By the Sea and Other Verses Part 11

The strife went on with its loss and shame, As generations went and came, And each in its turn the task essayed To solve the problem so long delayed.

Then kinder, kinglier thought prevailed, Where threat of sword and gun had failed; And love-illumined reason wrought The adjustment long so vainly sought.

"For how can a trifle of earth and air With the worth of human lives compare?

And what can it matter if thine or mine Be the narrow side on the Boundary Line?

"And why should greed and grim distrust Despoil us of our faith and trust?

Enough, enough, let us pledge our word To settle by judgment, not by sword.

"Let us heed the counsel our good priests bring, And raise the standard of Christ our King, And the here or there of the Boundary Line Let G.o.d and the British king define."

Then the mother-heart of the nation stirred, As the fair De Costa's plea was heard: "Fathers and brothers! warriors, men!

Shall we give our bravest to death and pain?

"Shall we hush our hearts as we see them go-- G.o.d pity!--to strive with a brother foe?

Long we have waited, have suffered and prayed For a joy still denied us, a hope still delayed.

"Enough; let the sun in highest heaven Pencil the line for which you have striven; Let a princely people on either side In friendship and fair accord abide;

"Be the strife of the past to the wild winds swept; The faith of the future unswervingly kept; And let 'The Christ of the Andes' rest In token of peace on the mountain's crest."

Grandly the people made reply; The pledge was taken, the arms laid by, And glad thanksgiving and festal song Witnessed the joy of the gathered throng.

Joy! for the strife of the past was o'er; Joy! for the promise of war no more; Joy in the gladness of land and home, Joy for the world-wide peace to come.

On snow-tipped height of the Andean range They planted the statue fair and strange; And there, to the query of the sky, Its bronze and granite make reply:

"I witness the failure of the sword, The victory of the Love-sent word; To dust may crumble rock and hill, This pledge of nations abideth still."

So now the Boundary Line is laid; Christ in the heart hath the conflict stayed; And now doth "the Christ of the Andes" rest In token of peace on the mountain's crest.

MARGARET LEE

Margaret Lee--you do not know her?

Rightly named--a pearl is she; Half a score of years I've loved her-- Precious Margaret Lee.

"Dimples?" No; nor "golden tresses,"

Nor yet "voice of silvery tone";-- If such phrases must express her, Beauty she has none.

Soft brown hair and grey eyes dreaming Visions that none others see; Plain her features; _you_ might call her Homely Margaret Lee.

Margaret owns no stately mansion, Carries not a heavy purse; Heiress to no "lordly acres,"

Humble station hers.

Quietly she treads life's highway; Quiet, yet with n.o.ble mien; 'Mid the lowly, 'mid the lofty Journeying like a queen.

Some have called her cold and haughty, From her bearing, high and free; Some have said a lofty spirit Dwells with Margaret Lee.

Why then do the "heavy-laden"

Hail with joy her coming nigh?

Why the childern love her shadow As she pa.s.seth by?

Some have deemed her weak, erratic.

Some, too self-reliant, strong; One avers, her mood too gloomy; One, too light her song.

All may be; the clouds of error Ofttimes overshade her way, Hiding where the rough and changeful Paths of duty lay.

But unseen by mortal vision Daily bends a suppliant knee; Humbly bows a contrite spirit-- Praying Margaret Lee--

Asking of the All-forgiving Pardon for her erring life; Seeking wisdom, faith and patience For its coming strife.

So with footstep sometimes faltering, But with steadfast hope in G.o.d, Keeps she still a blithesome journey O'er the earthly road.

And at last all loss and failure Lost in mercy, it may be Heaven's gate of pearl will open For sweet Margaret Lee.

There redeemed from sin and sorrow, There from care and conflict free; She will walk the angel city, Angel Margaret Lee.

SOARING UPWARD

A. G. M., lingering on the threshold of eternity, looked lovingly back to tell of the glory revealed to her purified vision. "Angels are waiting," she whispered, "and all is beautiful, beautiful." Then, as her spirit winged its happy way, a sweet murmur again was heard, and the words were: "Soaring upward, upward into Heaven."

They call thee dead. They say that thou art gone, Forevermore from earth. It is not so; I know thy gentle spirit will return And linger fondly round the loved below.

They call thee dead. And now thou art not ours; "G.o.d touched thee," for thy work on earth was done.

Thy presence was to us like summer flowers; And they are faded now; and thou art gone.

I had not thought, fair girl, that thou couldst die; I knew thee gentle, innocent and gay; And dreamed not that the brightness of thine eye, Was destined thus so soon to fade away.

'Tis well: "He giveth His beloved sleep,"-- O Sleeper, thou so early loved and blest!

Say, were it wrong, if we who linger weep, And long to sleep, like thee, and be at rest?

Ay, we who linger should not idlers be; Day hath appointed work from morn till even; And while we wait 'tis sweet to think of thee As "soaring upward, upward into heaven!"