Part 11 (1/2)

”Again I sprang forth froue fit; I clutched that red gold, burning red, I clutched, as if to strangle it

”I clutched it up--you hear me, boy?-- I clutched it up with joyful tears!

I clutched it close, with such wild joy I had not felt for years and years!

”Such joy! for I should now retrace My steps, should see old this battle day, And see her, see her, hear her pray!

”I brought it back--you hear ht gold that giveth joy To all, and anywhere or how;

”That giveth joy to all but me,-- To all but me, yet soon to all

It burns my hands, it burns! but she Shall opehand To give these bags of gold; to see Her smile as once she smiled on me Here in this pleasant, warm palm-land!”

He ceased, he thrust each hard-clenched fist, He threw his gold hard forth again, As one impelled by some mad pain He would not or could not resist

The creole, scorning, turned away, As if he turned from that lost thief,-- The one that died without belief That awful crucifixion day

III

Believe in man, nor turn away

Lo! man advances year by year; Time bears him upward, and his sphere Of life e belief; The garnered grain each harvest-time Hath promise, roundness, and full prime For all the empty chaff and sheaf

Believe in man with proud belief: Truth keeps the bottom of her well, And when the thief peeps down, the thief Peeps back at him, perpetual

Faint not that this or that man fell; For one that falls a thousand rise To lift white Progress to the skies: Truth keeps the bottom of her well

Fear not for e belief

Lo! Christ himself chose only twelve, Yet one of these turned out a thief

IV

Down through the dark ainst the orange-blossoht weaves and weaves,--

A loo clothes Froe-tree, For fairy folk in fragrant rose

Down through the hostly gloo white moonbea white finger through the glooer pointing out A name upon that nameless tomb

V

Her white face bowed in her black hair, Thepin,-- Ay, hear her white unuttered prayer