On a stretch of sandy beach I see naught of human presence, but upon looking closer, a remembrance of the past. I sit upon a rock and meditate upon what once was. I see myself in all the splendor of my youth. I see my boon companion—Hope, and one other one, whose name I’d best forget. We walked—Hope and I—but ever the unnamed one stalked by my side. I turned to gaze in fascination at my companion who speaks not, but forever stalks silently beside me. I finally forget my Hope to gaze in interest at the other. Hope, neglected, lags behind until we walk alone—myself and the unnamed one. We walk forever, but the walk brings us to the abyss of the world. What name has that one whose identity I fail to know? O, Eternity, thou art my sight and knowledge. It was Doubt, whose companion I became.

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LABOR

On whose shoulders are the crosses held,

None can liken a laborer to him who bears the heavy-hearted thoughts.

What can I say—it is more laborious than many tasks,

Yet—’tis not task—

For task is given to be done

And ye are the cross bearers if ye will.

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WEALTH (To B. F. S.)

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