Or triumphs of one hero (though he be Deserving song for his humility):

The rights of many—not the worth of one; The coming issues—not the battle done;

The awful opulence, and awful need; The rise of brotherhood—the fall of greed,

The soul of man replete with God’s own force, The call “to heights,” and not the cry “to horse,”—

Are there not better themes in this great age For pen of poet, or for voice of sage

Than those old tales of killing? Song is dumb Only that greater song in time may come.

When comes the bard, he whom the world waits for, He will not sing of War.

 

SONG OF THE SPIRIT

All the aim of life is just Getting back to God. Spirit casting off its dust, Getting back to God. Every grief we have to bear Disappointment, cross, despair Each is but another stair Climbing back to God.

Step by step and mile by mile—  Getting back to God; Nothing else is worth the while—  Getting back to God. Light and shadow fill each day Joys and sorrows pass away, Smile at all, and smiling, say, Getting back to God.

Do not wear a mournful face Getting back to God; Scatter sunshine on the place Going back to God; Take what pleasure you can find, But where’er your paths may wind. Keep the purpose well in mind,—  Getting back to God.

 

WOMANHOOD

She must be honest, both in thought and deed, Of generous impulse, and above all greed; Not seeking praise, or place, or power, or pelf, But life’s best blessings for her higher self, Which means the best for all. She must have faith, To make good friends of Trouble, Pain, and Death, And understand their message. She should be As redolent with tender sympathy As is a rose with fragrance. Cheerfulness Should be her mantle, even though her dress May be of Sorrow’s weaving. On her face A loyal nature leaves its seal of grace, And chastity is in her atmosphere. Not that chill chastity which seems austere (Like untrod snow-peaks, lovely to behold Till once attained—then barren, loveless, cold); But the white flame that feeds upon the soul 

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