoes from other worlds not far a way.

City on city rising, steeple out-topping steeple, Gaining and h.o.a.rding and spending, and armies on battle bent, People and people and people, and ever more human people - This is not all of creation, this is not all that was meant!

Earth on its...o...b..t spinning, This is not end or beginning; That is but one of a trillion spheres out into the ether hurled: We move in a zone of wonder, And over our planet and under Are infinite orders of beings and marvels of world on world.

There may be moving among us curious people and races, Folk of the fourth dimension, folk of the vast star s.p.a.ces.

They may be trying to reach us, They may be longing to teach us Things we are longing to know.

If it is so, Voices like these are not heard in earth's riot, Let us be quiet.

Cla.s.ses with cla.s.ses disputing, nation warring with nation, Building and owning and seeking to lead--this is not all!

Endless the works of creation, There may be waiting our call Beings in numberless legions, Dwellers in rarefied regions, Journeying G.o.dward like us, Alist for a word to be spoken, Awatch for a sign or a token.

If it be thus, How they must grieve at our riotous noise And the things we call duties and joys!

Let us be silent for a little while; Let us be still and listen. We may hear Echoes from other worlds not far away.

THEN AND NOW

A little time agone, a few brief years, And there was peace within our beauteous borders; Peace, and a prosperous people, and no fears Of war and its disorders.

Pleasure was ruling G.o.ddess of our land; with her attendant Mirth She led a jubilant, joy-seeking band about the riant earth.

Do you recall those laughing days, my Brothers, And those long nights that trespa.s.sed on the dawn?

Those throngs of idle dancing maids and mothers Who lilted on and on - Card mad, wine flushed, bejewelled and half stripped, Yet women whose sweet mouth had never sipped From sin's black chalice--women good at heart Who, in the winding maze of pleasure's mart, Had lost the sun-kissed way to wholesome pleasures of an earlier day.