miiiimiiiiiiiiiiiiHiiiiniiii 
 
 PS 3503 
 
 .0936 
 04 
 1910 
 Copy 1 
 
 ji'<i 
 
 iM 
 
Class 
 
 Book 
 
 GopyiightN°_ 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
The Quest of The Christ 
 in New York ^^W 
 
 JiNT> COSMIC CORALS 
 
 By 
 ^JIIZIE R. BOYLE 
 
 
 BROADWAY PUBLISHING CO., 
 835 Broadway, New York. 
 

 ^ A^^ 
 
 \cxx0 
 
 Copyriglit, 1910, 
 
 by 
 
 VAIZIE R. BOYLE. 
 
 C.Ci.A2:U>333 
 

 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 To THE COURAGEOUS SOULS WHO ARE 
 LISTENING WITH EARS ATTUNED TO THE 
 
 MIGHTY MUSIC OF VIBRANT TRUTH, 
 
 AND WHO ARE PLAYING THE GRAND ROLE OF 
 
 NOBLE SINCERITY in life's theatre 
 
 BY simple loyalty TO THEIR HIGHEST AND 
 HOLIEST CONVICTIONS 
 
 I Dedicate This Little Volume. 
 
PRELUDE. 
 
 Life, mysterious, comes in dreams. 
 In shadow, mist and rain, 
 Elusive, baffling, we search in vain 
 The secret of its pulsing, surging streams. 
 Abstract knowledge sheds no light 
 On its shifting scenes. 
 Conjecture meets abyssmal depths 
 Shared with Science's themes. 
 
 Silent, defiant, aggressive power. 
 Creative force its pregnant dower, 
 Beauty, foulness, virtue, sin, 
 Its prerogatives dwell there-in. 
 Soul of angel, demon's form. 
 Eyes of maiden, wild rose's thorn 
 Unkempt outcast, king on throne 
 Feel ITS THROB, UNSEEN, UNKNOWN. 
 
 Oh! life unending who shall paint 
 Thy myriad attributes in colors quaint, 
 Seraphic bliss and sorrow's taint. 
 Live in Buddha, Christ, Sinner, Saint, 
 As the vapor rides the sun-beam, 
 Returning to the sod. 
 Feeds the tiny rootlets, 
 We term it fecund moisturS, 
 Its PROPER NAME IS God. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The few rhythmic thoughts herein have 
 been suggested through witnessing the kalei- 
 doscopic views of life in New York City. 
 One may safely attest the like contrasts ap- 
 pear in every hamlet and cosmopolitan city 
 on this planet, differing only in intensity and 
 degree. JVe are now in the throes of a 
 spiritual unrest, unsatisfied capacities, and 
 urgent moral wants. Souls are crying for 
 bread, stones no longer will suffice. Who 
 will minister unto the multitude as did the 
 gentle Christ of old? Take an abstract view 
 of the illustration, the lights and shades of 
 the contrasting personalities so well por- 
 trayed by the Artist Mr. TV. J. English and 
 judge for yourselves. 
 
 In offering these leaves to my readers, 
 permit me to say with Ruskin: ''This is the 
 best of me; for the rest, I ate and drank and 
 slept and loved and hated like another, my 
 life was as the vapor and is not; but this I 
 saw and knew, this, if anything of mine, is 
 worth your memory.^* 
 
 The Author. 
 The Rookery, 
 
 Nov. ^rd, igog. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The Quest of The Christ in New York City . .. I 
 
 The Dream of the Red Rose 47 
 
 Cosmic Corals: 
 
 The Home of Ideals ......;.. .. . 63 
 
 The Call of the Wind 64 
 
 In Quest of the Fairies 65 
 
 The Plea of the Soul . . :.. . ...... 66 
 
 A Prayer ............ ... .. ., 67 
 
 The Dual Tone . 68 
 
 The Marriage of Joy ..... ... .. . . . 70 
 
 The Voice of Song . ... ,. ..; ... . -.^ ... i. 73 
 
 Inspiration .>.... 74 
 
 Spinning the Cosmic Robe . . ., > ... .. .. 75 
 
 The Chord of the Choir Invisible . . . . - . 77 
 
 The Betrayal of Mike Grady . . . . . > . 81 
 
 Tones from the Voice of the Wind .. .. .. < . 91 
 
 Twilight Hour 91 
 
 The Song of the Flowers ..... .. >^ . .. 92 
 
 The Song of the Golden-Rod . ,.. . .. ;.. . . 92 
 
 The Poppy's Secret . ,. . . .; j, j.^ .., ... . 93 
 
 The Fairies' Farewell to the Moon. ..... 93 
 
THE QUEST OF THE CHRIST 
 
 IN 
 
 NEW YORK CITY. 
 
Miiniiuiiiiipiiim 
 
 i 
 
 "^SSi^SS^' 
 
 PEACE! BE NOT AFRAID. FOR SUCH AS TIIUU, I LONlJ AND OFT 
 HAVE PRAYED, I AM THE CHRIST." (Sir page. l,S.) 
 
£Xuest of Cf)e Cl^ri0t 
 
 THE QUEST OF THE CHRIST IN 
 NEW YORK CITY. 
 
 Autumn had donned her robe of russet 
 
 brown 
 As a sort of greeting 
 To November whose allotted sands 
 Were softly fleeting, 
 
 And who seemed to view the glowing hue 
 Of Indian's Summer's garb 
 With chill resentment, 
 Annoyed that any of Nature's children 
 Should look on the encroachments of the 
 
 Icy King 
 With contentment. 
 Along the shore the lapping wave 
 Intoned its song in metre grave. 
 Twinkling lights from the moored vessels 
 
 gave 
 A weird, wild beauty to the Waters of the 
 
 Bay 
 In whose rocking arms 
 The City of New York lay. 
 
 Misty shadows o'er the sky-light crept 
 Where rosy Twilight on Day's bosom wept 
 
jClue0t of C6e €6rf$t 
 
 Soft, Intermittent tears grieving 
 
 For the passing glory of the Sun 
 
 Whose opal splendor 
 
 Mingling with the clouds, had spun 
 
 A veil of unearthly beauty 
 
 Shimmering gold and green, 
 
 As if the form of disrobing Day 
 
 From Night's approach would screen. 
 
 The Wind was sweet as a mother's croon 
 
 To sleeping babe 
 
 Till white-caps rode on the surging wave 
 
 Telling of storm on the ocean's breast, 
 
 Then sang with wild unrest 
 
 A challenge to the storm 
 
 To do its best. 
 
 Clouds came lowering at the Wind's behest. 
 Ragged, rumbling, with dread lightning 
 
 shod, 
 Roars of thunder echoed far and wide 
 Like wraiths of laughter to deride 
 Puny man shivering with fear 
 At the mad storm's nod 
 Yet, whose feeble intellect, and o'erweenlng 
 
 pride 
 The power of God In Nature 
 Would proscribe. 
 
 Oh ! that man would strive to grow 
 E'en as a flower groweth 
 En-rapport with Nature, 
 
 2 
 
in Jl^eto gotk Citp 
 
 In pregnant faith and dew-laden hope 
 Knowing, that all her laws doth precurse 
 The secret of the Universe. 
 
 A hurrying, scurrying herd of humanity 
 
 Rushed to the waiting boats 
 
 Thoughts on home were bent, 
 
 Trusting to an inward hope 
 
 The fierce storm would relent, 
 
 Leave the land In peace and on the sea 
 
 Its raging fury vent. 
 
 Holding aloof from the strenuous throng 
 
 Was a youth, calm, serene, from whose eyes 
 
 Flashed a gleam of mirth 
 
 Revealing, that In his view of things, 
 
 Of sunshine, was no dearth. 
 
 "Ye gods of war I What ails the maddened 
 
 crowd 
 Of rain to be afraid I 
 Such helter, skelter, soon to swelter 
 'Neath the ferry's shade. 
 You'd think that every mother's son 
 From cane-stalk juice was made." 
 
 "Oh I Mother Nature, glorious queen, 
 
 I thank thy wondrous power 
 
 Thy smiles, thy tears, thy fruitful years 
 
 Alternate sun and shower; 
 
 Rain and mist, thy love hath kissed 
 
 Into a radiant flower 
 
 3 
 
jCtue^t of Cfte €fjris;t 
 
 Ever blooming in my heart, 
 
 Effulgent joy its dower 
 
 Of fragrance passing sweet, 
 
 That all along life's dusty highways 
 
 Noisome weeds I meet. 
 
 Yet, fair and foul alike I greet. 
 
 Above all ills I tower, glad to know 
 
 That pain and bliss, alike, aroma throw, 
 
 And blend in the chalice from which we quaff 
 
 Life's nectar. In thy sun-kissed fields 
 
 Is found pure Wisdom's bread 
 
 So to the Wind's wild play 
 
 I fling the fluffy chaffy 
 
 Of time's puerile praise or jeer 
 
 And greet each day 
 
 With loving, grateful cheer." 
 
