The Kingdom of Love Part 5

(A shrewder angel well there could not be.) Quoth he: "Behold my love for thee, my brother, For I have left all heaven to stay with thee.

"Thy loneliness and wanderings I will share, Thy heavy burden I will help thee bear."

"Well said," the demon answered, "and well done, But I'll not tax you with this heavy sun.

"Your company will cheer me, it is true, And I could never think of burdening you."

Idly they wandered onward, side by side, Till, by and by, they neared a silvery tide.

"Let's bathe," the angel suddenly suggested.

"Agreed," the demon answered. "I'll go last, Because I needs must leave quite unmolested This tiresome sun, which I will now make fast.

He set the pole well in the sandy turf, And called a jackdaw near to watch the place.

Meanwhile the angel paddled in the surf, And playfully dared his brother to a race.

They swam around together for a while, The demon always keeping near his prize, Till presently the angel, with a smile, Proposed a healthful diving exercise.

The demon hesitated. "But," thought he, "The jackdaw will inform me with a cry If this good brother tries deceiving me; I will not be outdone by him--not I!"

Down, down they went. The angel in a trice Rose up again, and swift to sh.o.r.e he sped.

The jackdaw shrieked, but lo! a mile of ice The demon found had frozen o'er his head.

He swore an oath, and gathered all his force, And broke the ice, to see the sun, of course, Held firmly in the radiant angel's hand, Who sailed away toward the heavenly land.

He gave pursuit. Wrath lent speed to his chase; All heaven leaned down to watch the exciting race.

On, on they came, and still the Evil One Gained on the angel burdened with the sun.

With bated breath and faces white as ghosts, Over the walls leaned heaven's affrighted hosts.

Up, up, still up, the angel almost spent, Threw one foot forward o'er the battlement.

The demon seized the other with a shout; So fierce his clutch he pulled the bottom out, As the good angel, fainting, laid the sun Down by the throne of G.o.d, who cried: "Well done!

Thy great misfortune shall be made divine: _Man_ will I create with a foot like thine!"

PEEK-A-BOO

The cunningest thing that a baby can do Is the very first time it plays peek-a-boo;

When it hides its pink little face in its hands, And crows, and shows that it understands

What nurse, and mamma and papa, too, Mean when they hide and cry, "Peek a-boo, peek-a-boo."

Oh, what a wonderful thing it is, When they find that baby can play like this!

And every one listens, and thinks it true That baby's gurgle means "Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo";

And over and over the changes are rung On the marvellous infant who talks so young.

I wonder if any one ever knew A baby that never played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.

'Tis old as the hills are. I believe Cain was taught it by Mother Eve;

For Cain was an innocent baby, too, And I am sure he played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.

And the whole world full of the children of men, Have all of them played that game since then.

Kings and princes and beggars, too, Every one has played peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.

Thief and robber and ruffian bold, The crazy tramp and the drunkard old,

All have been babies who laughed and knew How to hide, and play peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo.

THE FALLING OF THRONES

Above the din of commerce, above the clamour and rattle Of labour disputing with riches, of Anarchists' threats and groans, Above the hurry and hustle and roar of that bloodless battle, Where men are fighting for riches, I hear the falling of thrones.

I see no savage host, I hear no martial drumming, But down in the dust at our feet lie the useless crowns of kings; And the mighty spirit of Progress is steadily coming, coming, And the flag of one republic abroad to the world he flings.

The Universal Republic, where worth, not birth, is royal; Where the lowliest born may climb on a self-made ladder to fame; Where the highest and proudest born, if he be not true and loyal, Shall find no masking t.i.tle to cover and gild his shame.

Not with the bellow of guns and not with sabres whetting, But with growing minds of men is waged this swordless fray; While over the dim horizon the sun of royalty, setting, Lights, with a dying splendour, the humblest toiler's way.

HER LAST LETTER

Sitting alone by the window, Watching the moonlit street, Bending my head to listen To the well-known sound of your feet, I have been wondering, darling, How I can bear the pain, When I watch, with sighs and tear-wet eyes, And wait for your coming in vain.

For I know that a day approaches When your heart will tire of me; When by door and gate I may watch and wait For a form I shall not see; When the love that is now my heaven, The kisses that make my life, You will bestow on another, And that other will be--your wife.

You will grow weary of sinning (Though you do not call it so), You will long for a love that is purer Than the love that we two know.

G.o.d knows I have loved you dearly, With a pa.s.sion strong as true; But you will grow tired and leave me, Though I gave up all for you.

I was as pure as the morning When I first looked on your face; I knew I never could reach you In your high, exalted place.

But I looked and loved and worshipped As a flower might worship a star, And your eyes shone down upon me, And you seemed so far--so far.

And then? Well, then, you loved me, Loved me with all your heart; But we could not stand at the altar-- We were so far apart.

If a star should wed with a flower The star must drop from the sky, Or the flower in trying to reach it Would droop on its stalk and die.

But you said that you loved me, darling, And swore by the heavens above That the Lord and all of His angels Would sanction and bless our love.

And I? I was weak, not wicked.

My love was as pure as true, And sin itself seemed a virtue If only shared by you.