the meadow lands. One day, I stood Breast-high amidst its waves, and heard the hum Of myriad bees, that had gone mad like me With fragrance and with beauty. Over us, A loving sun smiled from a cloudless sky, While a bold breeze kissed lightly as it passed, Clover in blossom, red and honey-sweet.

Autumn spoke loudly of the beautiful. And in the gallery of Nature hung Colossal pictures hard against the sky, Set forests gorgeous with a hundred hues; And with each morning, some new wonder flung p. 28Before the startled world; some daring shade, Some strange, new scheme of colour and of form. Autumn spoke loudly of the beautiful.

p. 28

Winter, though rude, is delicate in art—  More delicate than Summer or than fall (Even as rugged man is more refined In vital things than woman). Winter’s touch On Nature seemed most beautiful of all— That evanescent beauty of the frost On window panes; of clean, fresh, fallen snow; Of white, white sunlight on the ice-draped trees. Winter, though rude, is delicate in art.

Morning! The word itself is beautiful, And the young hours have many gifts to give That feed the soul with beauty. He who keeps His days for labour and his nights for sleep Wakes conscious of the joy it is to live, And brings from that mysterious Land of Dreams A sense of beauty that illumines earth. Morning! The word itself is beautiful.

The search for beauty is the search for God.

p. 29THE INVISIBLE HELPERS

p. 29

There are, there are Invisible Great Helpers of the race. Across unatlased continents of space, From star to star. In answer to some soul’s imperious need, They speed, they speed.

When the earth-loving young are forced to stand Upon the border of the Unknown Land, They come, they come—those angels who have trod The altitudes of God, And to the trembling heart Their strength impart. Have you not seen the delicate young maid, Filled with the joy of life in her fair dawn, Look in the face of death, all unafraid, And smilingly pass on?

p. 30This is not human strength; not even faith Has such large confidence in such an hour. It is a power Supplied by beings who have conquered death. Floating from sphere to sphere They hover near The souls that need the courage they can give.

 Prev. P 18/48 next