 "Ach sol Ere Night hangs low her sable 
 
 tents 
 A vigil must I keep 
 With sea-breeze brine and thus entwine 
 Health's garland while I sleep. 
 But — who stands there, quite debonnair 
 Close to the water's edge? 
 By m' troth! 'tis a form whose line of 
 
 symmetry 
 In truth divine 
 Worthy a sculptor's wedge 
 To chisel in marble and thus portray 
 A man who looks a victor 
 4 
 
in Ji3cto gotfe Citp 
 
 Triumphant over clay. 
 
 He has an air bespeaking rare culture 
 
 Admixing intellect with seraphic spirit, 
 
 Not usually classed indigenous 
 
 To the clime of our commercial town. 
 
 His bearing, calm^ dignity worthy a crown 
 
 No doubt, a foreign prince traveling incog 
 
 Desirous to view and its ways to construe 
 
 The town as he sees it, 
 
 From sunshine to fog." 
 
 Close to the sea wall was another form 
 
 Searching, with uplifted face, 
 
 The troubled sky, as tho' sweet lineaments 
 
 Of peace to trace 
 
 On the stern, grim visage of the Storm King 
 
 Who might cease to frown 
 
 And withdrew his cloud-enveloped Warriors 
 
 From the town. 
 
 So the story runs — This was a Seraph bright 
 
 Returned from realms of Light 
 
 Won by valorous deeds; 
 
 Unto his fellow men while life's sands ran 
 
 He proved a friend in need. 
 
 The gende Christ and he had come 
 
 In quest of a Church healing, 
 
 Thought-power, and God in Nature reveal- 
 
 ^ng, 
 Where souls might grow, free from the 
 
 grasp 
 
£tue0t of Cbe Cf)ri0t 
 
 Of Superstition's morbid greed. 
 
 "Perhaps, I may be of service, 
 
 Writers tell that "Hospitality is 
 
 The flower of culture," 
 
 It cannot be amiss to greet the stranger, 
 
 Altho I court the danger 
 
 Of being classed as a man-vulture 
 
 Birds of prey who lead astray 
 
 And pounce on the unwary traveller, 
 
 However, I'll take some chances, 
 
 A few advances, on my own "recognances." 
 
 Pardon; I trust I seem not rude. 
 
 Nor do I wish self or services to Intrude 
 
 Save, as thou, thyself cares to receive. 
 
 On thy gentle presence and mien of high 
 
 import -v '- 
 An auriole of dignity, disdaining 
 Unwelcome advances, doth disport, 
 Hence, Idle curiosity is relegated 
 To the officious herd 
 Who with idle prattle and unseemly haste 
 Will ask. names ? nation? absurd! 
 As tho' a man were at the beck and nod 
 Of these exclamations? so-called men 
 In lieu of mere explicit, evoluted term 
 Known to science's ken." 
 
 "Here's my card, a simple bard 
 A trifle known to fame, 
 6 
 
in j^eU) gorfe €itp 
 
 To Truth, to my fellow man, in tender love 
 
 I consecrate my name; 
 
 A lover I of land and sky 
 
 Of wind, of mist, of rain, 
 
 And of all the wondrous phantasma 
 
 In Nature's vast domain. 
 
 At this sweet season of Earth's year 
 
 Again my youth renews. 
 
 Yon sky holds life's elixir 
 
 In its gorgeous sun-set views. 
 
 I feel the throes of beauty's birth 
 
 Within my inmost soul 
 
 Glad Joy fills me with ecstatic mirth 
 
 O'er which, I've no control; 
 
 I fain would dance, and cheer, and sing, 
 
 To the laughing Vv^ind 
 
 Life's shadows fling 
 
 To the sea I come when day's task is done 
 
 To watch the setting of the glorious sun, 
 
 When I saw thee stand in 
 
 The pouring rain 
 
 Your soul, I felt, sang with mine 
 
 A glad refrain. 
 
 The stranger bowed and smiled; 
 
 "Thanks my cheerful friend, the fates for- 
 
 fend 
 That I should look with ill 
 On your courtesy proffered; 
 Poor indeed, the creed or code 
 7 
 
£lue0t of C6e €hti$t 
 
 That would with suspicion or ingratitude 
 
 corrode 
 A kindness thus offered. 
 Earth holds no sweeter, purer gift 
 Than the tiny rift made by Intuition 
 Thru the veil that screens one soul from 
 
 another, 
 By which we see, and hear, views, tones, 
 
 perfect, 
 Consonant, which draw one nearer, 
 As to a brother 
 
 With a tie, stronger, more soul-felt than if 
 We claimed the selfsame mother 
 I came here to view the passing glory 
 Of the orb of day, 
 I await a friend, my stay will end 
 When the Morning Star greets Earth 
 With its tender ray.' 
 
 Poets have freakish natures, 
 
 Alternate sun and shade, grief and joy, 
 
 Pain and bliss come with the kiss of the 
 
 Muse 
 Who doth the Imagination Infuse 
 With Fancy's decoction, until narcotic-like 
 One becomes imbued with ideals, visions, 
 
 dreams; 
 Facts wear an aspect whose ephemeral hues 
 Change with each passing wind, 
 8 
 
in i^eUJ gork (^it^ 
 
 So doth the view of men and things 
 Fluttering with Time's translucent wings 
 Vary as the tints of the chameleon 
 In the windows of the Mind. 
 Friendship, to me is divine, sexless, 
 High above the mating instinct 
 Falsely termed loz-e, a libel thru which pas- 
 sion 
 Slanders the source of all created good. 
 Drawing its victims thru that holy name; 
 Love's array is pure, Its light a brilliant 
 
 flame. 
 Passion guides to devious ways 
 Its torch is wreathed in smoke-mist, 
 Ofttimes, its garb is nameless shame." 
 
 "Thou art, as I supposed, a stranger, 
 Egad! I'd be awfully glad 
 A good time on thee to bestow 
 If you'll give me the right 
 I'll show thee the sights of the town 
 Of New York in a row. 
 Of the house, we're the steeple 
 Time's built for the people 
 Who live out their lives by the Western 
 
 Seas, 
 By word and example, 
 We're a pretty fair sample 
 Of all who must hustle and bustle for bread, 
 Life seems one long patching 
 
 
jClue0t of ^bt Cf)ri0t 
 
 Of hatching and scratching 
 
 From the time we arise, till Night finds us 
 
 abed, 
 'TIs tolling and moiling, the driver, the 
 
 driven, 
 Aye, both of them sweet. 
 Mad racing and pacing in anxious endeavor 
 The money to get 
 
 For bills of the butcher, the baker. 
 Then comes undertaker, the last bill 
 The biggest of all to be met. 
 Life's ills we endure 
 For naught can allure the Natives away 
 From this Island of Fret." 
 
 An April mixture, this town of ours 
 
 'Tis tears and joys, life's rain, 
 
 Sunshine, and blessed showers. 
 
 A chaotic masquerade at which 
 
 Poverty and Wealth alike parade 
 
 Their unkempt form.s from which grace is 
 
 shorn 
 By disordered, flagrant show. 
 Wealth thrusts her surplus like a cruel jade, 
 In the face of those 
 
 Whose rags of poverty are oftimes made 
 Thru the lust of Greed 
 That prays in the sunlight and robs in the 
 
 shade. 
 Idleness, Mendicancy and Vice 
 
 10 
 
in il^eto gork Citp 
 
 All three walk forth bearing traces 
 
 Of ill-directed mind 
 
 On whose sodden, sullen faces 
 
 Is writ the scroll of feebleness of the will, 
 
 Pointing clear that in their souls 
 
 Lofty purpose, or dreams of a higher life 
 
 Meet no responsive thrill." 
 
 A smile of ineffable beauty 
 
 Passed o'er tb^ angel's face 
 
 Like unto a mist, a tinge of sadness 
 
 Lent an added grace, 
 
 Sympathy for the gentle Christ whose love 
 
 for human-kind 
 Was boundless as the surging sea 
 Or the path of the roving wind. 
 Vain had been the quest, 
 They wandered East and West, 
 From North to South and felt the drouth 
 As a simoon from the desert 
 Ccnsum.es its victim's life. 
 Strife, Grab and Greed had sown rank seed, 
 The air with lust was rife; 
 Saw numerous edifices, i. e., Volumes of 
 
 Theology 
 Bound-in-stone editions 
 Erroneously titled "The House of God" 
 Where loud Dogma's Voice 
 Its laws in grev/some awe proclaimed, 
 haws which left no choice, 
 II 
 
£lu05t Of Cf)e C6ti$t 
 
 No freedom of the Intellect or the will; 
 
 The mocking phantoms of Don't and Must 
 
 Sought with fear the heart to fill, 
 
 As tho' they tried, the warmth of Love's liv- 
 ing flame " 
 
 To chill with threats of hell-fire shame. 
 
