Freedom, Truth And Beauty Part 16

ALL LUMINARIES HAVE ONE TREND

All luminaries have one source, one trend.

The stars that calm the sailor, long sea-swirled, And canopy fond lovers from the World, And those that lead the heart and spirit, blend.

Lo, only in the things and thoughts that tend Toward Love's High Harmony, is truth unfurled; All else are lies, whence heart, soul, mind are hurled Back to the Right--to Progress without end.

The stars all chant as one. My soaring song Catches their flame and these few sparks reach earth: "As soon the sh.e.l.ls forget their Ocean birth, As men forget the Right, where they belong By reason and by soul of deathless worth; Address the G.o.d in man, wouldst thou grow strong."

LIFE TAKES MORNING HUES WITH THE ARTS OF PEACE

America! from out the depths thy coast Was lifted skyward for Humanity.

Thy Life, once finny circlings in the sea, Is now the orbits of the starry host, Encircling G.o.d with trust. Be this thy boast, When the long line of Ages, pa.s.sing thee, Lifts each his heart and soul, and shouts with glee, "That Trust in Him was Sentinel on post."

Night, that once boa-like hung from thy trees, Gorged with crushed tribes--with pottery, or mound, Or print of foot for trace--slinks underground; For lo, the forests, like the mist on seas, Clears, ere the Sun, at earth's edge, glows half-round, And life takes cloud-hues with the arts of Peace.

U. S. SENATOR JAMES A. O'GORMAN AND THE STALWARTS

On toward the Senate scuds a thunder-rack-- Nay, cyclone--and the columns--all star-straight-- Of Freedom's Temple sway with the roof's flood-weight.

Ye Stalwarts who scorn off a fate, pitch-black, Holding the columns, let no sinew slack.

A crash and through the roof, what floods of hate!

Still, ye budge not, for "Freedom," your teeth grate, "Shall lie no wreck along the cyclone's track."

Oh, not for you was dark the time to slumber, But to hold Freedom's columns all star-plumb!

Yours was a watery grave, but Martyrdom And, hence, your resurrection with the number, Whose greatness greatens, as the Ages come To know why their pathway, no wrecks enc.u.mber.

MINISTER OF JUSTICE PALMER, A BASTILE BUILDER

O Bastile Builder! Nature, when she shaped Thy soul, was stricken, with a long attack Of sleeping sickness; nor till wheel and rack Had rusted, and man spirit had escaped The bolsted, loathesome tomb where right was raped, Did she awaken and, alack! alack!

Deliver thee, who, put on Freedom's back, Would'st grab all things, at which thy Past-eyes gaped.

Freedom would humor thee; so, down he flopped On Justice's floor to watch thee build with blocks.

Great was thy skill with walls and dungeon locks, And with the trap, down which poor Freedom dropped To be steel-masked, or, else, put in the stocks, To writhe, then, with his tongue and ears, both lopped.

A SPECK, BUT NOT A STAIN, HARVARD

O Harvard of the Norton wreath of gold And pearled, Longfellow purple! wherefore frown?

If Eliott is a speck upon your gown, It will wash off; it is no stain to hold, For you had let him go for being old.

Your wisdom was confirmed when to the crown, A'gainst good folks who, like Elisha Brown, Fought for their homes, he gave his name's renown.

Come, Aga.s.siz! for, from the smallest bone, You reconstruct the creature, tongue to tail.

Tell us what Eliott is. Phew! What! a Whale?

No; tis the prehistoric monster, known As Tory, that devoured young Nathan Hale And, where it crawled, spread horror's crimson zone.

SUPREME COURT JUSTICE CHARLES L. GUY

Your heart is not a traitor to your mind.

Who, knowing innocence in danger, dares Not turn his eye, for fear of smirk, or stares, By other courts, is Justice's statue blind, That to the wall, not Bench, should be a.s.signed.

Oft, Precedent is Folly with gray hairs; So you, recalling Junius, heard the prayers Of friendless Stilow; then, what did you find?

A fellow man doomed wrongfully to die A felon's death. If such was Stilow's fate, You saw, the felon would have been the State; Hence, turned from Precedent, demanding "Why?"

Justice, asleep in marble, woke and straight Unroofed the courthouse to let down the sky.

REAR ADMIRAL SIMS

A Dukedom, and not one the worse for wear, Has Sims well earned by service to the King.

'Tis said at court, Howe's spirit following The ocean still, found Sims his natural heir And said: "Swap souls; and, that the swap be fair, Give me to boot, the bone of Freedom's wing, To make the skyey bird a hobbling thing In marshes, where the ignisfatus flare."

The Eagle with his eye and pinion, trained For mateship with the sun, twitched at a sting.

Amazed to find a "cootie" on his wing, And that the insect dreamed, it was ordained By race heredity to serve the King-- He shook his plume and azured, unprofained.

SAINT GEORGE AND THE DRAGON

I

In English nature, did Saint George prevail Over the Dragon? Maybe in the time When England knew not poverty, nor crime, Described by Cobbett, who would not go bail For falsehood, nor let truth remain in jail.

It must, then, have renewed life from its slime, For, oh! through deeds, that turn the blood to chyme And eyes white inward, see him ride the gale.

In English nature--oh, where now the saint-- The spirit, to sublime conceptions, true?

Has good Saint George, too woundful to renew His conflict with the dragon of base taint, Been caught up by Elias from earth's view?

How, else, the dragon's rage in irrestraint?