Part 20 (1/2)

I

Others endure Man's rule: he therefore deems I shall endure it -- I, the unconquered Air!

Imagines this triumphant strength may bear His paltry sway! yea, ignorantly dreams, Because proud Rhea now his va.s.sal seems, And Neptune him obeys in billowy lair, That he a more sublime a.s.sault may dare, Where blown by tempest wild the vulture screams!

Presumptuous, he mounts: I toss his bones Back from the height supernal he has braved: Ay, as his vessel nears my perilous zones, I blow the c.o.c.kle-sh.e.l.l away like chaff And give him to the Sea he has enslaved.

He founders in its depths; and then I laugh!

II

Impregnable I held myself, secure Against intrusion. Who can measure Man?

How should I guess his mortal will outran Defeat so far that danger could allure For its own sake? -- that he would all endure, All sacrifice, all suffer, rather than Forego the daring dreams Olympian That prophesy to him of victory sure?

Ah, tameless courage! -- dominating power That, all attempting, in a deathless hour Made earth-born t.i.tans G.o.dlike, in revolt! -- Fear is the fire that melts Icarian wings: Who fears nor Fate, nor Time, nor what Time brings, May drive Apollo's steeds, or wield the thunderbolt!

The Happiest Heart. [John Vance Cheney]

Who drives the horses of the sun Shall lord it but a day; Better the lowly deed were done, And kept the humble way.

The rust will find the sword of fame, The dust will hide the crown; Ay, none shall nail so high his name Time will not tear it down.

The happiest heart that ever beat Was in some quiet breast That found the common daylight sweet, And left to Heaven the rest.

To a New York Shop-Girl dressed for Sunday. [Anna Hempstead Branch]

To-day I saw the shop-girl go Down gay Broadway to meet her beau.

Conspicuous, splendid, conscious, sweet, She spread abroad and took the street.

And all that niceness would forbid, Superb, she smiled upon and did.

Let other girls, whose happier days Preserve the perfume of their ways,

Go modestly. The pa.s.sing hour Adds splendor to their opening flower.

But from this child too swift a doom Must steal her prettiness and bloom,

Toil and weariness hide the grace That pleads a moment from her face.

So blame her not if for a day She flaunts her glories while she may.

She half perceives, half understands, s.n.a.t.c.hing her gifts with both her hands.

The little strut beneath the skirt That lags neglected in the dirt,