 Morals, ethics, Reason's right to search. 
 
 Must blind obey the mandate of a tyrant's 
 sway, 
 
 Ancient Superstition's moribund Dust, 
 
 On thru the streets of Commerce 
 
 The Nation's pride and joy 
 
 Massive structures silhouetted 
 
 Against the azure sky, 
 
 Vast piles of iron, steel and stone 
 
 Built, the elements to defy 
 
 By minds, ostrich-like burying heads in sand 
 as tho' 
 
 Time's relentless hand could ne'er lay low 
 
 Mountains of earth-craft, aye, tho' the sum- 
 mits 
 
 Were crowned by Alpine snow. 
 
 Men, like ants, build their tiny hills 
 
 Decked with architectural frills 
 
 Then, rushing, crushing, In and out they go 
 
 Burden-bearing, striving for what or why? 
 
 "Oh!" exclaimed the Christ, 
 
 "Why all this unseemly haste? 
 
 12 
 
in Jl^eto gork €itj^ 
 
 Why all this fruitless effort and excessive 
 
 waste 
 Of priceless energy and health 
 To procure things, trifles, baubles, 
 Bubbles, so-called wealihf" 
 
 Heard the roar of Wall Street 
 
 High Finance's battle ground 
 
 Whose bloodless wars leave fatal scars 
 
 Where quarter is ne'er found. 
 
 Its conscripts come from every clime 
 
 Whose roll is never read 
 
 But, graves that gird the earth around 
 
 Keep the bivouac of its dead. 
 
 Insatiate Greed used Sarcasm's pen 
 
 And termed, with prescience ripe, 
 
 Its wariors "Bulls and Bears," 
 
 And by the synonym thus declare 
 
 ''Minus hoofs and horns or teeth and claws, 
 
 Behold! reversion of type." 
 
 They passed the homes in the crowded lanes 
 Pest-holes of pain, disease and sin, 
 The sweatshop dark, saw the fiery fork 
 Of the pestilential snake thrust its fangs 
 Where hunger's pangs 
 Had left the body bloodless, thin 
 From over-work, impure air, sodden care, 
 And all the chains 
 
 ^That ill-requited labor's forced to wear, 
 13 
 
£tue0t of CJ)e Cl)tist 
 
 Forged on the limbs of Its victims 
 
 By mad, rapacious Gain. 
 
 Did the Christ not know 
 
 Tho 'tis mentioned low 
 
 That the Church will greet 
 
 And fulsome honors meet 
 
 Unto a man whose wealth, 
 
 From Labor's throes 
 
 Was torn and wrung by stealth% 
 
 Saw the sculptured homes 
 Of Music, Art and Song 
 Where lovers of ideals 
 Find solace and sustainment from the throng 
 Of life's besetting ills, 
 Where the Soul of Beauty, radiant, divine. 
 With ecstactic rapture, fills 
 The devotees at her shrine. 
 Smiled at the halls of Mimic Life 
 Where Com.edy and Tragedy alike portray 
 The ups and downs, 
 The kings, the clowns, 
 One meets on Earth's highway. 
 Perceived the assininities, 
 The vagaries of the "Affinities** 
 The froth of Revel's day 
 Who skip and prance 
 " 'Tis on with the dance I" 
 "We may not live alway!'* 
 The refrain of the Mecca of Folly, 
 14 
 
in Ji^eUj gotk €it^ 
 
 The Festal gay Broadway. 
 
 "Come, let us leave this way or wanton glee, 
 
 It hurts, it wounds my heart 
 
 To feel that 'midst Fashion's throng 
 
 Pure thought is far apart 
 
 From God-made souls who left a home 
 
 Where peace and power are one 
 
 To live on husks, to tread in dust 
 
 And the Light of Wisdom shun. 
 
 To barter gold for rust and mold. 
 
 Pure life for chains and rags, 
 
 For such rewards as Mammon gives 
 
 Which leaves Youth rakes and hags. 
 
 Their eyes shine with the fire of lust 
 
 The breath, 'tis passion's fiam.e, 
 
 The laugh is but the sound of noise, 
 
 'Twould put glad joy to shame. 
 
 Poor souls! Poor souls! Are those the 
 
 shoals 
 Life's pleasure boat m.ust meet? 
 Ah ! better far some lonely star 
 The morning sun to greet!" 
 
 On they pressed 
 
 Until they reached the crest 
 
 Of Wealth's exclusiveness; 
 
 Broad thoroughfares flanked with lordly 
 
 dwellings 
 In ^dvid contrast to the quarters 
 15 
 
£Xue0t of C6e Cfjrigt 
 
 Of the toiling poor. 
 
 *'Oh!" exclaimed the Christ, "How long! 
 
 How long ! must the weaker endure 
 
 When will the brother-hood of man 
 
 Be a tangible thing 
 
 Not a phrase, round which, Preachers 
 
 Figures of rhetoric fling 
 
 Like a vapory mist 
 
 Lifeless as a flower that the 
 
 Chilling frost hath kissed. 
 
 Look on these palatial homes, spacious, 
 
 Quite beyond the dwellers needs, 
 
 Altars of Moloch where the children of their 
 
 brothers 
 Are sacrificed to the demon 
 Of Insatiable Greed!" 
 
 "See, my brother," said the gentle Christ, 
 
 Yon house across the street! 
 
 Therein dwells the soul whom I came, 
 
 From distant heights, to greet. 
 
 A Bishop, learned, versed in canonical lore 
 
 Yet, whose sermons, his listeners ofttimes 
 
 Term, a simple, stupid bore. 
 
 Marvelous at times 
 
 Seems the obtuseness of men's minds 
 
 That they will dare to seek 
 
 With platitudinous speech and cunning 
 
 sophistry 
 To guide the human will 
 i6 
 
in Jl^eto gotk €it^ 
 
 And fail to see their words will never reach 
 
 Nor change the sum-total of ill 
 
 Which trickles down the mountain sides 
 
 Of Civilization, like a murmuring rill 
 
 Voicing Sorrow's wailing thrill. 
 
 Men are much the same 
 
 Tho changed in name 
 
 As those with whom I walked and talked 
 
 By the waves of the Galilean Sea." 
 
 "Do thou return to the shores 
 
 Of the whispering sea, 
 
 When the day-star peeps thru the veil of 
 
 Night 
 We will wing our flight 
 To the realms of light, our home, the 'Choir 
 
 Invisible,' 
 The cosmic vault of Eternity. 
 Earth is fair, divinely fair. 
 To those who earnestly look 
 For the beauty of the pictures rare 
 Found midst the leaves in Nature's book; 
 Those who seek will find 
 Flowers of wondrous fragrance 
 In the garden of the mind. 
 Then why will men sweet serenity rend 
 As hungry vultures doth a harmless dove 
 For works and wealth that do not tend 
 To soul's advance towards God 
 Whose name is Love, 
 17 
 
€luegt of Cfte €bti&t 
 
 Adieu I The morn's first kiss 
 Our quest will end." 
 
 Towering aloft the granite walls 
 
 Seemed to scoff in derision at the moaning 
 wind 
 
 Which whistled shrill and clear 
 
 In tones severe the message of the storm. 
 
 Clouds gathered in the Western sky 
 
 Copper-colored, brown and grey 
 
 Forcing the rosy tints of Eve 
 
 To vanish in dismay 
 
 As the harbingers of the rain clashed and 
 dashed. 
 
 Then, o'er the bier of the dying day 
 
 Swords of lightning flashed. 
 
 Up the marble stairs climbed a form 
 
 Seemingly oblivious of the muttering storm, 
 
 Slender, erect as a cedar tree, 
 
 Whose step bespoke freedom, mastery, vic- 
 tory. 
 
 Above this form of majesty, 
 
 A tower of health and grace, 
 
 Was a brow on which a lofty purpose shone 
 
 And glorified his face. 
 
 From the white-capped menial at the door, 
 Whose face from practice 
 A look of studied insolence wore, 
 i8 
 
in Jl3eto gork Cit? 
 
