Part 23 (2/2)
And Molly was at home, singing about hers! At night, when the sun was set, and his day's work done, he would go home to her and his father, to his room and his books and his writing!
But as he labored, his thought this day was most of his father: he was trying to _make_ something to cheer him. The eyes of the old man never lost their love, but when he forgot to smile, Molly looked grave, and Walter felt that a cloud was over the sun. They were a true family: when one member suffered, all the members suffered with it.
So throughout the morning, as his horses pulled, and the earth opened, and the plow folded the furrow back, Walter thought, and made, and remembered: he had a gift for remembering completions, and forgetting the chips and rejected rubbish of the process. In the evening he carried borne with him these verses:
How shall he sing who hath no song?
He laugh who hath no mirth?
Will strongest can not wake a song!
It is no use to strive or long To sing with them that have a song, And mirthless laugh with mirth!
Though sad, he must confront the wrong, And for the right face any throng, Waiting, with patience sweet and strong, Until G.o.d's glory fills the earth; Then shall he sing who had no song, He laugh who had no mirth!
Yea, if like barren rock thou sit Upon a land of dearth, Round which but phantom waters flit, Of visionary birth-- Yet be thou still, and wait, wait long; There comes a sea to drown the wrong, His glory shall o'erwhelm the earth, And thou, no more a scathed rock, Shall start alive with gladsome shock, Shalt a hand-clapping billow be, And shout with the eternal sea!
To righteousness and love belong The dance, the jubilance, the song!
For, lo, the right hath quelled the wrong, And truth hath stilled the lying tongue!
For, lo, the glad G.o.d fills the earth.
And Love sits down by every hearth!
Now must thou sing because of song, Now laugh because of mirth!
Molly read the verses, and rose to run with them to her father. But Walter caught and held her.
”Remember, Molly,” he said, ”I wrote it for my father; it is not my own feeling at the moment. For me, G.o.d _has_ sent a wave of his glory over the earth; it has come swelling out of the deep sea of his thought, has caught me up, and is making me joyful as the morning. That wave is my love for you, Molly--is you, my Molly!”
She turned and kissed him, then ran to his father. He read, turned, and kissed Molly.
In his heart he sung this song:
”Blessed art thou among women! for thou hast given me a son of consolation!”
And to Molly he said,
”Let us go to Walter!”
THE END.
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