Part 5 (1/2)
St. Francis of a.s.sisi
Would I might wake St. Francis in you all, Brother of birds and trees, G.o.d's Troubadour, Blinded with weeping for the sad and poor; Our wealth undone, all strict Franciscan men, Come, let us chant the canticle again Of mother earth and the enduring sun.
G.o.d make each soul the lonely leper's slave; G.o.d make us saints, and brave.
Buddha
Would that by Hindu magic we became Dark monks of jeweled India long ago, Sitting at Prince Siddartha's feet to know The foolishness of gold and love and station, The gospel of the Great Renunciation, The ragged cloak, the staff, the rain and sun, The beggar's life, with far Nirvana gleaming: Lord, make us Buddhas, dreaming.
A Prayer to All the Dead Among Mine Own People
Are these your presences, my clan from Heaven?
Are these your hands upon my wounded soul?
Mine own, mine own, blood of my blood be with me, Fly by my path till you have made me whole!
To Reformers in Despair
'Tis not too late to build our young land right, Cleaner than Holland, courtlier than j.a.pan, Devout like early Rome, with hearths like hers, Hearths that will recreate the breed called man.
Why I Voted the Socialist Ticket
I am unjust, but I can strive for justice.
My life's unkind, but I can vote for kindness.
I, the unloving, say life should be lovely.
I, that am blind, cry out against my blindness.
Man is a curious brute--he pets his fancies-- Fighting mankind, to win sweet luxury.
So he will be, tho' law be clear as crystal, Tho' all men plan to live in harmony.
Come, let us vote against our human nature, Crying to G.o.d in all the polling places To heal our everlasting sinfulness And make us sages with transfigured faces.
The following verses were written on the evening of March the first, nineteen hundred and eleven, and printed next morning in the Illinois State Register.
They celebrate the arrival of the news that the United States Senate had declared the election of William Lorimer good and valid, by a vote of forty-six to forty.
To the United States Senate