 A denial, in response to his enquiry, was 
 
 received, 
 "If the Master, at that hour, from duty was 
 
 relieved?" 
 Then, came shrill, sharp comments 
 On a call so late at eve 
 
 As a sort of apology for her effort to deceive. 
 "Woman! cease your ill-timed speech 
 And of your words have care. 
 An entrance to this house I claim 
 Refuse me if you dare! 
 My mission with thy Master is, 
 And this I will demand 
 Hold your peace 
 And clamor cease 
 'Tis thus / HOW command.'* 
 
 Affrighted almost unto death 
 At this display of power 
 The hireling meekly led the way 
 Unto a fairy bower. 
 Where Art and Ease and Music sweet 
 Beguiled away the hour. 
 Before the feast of eve took place 
 In the hall of royal state. 
 Reclining in a velvet chair 
 Robed in silken sheen, 
 A high-bred air, a low toned voice 
 Bespoke the social queen. 
 Her be-jeweled hand, in a soft caress, 
 19 
 
€luc0t of Cl)e €fiti^t 
 
 Touched the head of a tiny dog 
 Who sat in state, and a bon-bon 
 Complacently ate, 
 On a snow-white rug 
 Before the burning log. 
 
 Something, in the stranger's face, 
 
 Restrained her rising ire, 
 
 She rose unnerved, resolved to meet 
 
 And then his name enquire. 
 
 "Pray to whom am 1 indebted for this call? 
 
 My Lord doth seek? 
 
 His library is just across the hall." 
 
 With stately tread and gentle mien 
 
 Thru blooms of flowers rare 
 
 She led the stranger to the room 
 
 Where sat the man of prayer 
 
 Midst vellum-books and sculptured nooks 
 
 All, wearing Wealth's gold brand. 
 
 The intrusion caused an upward look 
 
 Followed by a haughty stare, 
 
 Pushed back his chair 
 
 And rose le seignior grand. 
 
 "Thy quest with me? Pray make it brief, 
 Day's sands are ebbing low, 
 Can I do aught of good for thee? 
 Art victim of sad woe? 
 If alms thou cravest, these, the servitor 
 below 
 
 20 
 
in Jl^eto gotb €ity 
 
 Will deem It a pleasure to bestow." 
 
 The stranger answered with a bow, 
 
 And a smile of mute denial 
 
 As if he would, forsooth 
 
 Make of the stately prelate, further trial. 
 
 "Nay! Kind sir; I ask no gold, 
 
 No meat, no drink, of these 
 
 I have scant need. 
 
 Nor do I ask for raiment's rags 
 
 To shield me from the breeze. 
 
 Speech with thee on matters 
 
 Of deep import I crave, 
 
 A message I bring to thee 
 
 From realms beyond the grave*' 
 
 "Of a truth, thou'rt mad! 
 
 Man who art thou? the hour is late 
 
 Yet, an inward, subtle something 
 
 Impels me to ask that 
 
 Thou wilt thy message state. 
 
 Much patience has one in my position 
 
 I'o bring into requisition 
 
 To endure ills we fain would delegate 
 
 Lesser shoulders to bear. 
 
 High station has its draw-backs, 
 
 Moths infest and so consume 
 
 The purple which we wear. 
 
 Just a moment, until I change 
 
 The hour at which we dine 
 
 As at any deviation there-from 
 
 21 
 
£IXnt$t of Clje Cf)ri0t 
 
 Servants will repine." 
 
 The conversation below 
 
 Will clearly describe the respect 
 
 Servants bestow on any interference 
 
 Causing a pleasure or outing to forego. 
 
 "The Master's mad as an ould March hare I 
 
 This I do declare, 
 
 Now, John, don't blink 
 
 But, what do you think 
 
 Of the news the cook tould me? 
 
 We know the Master dines at seven, 
 
 But ordhers came down 
 
 With a snarl and a frown 
 
 'To-night he'd ate at eleven/ 
 
 1 tell you 'tis quare. 
 
 And to this I will sware 
 
 A warning hangs over this house, 
 
 A sob an' a sigh 
 
 I feel I could cry, 
 
 John, keep as still as a mouse. 
 
 Plase God if I live until sunrise to-morrow 
 
 To six o'clock mass, I'll be off 
 
 To see Father Ned 
 
 And get out of me head 
 
 This horrible night-mare of sorrow. 
 
 I tell you John Quinn 
 
 What I say is no sin. 
 
 That man must he God in disguise 
 
 The fire in his eyes like a flash 
 
 22 
 
in Ji^eto gorfe €iti^ 
 
 From the skies 
 
 Pierced me bones and the marrow within." 
 
 "I ask, my friend, will you kindly lend 
 
 Your aid a quest to find, 
 
 So many spires my vision tire 
 
 And quite confuse the mind. 
 
 A church I seek where Love doth speak 
 
 In words of living fire 
 
 Where the music of the soul's vibration 
 
 Is attuned with seon's lyre, 
 
 The harp that in yon cosmos vault 
 
 Doth gleam and glow 
 
 Its quiv'ring strings 
 
 All joy and sorrow know; 
 
 Deep-toned harmonies of stars and lands 
 
 unknown 
 Sweep down the cycle's path 
 And touch with mystic fingers 
 I'his harp called life, 
 Awakes the silent soul of trees and rills 
 And to the throbs of human hearts in pain 
 Sing softly, 'Peace ! Be still !' 
 
 "Be not deceived, 
 I seek not a church where the 
 Soul sits disconsolate, bereaved, 
 Far from its Father's home 
 Where power and love both dwell, 
 Where waves of joy the sea of life doth 
 swell 
 
 23 
 
IXuesft of Clje Cbrist 
 
 In unison with the rythmic breath, 
 
 The voice of hfe, immortal spirit 
 
 Freed from sensual death. 
 
 The church I seek, 
 
 No annals reek 
 
 With the blood of victims slain 
 
 By Superstition's darts. 
 
 Where Peace serene reigns as a queen 
 
 Within the sacred portals 
 
 Of the pilgrim's heart. 
 
 No dies irae dirge is moaned 
 
 Where joy's clear anthem is entoned, 
 
 Faith and hope feed the incense fire 
 
 The breath of prayer has swung 
 
 Midst isles unseen 
 
 Thru flesh's dark screen, 
 
 Where God and man are one. 
 
 "One question more, 
 Altho undue encroachment on your 
 Time and patience I quite deplore. 
 To-day's searching revealed many things 
 In the present civilization quite 
 Paradoxical stripped of the hue 
 Which nearness of vision is wont to imbue. 
 You build hospitals, asylums, orphan schools 
 Which you fill 
 
 With afflicted humanity suffering 
 From various forms of ill; 
 Bestow tenderness, kindness, rare medical 
 skill, 
 
 24 
 
in Ji3eto gork €itv 
 
 Now, If life be so precious, 
 
 Why send men forth to kill? 
 
 What means these war-ships' swelling pride 
 
 That on the breast of ocean rides? 
 
 Doth bear glad tidings of great 
 
 Joy and peace for which 
 
 The meek Christ died? 
 
 Do men v/Ith belching cannon greet 
 
 The God whose name is Love? 
 
 Oh! Power and Greed thou art the seed 
 
 Of Hypocrisy hand In glove with Hate 
 
 Masquerading as Commerce, 
 
 Patriotism and Zeal for the Common W^eal 
 
 That binds the Church and State.'' 
 
 "Verily! thou art a dreamer 
 A vivid painter of words 
 Still, if truth be told in my heart 
 Deep emotion is stirred. 
 In these statements, power, wisdom. 
 Culture Is readily Inferred, 
 But, orthodox Religion has Its tenets, 
 Its canons, Its Laws 
 By which souls are governed, 
 Great danger of heresy, 
 Infringements on accepted truths 
 Uttering such, may be incurred. 
 Without authority there would be no obe- 
 dience 
 Either to Church or State, 
 
 25 
 
£lue0t of C!)e €tn$t 
 
 All would be chaos, 
 
 Humanity like unto a wind-tossed straw, 
 
 Remedial measures would come, perhaps, 
 
 too late. 
 To speak thus without authority is absurd, 
 Dogma's foundation rests on the Bible 
 God's revealed JFord." 
 
 "Thou speakest of Authority, 
 
 Whence its origin? commission forsooth! 
 
 Can it set its seal on Vvving truth? 
 
 Place its finger on the hidden, yet 
 
 Manifesting, throbbing pulse of life? 
 
 Soothe the yearnings, longings 
 
 Self-consuming strife 
 
 Within the inner-inner-most soul. 
 
 The desire of the atom to merge itself 
 
 With Being's deifical fFholef 
 
 Nay! nay! Dogma's sway 
 
 Is of the human mind. 
 
 Its rigidity proves its cloy, of earth. 
 
 Proclaims it non-existent with the 
 
 Illimitable inflatus of the divine power 
 
 Which breathes thru all there is, there was, 
 or tcill be; 
 
 You cannot label God, Dogma forges fet- 
 ters, 
 
 God is Truth and Truth is ever free." 
 
 "Wordliness holds men's souls 
 
in ii3eUi gotk Cit? 
 
 Chained to the wheels of fate, 
 
 Intellectuality with spiritual power 
 
 Does not always mate; 
 
 The cares of me and mine 
 
 Are like will-o'-the-wisps that shine 
 
 O'er swamps and bogs 
 
 And hidden logs 
 
 Alluring the unwary footsteps of the 
 
 Traveller into dismal mire. 
 
 The man who would be free 
 
 Unveiled must see 
 
 A chain of life in which 
 
 Each soul is but a link 
 
 Interwoven, interlaced 
 
 In which composite material alike is traced. 
 
 None greater, stronger more nor less 
 
 Than the weakest in that chain 
 
 To bear a stress." 
 
 Art not aware that Time's ascending stair 
 
 Leads to heights and depths 
 
 Beyond the red sun's glare? 
 
 Ihat countless millions of solar systems 
 
 Pulsing with life were flung 
 
 Afar into space 
 
 Their orbits to trace 
 
 Before the music of this 
 
 Verdant earth was sung? 
 
 Will Dogma claim that conscious man 
 
 Is but a span 
 
 27 
 
£lue0t of Cf)e €btin 
 
 Of life from a cradle 
 
 To a tomb ? 
 
 This master-piece of soul and will 
 
 From Thought's prolifiic womb?" 
 
 ''Science is still in swaddling clothes, 
 
 Its feet has not yet trod 
 
 The labyrinth of Nature's Church 
 
 The only road to God; 
 
 Midst learned chaos of pros and cons 
 
 On one point all agree, 
 
 The source of life is still unknown 
 
 In bird, in man, in tree. 
 
 To children's eyes the pictures look 
 
 Far greater than the book 
 
 So lost in beauty's color-schemes ^ j^ 
 No reading lines they'll brook, 
 Great truths are forcedto_Jis_iuiiie5.d, un- 
 sought,- ^ "'- 
 
 Tho' writ in gold 
 
 Dug from Wisdom's endless mines 
 
 Thru cycles's toil untold." 
 
 "What manner of speech is this? 
 Who art thou that questions thus? 
 Does no fear of Dogma's frown 
 Cause thee to desist from this 
 Unholy flux of words questioning 
 Into the affairs of church and state? 
 Illusions of some low-born mendicant 
 28 
 
in Jl^eto gctk Cit? 
 
 Whose mental calibre fails to rate 
 
 The value of the intellectual few 
 
 Whose efforts, with tables of beneficence, 
 
 The ways of life bestrew, 
 
 At which, I ween, thyself 
 
 Have oftimes sate. 
 
 Perilous, indeed, and great the need 
 
 Of stern repression 
 
 If authority and awe 
 
 Are found with flaw 
 
 And the ice of indifference, 
 
 Formed by men's reason, 
 
 From their hearts 
 
 Has ceased to thaw." 
 
 *'Pardon, one word, Reason's prerogative 
 To search, to find 
 
 Truth — pure from the fountain-head 
 The Universal Mind, 
 To test the laws, to find the flawr 
 If any, in intellectual bread, 
 Wouldst stultify the soul 
 With a phantom of dread? 
 Wouldst nullify and dare to set at naught 
 Laws thru which worlds are framed 
 By God in Nature wroug'it 
 In her Church of Silence? 
 Laws with dominant justice fraught 
 From whose transgression 
 None has bought reprieve 
 29 
 
£lue0t of Clje Cfirist 
 
 Tho' unto blood they grieve 
 
 Effect ivill follow cause, 
 
 From atom's cell to radiant star 
 
 The Universal Soul of God 
 
 Dwells not afar. 
 
 Reason, Science, Freedom of the fVill 
 
 Before the portals of this church 
 
 May safely pause 
 
 Superstition does not recognize such laws." 
 
 "Aye, when Reason's hour of triumph comes 
 And the Inner-self reveals 
 All Dogma's canting lore and laws 
 Its inherent power repeals. 
 Who'll dare to bind with chains 
 The man who wears the victor's wreath 
 And leans on Wisdom's staff? 
 Who'll dare to offer for the bread of life 
 Unwholesome, worthless chaff 
 By your works you're known 
 And the seed you've sown 
 By the cause is scattered wide, 
 Its effect is pride 
 And your lives are tied 
 As slaves to Wealth's mad greed. 
 Ye barter self for power and pelf 
 And Wisdom's Truths deride, 
 As ye sow, ye reap 
 The' ye slumber deep 
 »Th.e law is ne'er defied." 
 30 
 
in 5!5cto gotk €itv 
 
 The laws of life demand unerring justice 
 
 From which is no reprisal, 
 
 Hence the constant strife 
 
 Which is always rife 
 
 Twixt Nature's elements evolving as they 
 rise 
 
 From sea-slime atom to seraphic brain 
 
 Or whirling worlds In skies. 
 
 Soul in substance works its way 
 
 In darkness towards light, 
 
 Aeon's unknown book 
 
 Has the record of Its fight 
 
 Against stupendous odds 
 
 For in the form of dual man 
 
 ^ ies ill-propelling, demon seed 
 
 With the attributes of God. 
 
 Each atvom soul stands alone 
 
 A world within a world 
 
 His body, a fortress Is, and banners are un- 
 furled 
 
 Telling the kind of soldiery 
 
 Within its gates. 
 
 The aims, the loves, the hates, 
 
 For, "as a man thinketh in his heart so 
 is he." 
 
 "Wouldst speak with genuine authority, 
 The Voice of living Truth? 
 Then preach God is here, is there 
 31 
 
jCtuegt of Cf)e Ci)ti0t 
 
 Is everywhere 
 
 In all, His Soul, is sun, 
 
 That heaven's kingdom is within each breast 
 
 An entrance may be won 
 
 By thought so pure 
 
 That it must allure 
 
 All good from the cosmic store. 
 
 That now is all the time there is 
 
 Eternal evermore ; 
 
 For time is but the pregnant wind that blows 
 
 Outside the cycle's door. 
 
 Throw open wide your churches 
 
 And preach the power of thought. 
 
 Your sermons will out-rival 
 
 The greatest marvels wrought. 
 
 Teach thy listeners to enter Nature's Church 
 
 And worship with the flowers, 
 
 Baptized in dew, within a leafy pew, 
 
 God hears the faintest prayer. 
 
 Nature needs no spectre to prove her rights 
 
 divine 
 No night is there 'tis noon-day's glare 
 Her laws and God are one." 
 
 Join the heroic souls 
 The watchmen of the night 
 Found on the turrets of the breast-works 
 Midst the roaring of truth's fight; 
 Not the craven camp-followers 
 Well prepared for flight. 
 32 
 
in J^eto gork €itv 
 
 Alas! too often are the ministers of the 
 
 church 
 Clad in Hvery that wealth doth wear 
 To gain such trappings of gilt and glare, 
 Much sophistry doth sow 
 And life's high deeds forswear. 
 Full well they know 
 That pomp and show 
 
 Illusion's veil doth throw o'er minds of men 
 That do not ken 
 
 The height, the depth, the length 
 Of the cycles of the Universe 
 Thru which time's river flows 
 Ever onward to circles wide 
 Sweeping life's splendors, jovs and woes 
 Along its resistless tide. 
 
 "Cease this jargon of 'original sin,' 
 
 Sin's but the shadow of the all-prevading 
 
 goody 
 As from the slime, the filth, the loam 
 Creeps forth the lily's hood 
 Gloom no more its home; 
 Neath the mottled green 
 The white is seen, 
 'Twill soon burst forth in bliss 
 Sublime in faith and courage rare, 
 Behold! its form surpassing fair 
 It breathes its sweetness 
 In the Spring-time's air. 
 2Z 
 
£Xuc0t of Cl)e C!)ti0t 
 
 Tell sad hearts that disease is of 
 
 Sin the fruit, the vent 
 
 Of forces spent with ill intent, 
 
 A synonymn of ill-directed thought 
 
 By which the fruit is brought 
 
 To light in the body's ground 
 
 Thru which the current strays. 
 
 Good or ill, choose as we will 
 
 Such harvest will we raise. 
 
 For, as our thought comrjiands 
 
 And then demands from Will conception, 
 
 Such will be the form we name, 
 
 Be it noble, pure, or shame." 
 
 Nature's Church means Universal Love, 
 It hath no scrolls, no creed, 
 'Tis one with Spirit's inbreathing life 
 Within the lowest seed 
 Lives the soul triumphant o'er 
 Want, environment, death, all. 
 Love knows no great, no small. 
 The Christ principle, awaiting development 
 Which means union of the soul with God, 
 Dwells in the life of the crawling worm, 
 Whose home is neath the sod; 
 Involved, evolved, hidden, shown 
 By which God is known 
 To be in His Universe 
 Love doth bless, not curse. 
 Ye seek for God without, 
 34 
 
in il3eU) gotk Citp 
 
 Accept the manifestation, the shadow In the 
 
 glass 
 Forgetting that effect is only progeny of the 
 
 cause 
 The simple fulfillment of Nature's laws. 
 Ye refuse the knowledge of the Fast Within 
 Whose threshold can ne'er be crossed 
 By cynical, wavering Doubt. 
 Ye measure God by days and years 
 By human passions, hopes and fears 
 By wealth and woe, and dare bestow 
 These wretched attributes on beneficent 
 
 Force 
 Pulsing thru Nature, eternity, Its course." 
 
 Narrow Indeed and warped the creed 
 
 That limits Omnipotence's power 
 
 To saving toilers of this earth, 
 
 A mere atom in the infinite shower 
 
 Of worlds that come and go 
 
 Forced by Love's throes. 
 
 Creation, ever in travail, longing 
 
 As a mother yearns to gaze 
 
 On the lineaments of her conception. 
 
 Mockery! this talk of saving souls. 
 
 Can God lose himself, either whole or part?! 
 
 Human Souls are the progeny of God, 
 
 Individualized Units in the 
 
 Unknowable divine Perception 
 
 Therefore, are neither 
 
 35 
 
£lum of Clje Ci)n0t 
 
 Lost, nor saved, old nor young, 
 Nor by Dogma's intellectual pelf 
 Bought nor sold." 
 
 *'Who art thou, strange visitant 
 
 That dares dispute with me? 
 
 Of High-Church fame, a Bishop's name 
 
 Doth mark the high degree, 
 
 Nor lives a king, nor prince, nor power 
 
 That on my consecrated head 
 
 Rare honors will not shower, 
 
 And deem me of the faith of Christ 
 
 The root, the branch, the flower." 
 
 He paused, awe-struck as the stranger rose. 
 
 A stern look on his face; 
 
 'What, If / say to thee 
 
 That in thy life, 
 
 Be It thine own disgrace 
 
 Of the lowly Christ's love for man,; 
 
 Not one line do I trace. 
 
 Mad prelate in thy lust of life, 
 
 Thy lordly church and wife. 
 
 Thou ne'er will open Love's pure gate 
 
 With pompous power and strife." 
 
 "Thou speakest of the Faith of Christ, 
 
 Who made the demons flee, 
 
 Who healed the sick 
 
 And over death sang resurgam! Victory! 
 
 Are these the fruits 
 
 Z6 
 
in r^etu ^ork Citp 
 
 Of thy ministerial power? 
 Doth from thy hands 
 Flow the healing shower? 
 If so, then 'tis true, thou art 
 A root, a branch, a flower, 
 But, if these gifts from thee do not emanate, 
 In vain your creeds, 
 
 The power of the Christ knows no limita- 
 tions 
 His words proved true in deeds, 
 'I and the Father are one,' 
 The Spirit, Soul and life of the Christ 
 Proclaim Love's manifesting, 
 The Father pro-creating in the Son. 
 
 "Christ's Church had for a roof, 
 The dome of the star-gemmed sky. 
 For a bell. 
 
 The murmurs of a brook 
 That thru the vale sang well; 
 For the organ chant 
 At which pelf plays, 
 The Music of the Wind 
 Which softly strays 
 
 From cosmic heights, and in its balmy breath 
 Brings a message to mankind. 
 Small need has soul whose feet are led 
 By the torch of the Flame of Love. 
 Of bells and chants 
 To guide to the heights above 
 27 
 
£\ue0t of Cf)e C6ri0t 
 
 The vales of dross 
 
 That doth engross 
 
 The minds of men with petty, selfish views. 
 
 Who shall measure God 
 
 With pounds or pence, 
 
 Or tell us whence 
 
 Cometh the plastic force in the radiant hues 
 
 Of pre-existing beauty, 
 
 Evolving from the formless to the form 
 
 That doth, with wordless loveliness, 
 
 The petals of a flower adorn?" 
 
 "The Church of Christ 
 Had no chancel rail, no cushioned pew, 
 He preached in God's own wold 
 Truths (not to a selected few)^ 
 In words of living gold. 
 The Sermon on the Mount 
 Few lines will count 
 The Message long and wide 
 That tells in tones unmistakable 
 The way of life 
 That will decide 
 If, in deed and truth 
 fpe love our fellow-man. 
 To Flis church came the good, the ill, 
 The lowly poor, the leper thin. 
 The blind, the deaf, the lame. 
 The scarlet woman in her self-accusing 
 shame ; 
 
 38 
 
in H^eto gork Citp 
 
 Nor did He seek to win 
 
 With words of honeyed sweetness, 
 
 The pharisee from his sin 
 
 Of greed, of pelf, of power, 
 
 That in his zeal to further weal 
 
 He would with gold endower 
 
 A lofty hall, so-called a church 
 
 In which he comes to pray 
 
 In accents loud and manner proud 
 
 7 love my God, and God loves ME' 
 
 And yet the crowd, in sorrow bowed 
 
 He hath no eyes to see." 
 
 "Avaunt! this idle talk of 
 Atonement found thru Christ, 
 At-one-ment is the vital, potent word 
 By which redeeming power is stirred; 
 As if the blood of Christ 
 Could stop the flow of free-will, 
 The sap in life's gigantic tree. 
 Man, unto himself, a savior is. 
 Himself, alone can free, 
 His life doth heaven or hell contain, 
 Tabor or Calvary. 
 His thought doth hind 
 Or doth unwind 
 
 The chains his will hath wrought. 
 Cease this senseless rant 
 This puerile cant, 
 
 T'm saved by the blood of the Iamb!' 
 39 
 
£luc0t of C6e Cl)n'0t 
 
 Blood can neither save nor damn." 
 
 "Man 1 thou blasphemeth ! Hold thy peace I 
 
 Thou temptest God! 
 
 Dost dare impugn established truth 
 
 Nor fear Chastisement's rod? 
 
 "Hast thou, in uttering such 
 
 Strange, fantastic doctrine, 
 
 [At which, I pause for breath, 
 
 Hast thou, again, I ask mad visitant 
 
 Hast thou no fear of death?" 
 
 Sweet was the voice as a sea-wave's moan, 
 
 Filled with music breathing tender melody, 
 
 Yet, its modulation was threnetic, 
 
 A throbbing, subtle, low undertone 
 
 Voicing a song prophetic 
 
 Of a coming sorrow 
 
 Unto that household that ere 
 
 The dawning of the morrow 
 
 Would shroud itself in gloom. 
 
 Grieving for a life vanished. 
 
 Hidden, in Eternity's womb 
 
 Where preparatory for a new birth 
 
 Higher, holier, by past experience better 
 
 equipped 
 New duties to assume. 
 "Friend, Shrouds and graves 
 Do not fetter the freedom of the soul, 
 Dust says not to spirit 
 40 
 
in H^eto J^otk €it^ 
 
 */ am the end and goal.' 
 
 "There is no death, 'Tis the soul emerging 
 
 From an outgrown shell, 
 
 'Tis a veil of change 
 
 That doth arrange 
 
 Into more perfect copy the story 
 
 Each individual life must tell 
 
 Of sea-slime fused into wondrous pearl, 
 
 Of tints surpassing fair, 
 
 Of weary wandering to and fro 
 
 To find the path that leads 
 
 To the oasis of peace that 
 
 Springs from Joy's pure well. 
 
 Deeds are the mile-stones of life 
 
 Hewn from Thought's granite quarry, 
 
 Some hew chips, pebbles, anon a block 
 
 Worthy admittance to the mason's stock, 
 
 With which more stately temples 
 
 Of the soul arise 
 
 To rear their turrets in eternal skies." 
 
 "There is a flower that bloometh 
 
 In the garden of the soul, 
 
 Its bulb contains the Spirit 
 
 The aeons doth unfold, 
 
 'Tis watered by the dew of holy tears 
 
 From the eyes of loving sympathy. 
 
 Nurtured by the loam 
 
 Of fruitful, well-spent years; 
 
 41 
 
jClueist of Cbe Cfttist 
 
 Lifts Its gorgeous beauty 
 In the shadows of Eartn s night, 
 Breathes its rarest fragrance 
 In the morn of pure dehght. 
 Its name? Immortahty, 
 Deathless, quenchless light 
 Guides the unfurlment of its petals 
 Despite the frosts, the blight. 
 Unto a radiant, perfect flower, 
 Eternal bloom its rightJ^ 
 
 As the tender voice vibrated ^ 
 Like a harp in the moaning wind, 
 A tone of wondrous music 
 Pierced the churchman's troubled mmd; 
 A shadowy, subtle essence 
 Pervaded the gorgeous room. 
 The prelate started to his xeet, 
 He felt the message from the tomb. 
 Entranced, he gazed at the m.ystic hght^ 
 Encircling the stranger's brow, 
 "In the name of God I now demand 
 Tell me, who art thouf 
 Divine, majestic rose the form 
 With awe-inspiring grace. 
 Like snow transfused his garments, 
 Rare perfume left its trace. 
 A smile, seraphic in Its splendor 
 Illumined the God-like face 
 A tone, soul-thrilling in its power 
 43 
 
In i^eto gork Cftp 
 
 Whispered, "Peace! Be not afraid! 
 
 For such as thou, I long and oft have prayed 
 
 / am the Christ.' 
 
 (finis.) 
 
 « 
 
THE DREAM OF THE 
 RED ROSE. 
 
£Xue0t of Cf)e CScist 
 
 THE DREAM OE (THE RED ROSE. 
 
 When the dewdrops of June-time 
 
 Were glistening at morn 
 
 And the lark in the blue vault 
 
 Sang clear, 
 
 A butter-fly, artless, so tender and lorn 
 
 Kissed the brow of a beauteous red rose; 
 
 Then, fluttered appalled 
 
 As if it recalled 
 
 Sad memories of life in Its past 
 
 Of days so perfect in love's radiant hall 
 
 Too fragrant, too joyous 
 
 To last. 
 
 "Thy marvelous incense flung on the breeze 
 Attracted m.y tired wings to thee, 
 A wanderer am I 
 And fain would I lie 
 'Neath the shades of the leaves 
 On thy tree. 
 
 I'm far from my home o'er the billowy deep 
 Phantoms of fear round 
 My pathway doth creep, 
 Visions of danger I see in my sleepy 
 47 
 
Ctuest of Cfie C6ri0t 
 
 Pardon me, Rose, 
 If I weep." 
 
 The canker of sorrow belongs not to thee 
 
 In thy presence all wailing should hush 
 
 Its sad tones discordant and weak 
 
 For, the sign-manual 
 
 Of Love's in thy blush. 
 
 Pray, here let me rest 
 
 The balm from thy breast 
 
 Will, Sorrow's thorn, 
 
 Draw from my heart 
 
 ril tarry awhile 
 
 Thy song will beguile 
 
 The hours until sunlight departs." 
 
 When Earth's shades are creeping, 
 
 And moonbeams are keeping 
 
 A tryst with pale Venus, Love's evening 
 
 star, 
 When the world, tired is sleeping 
 And bright stars are peeping 
 Thru veils of grey mist 
 On yon mountain afar 
 I'll bid thee farewell 
 To search for the dell 
 Fond Hope hath whispered FIl find sweet 
 
 repose, 
 Life's but a journey whose riddle we seek 
 Midst trials and throes, 
 48 
 
in jQetu |?otk Citi? 
 
 'Tls Love holds the secret 
 And Love only knows." 
 
 "Tho' pregnant with sorrow 
 
 May be time's wraith of to-morrow 
 
 A rainbow of joy 
 
 Fills my lone heart with bliss, 
 
 Its memory I'll cherish 
 
 Tho' all else shall perish 
 
 'Tis the thought of the Rose, 
 
 My Earth-love's first kiss. 
 
 A talisman witching, 
 
 A whole life enriching 
 
 With sweetness, the purest 
 
 That life holds in store 
 
 As Love is the essence, the union, the blend-' 
 
 ing 
 In all we term being 
 For time evennore." 
 
 "Oh! stay with me the red Rose cried 
 On darkened clouds the storm-king rides, 
 I'll share with thee my perfume rare 
 And shield thee from the fowler's snare. 
 No lovelier spot on Earth thou'lt find, 
 Sweet music, brings the soft south wind, 
 Dost see yon tall, pure lilly bend 
 Her stately head to greet thee friend?" 
 
 "Nay! nay! to me Love's vision 
 49 
 
£lue0t of Cbe C6ri0t 
 
 Was only given 
 
 To gain the goal for which I've striven 
 
 Midst want and woe 
 
 And still I go 
 
 In quest; 
 
 Nor, until the prize is won, 
 
 I dare not rest; 
 
 A life of ease bespeaks not high endeavor 
 
 In search of Truth that lives forever. 
 
 Pray, urge me not. 
 
 Nor will I disobey 
 
 The call of Duty, it leads upward! onward! 
 
 To the Radiant W ay." 
 
 "Dost know the meaning of thy life? 
 
 This constant warring in stress and strife? 
 
 Tho' thy peerless form 
 
 With rare loveliness be graced, 
 
 Look! at thy stem whose upward path is 
 
 traced 
 With blight and thorns, and marks of many 
 
 stings. 
 The rude assaults of vicious Insects' wings 
 So, must we part 
 
 Tho', with sympathy, beats thy tender heart, 
 Farewell ! dear Rose, I thank thee 
 For thy loving trust in me." 
 
 Night's shades came creeping o'er the hill 
 The rythmic song of the wind was still, 
 50 
 
in ii^eUi gork €it^ 
 
 No tone of harshness 
 Rasped the vibrant air 
 
 All Nature's notes voiced an evening prayer. 
 Midst dreaming trees sang a whip-poor-will 
 In accents pure his mournful thrill, 
 Sweet incense rose from the verdant sod 
 Fragrant balm from, the store-house 
 Wrought by God. 
 
 The smile of Twilight faded to the serious 
 
 night 
 And calm Earth waited on the stars for light 
 That came silver-hued and tender 
 From cosmic heights, 
 Messengers of love to make our dreams 
 
 more bright. 
 Sad must be the human heart 
 If pulsations of the infinite throb 
 Of Nature's life-tones are as things apart, 
 Where Love dwells not 
 A sigh becomes a sob. 
 
 *T love you," said the Lily 
 
 As she gazed upon the Rose, 
 
 *'Thou art the fairest flower 
 
 That in our garden grows. 
 
 Beside thy blushing splendor 
 
 Adorned with dew-drop clear, 
 
 Like a veil of the snow-clad mountain-mist 
 
 My lustre doth appear. 
 
 51 
 
iiClue^t of C{)e Cljri^t 
 
 Thou'rt sad, sweet friend, 
 
 I miss the warmth and glow 
 
 Of the wondrous, soothing fragrance 
 
 At night, thou'rt wont to throw 
 
 Like waves of precious Incense, 
 
 A source of pure dehght; 
 
 Ah ! Rose, dear Rose, do tell me why, 
 
 What makes thee sad to-night?" 
 
 "Sweet thanks, thou tender flowret 
 
 Like sheen of moon-light ray, 
 
 Thy tones, too, are melody 
 
 When at the close of day 
 
 With accents sweet yon star you greet 
 
 To keep a tryst alway, 
 
 His love illumes your petals 
 
 Your beauty holds full sway. 
 
 'Tis true, to-night, Lm overcome 
 
 As when the blinding rain 
 
 Bows low my head with weariness 
 
 And tho' I strive in vain 
 
 Against this o'erwhel'ming sense of loss, 
 
 Nor can I yet explain 
 
 Why? I feel as tho' a canker-worm 
 
 Had robbed me of my gloss." 
 
 Night cast her veil o'er a care-weary world, 
 And banners of darkness were softly un- 
 furled, 
 
 52 
 
in Jl^eU) gorfe Ci'tp 
 
 The flowers of the garden seemed wrapped 
 
 in calm sleep, 
 Vigils of love, star-sentinels keep. 
 The wind crooned an anthem, the dew shed 
 
 a tear 
 A benison, on the brow loved so dear; 
 Low drooped the head of the exquisite Rose 
 Exhaling her perfume, as she goes, mist- 
 
 kissed and fragrant 
 To the realm of repose. 
 
 As threads of film, life's woof 
 
 Unfolds midst her dreams, 
 
 A garment of flesh the soul-atom screens 
 
 A breath! a flash! 
 
 Blood's warm currents dash 
 
 Thru arterial courses 
 
 Awake in life its latent forces. 
 
 Radiantly beautiful, revelling in youth, 
 
 Came the mystical form 
 
 In unspeakable grace, 
 
 Golden-haired, ruby-lipped, blue eyes of 
 
 truth 
 Shone from their depths 
 In the shell-tinted face. 
 
 The morning of life 
 Seemed in Spring's holy time 
 When Nature is breathing 
 Love's pregnant rhyme, 
 
 53 
 
^mist of Clje C6ti0t 
 
 "Resurgam ! resurgam I" the seedlings doth 
 
 hear, 
 Death's Ice King is conquered, 
 Arise! from the bier! 
 Come forth in the sun-light 
 There's nothing to fear! 
 The song-birds are singing 
 A paeon of cheer, 
 
 The wind chants a lullaby to fill with delight 
 The first-born of Spring 
 From the womb of Earth's night." 
 
 Enraptured she wandered, 
 
 Her soul filled with bliss, 
 
 Alone thru the garden where came Love's 
 
 first kiss. 
 "Who am If Whence came I? Whither 
 
 I gof 
 'Tis very perplexing, I'll ask my sweet 
 
 mother, 
 'Tis certain she'll know. 
 The fullest of Earth's gifts 
 I'm happy! so happy! life's passing sweet 
 Are thrown at my feet, 
 Still, I wonder, struggle, striving to know 
 Whence came I hither? JFhither I gof 
 
 Beneath a dome of splendor 
 Where Fame and Beauty trod 
 On tessellated marble, 
 54 
 
Cn Jf^eto gotk Citp 
 
 Here, wealth was held as God. 
 
 Art and Song their voices blended 
 
 And sang a storied rune, 
 
 Culture held the baton, each chord must clear 
 
 attune 
 With harmonic beauty in the symphony of 
 
 the home 
 Where dwelt the wife and daughter 
 Of the noblest man in Rome. 
 
 Perfumed oils shed lustre 
 
 From lamps of silver gleam, 
 
 Rare exotics lent their beauty 
 
 To grace the sumptuous scene 
 
 Where Wealth and Fashion came to gree^ 
 
 The winsome maid, who now must meet 
 
 The duties of high station. 
 
 As her father's only child. 
 
 The guests had all departed, 
 
 Lights were burning low, 
 
 Thru an open window, faint sang a zephyr, 
 
 as tho' 
 It felt Itself intruding 
 Within a holy place; 
 For here, two souls communion held 
 Clasped in fond embrace. 
 Low breathed the tones in accents mild, 
 Perchance, an angel hov'ring near 
 The sweet words over-heard, 
 
 55 
 
Mimt o! C6e CJtfst 
 
 Peaceful heart-throbs two In one, 
 A mother and her child. 
 
 "Oh! mother mine, canst thou divine 
 
 Why things are thus and so? 
 
 This morn at dawn as I wandered forth 
 
 To see the sunrise's glow, 
 
 I saw a form stretched 'neath a tree 
 
 Whose back bent like a bow, 
 
 'Tis true his face beautiful, 
 
 Gentle, clear and mild. 
 
 Did God permit his form to grow 
 
 Gnarled as a tree 
 
 In the forest wild?" 
 
 "And yester-morn when the sun was red. 
 You know where the brooklet sings, 
 I found a tiny yellow bird, dead, 
 A shot had pierced its wing. 
 Did God allow this cruel act? 
 If so, please tell me so, 
 Henceforth, I will not go to church, 
 I love not God, ah! no." 
 
 "My child! my child! why question thus? 
 
 'Tis quite beyond my ken, 
 
 The ways of God mysterious, are not the 
 
 ways of men. 
 We must accept with silent faith 
 Things we do not understand, 
 56 
 
in ii^etti gorfe Cftp 
 
 Nor question why? 'tis so, 
 
 In simple reverence my knee doth bend, 
 
 I do not seek to know." 
 
 Ah! mother dear, you do not hear a voice 
 
 That sings within my breast 
 
 A song of pure delight, 
 
 As tho' a bird had built a nest therein. 
 
 And warbled day and night. 
 
 The're times it sings as if In pain 
 
 A minor, sad refrain, 
 
 Then, Sorrow draws me with its thrill 
 
 I wonder why it came. 
 
 I long to fly in the azure sky 
 
 Whence come the mist and rain 
 
 I want to die, 
 
 Mother, please do not cry, 
 
 ril come to you again. 
 
 "Do not the flowers return again 
 
 Tho lost beneath the snow? 
 
 The leaves are with the trees once more 
 
 When the wind doth blow 
 
 A balmy gale instead of Winter's roar. 
 
 I've watched the swallows' returning flight 
 
 Encircling yonder spire 
 
 When the sun's red rays 
 
 Shed a brilliant light 
 
 Till its top resembled fire. 
 
 57 
 
!^nm of Cbe Cbtfst 
 
 "How oft, how oft, I've heard thee say 
 Ere my eye-lids drooped in sleep, 
 When near my little cot you knelt 
 To teach me how to pray. 
 'Oh 1 God do Thou, my child's soul keep 
 Safe from sin, and harm and woe, 
 Throw open wide the pearly gates 
 When deep night shadows throw, 
 Send an angel from the realms of light 
 To guard her during sleep.' 
 
 "Nay, sweetest mother, weep not so, 
 
 Thy heart I would not grieve 
 
 Much as I long to this God 
 
 In whom you so believe. 
 
 All things, you say, belong to Him 
 
 In Heaven, on Earth, below, 
 
 I cannot lose myself in heaven 
 
 If I spend a while there-in; 
 
 Then I'll return when the snow-drops bloom 
 
 I'll come at night 
 
 When the stars' pale light 
 
 Come peeping in this room." 
 
 O'er the mother's heart 
 Sad Grief hung Sorrow's pall 
 Its sword had pierced her soul, 
 Intuition's power made her read 
 The "writing on the wall." 
 "Oh! God of love! delay the hour, 
 58 
 
in jBcUj gorfe Citp 
 
 Take not my child from me ! 
 
 / cannot, dare not, will not say 
 
 I give her back to Thee. 
 
 The stars each night come with their light 
 
 The wind sings o'er the lea, 
 
 But the grave's dark gate 
 
 Will ne'er ope its grate 
 
 And my child return to me." 
 
 Autumn with a witching grace 
 
 Had turned the leaves to gold 
 
 Of the brave old yews 
 
 Whose brilliant hues 
 
 Defied November's cold. 
 
 Etchings of the leaf-stripped trees 
 
 Stood forth in bold relief, 
 
 Sternly gazing thru a smoky veil 
 
 At the sighing wind, as if to say, 
 
 "Thou! art the thief!" 
 
 The Wind scoffed back, "regret I shook your 
 
 leaves? 
 Behold! their use, a garment for their 
 
 mother. 
 Wise old Earth who gave you birth, 
 Sorrow, 'Tis best to smother." 
 
 One morn in chill November 
 Ere the mist had left the sky. 
 Was heard a tone of anguish, 
 A soul-wrung mother's cry, 
 59 
 
£luei5t of Ci)e Cl)ri0t 
 
 The winsome maid, so pure and sweet, 
 
 Who seemed clear sunshine's throb, 
 
 Her soul had fled its temple, 
 
 Had gone in quest of God. 
 
 So, too, the red Rose vanished 
 
 In the gray, cold morning's light, 
 
 Its stem lay bare 
 
 Thru the fragrant air 
 
 The petals winged their flight. 
 
 60 
 
COSMIC CORALS 
 
£lue0t of Cf)C €htM 
 
 COSMIC CORALS. 
 THE HOME OF IDEALS. 
 
 Beyond the Heights where the moon-beams 
 
 gleam 
 Lies a Valley, one sees in dreams 
 Shrouded and veiled in mists of grey, 
 The Home of Ideals where we go to pray. 
 Within the womb of Thought unuttered 
 Ideals rest in lambent flame 
 To flash their splendor in mind's creation 
 In answer to the tone we name. 
 When thoughts are hushed and the Silence 
 
 broods 
 O'er the shadowed realm of our mystic 
 
 moods. 
 Sylph-like forms of living fire 
 Responsive come at the soul's desire 
 Radiant and pure with mien divine 
 Come forth these wraiths of the mystic 
 
 shrine 
 Clear, with high resolve and power, 
 They speak within this sacred bower. 
 
 ^2 
 
£Xue0t of Cfje Cl)ri0t 
 
 THE CALL OF THE WIND. 
 
 Oh! the witching spell 
 
 From the woodland dell 
 
 'Tis a call to you and me to fly away, 
 
 This blithesome day, 
 
 To where the Wind doth swell. 
 
 No grander anthem's heard by men 
 
 In choir, in church, in hall, 
 
 As when the waves of the wandering wind 
 
 In rythmic music falls 
 
 On the sun-kissed tops of the forest trees 
 
 And awakes the slumb'ring lyre 
 
 To voice a song of victory 
 
 O'er storms of liquid fire. 
 
 Come! let us go, far from us throw 
 
 The cares of thine and mine, 
 
 And follow the wind with heart-beats slow 
 
 Pure peace and joy to find. 
 
 The scent of the woods in the Spring-time 
 
 air 
 Doth hold a God-like dower, 
 The quest midst fragrant herbs and pines 
 Drives ill-health from his lair. 
 Then follow the Wind thru sun and shower, 
 Trustingly, lovingly, if thou wouldst know 
 Dear Nature's healing power. 
 
in n^eto gork Citp 
 
 IN QUEST OF THE FAIRIES. 
 
 Where wandering winds wail forth 
 
 Their weirdest music, 
 
 Where fragrant pines and wild flowers 
 
 Love to dwell, 
 
 Where sing the birds in love's abandon, 
 
 There — Elfs of light pure Wisdom's 
 
 Truths doth tell. 
 
 In vain you'll strive to find the fairies 
 
 Where noise and clamor, 
 
 Or greed's cold voices sing, 
 
 No rapture dwells where sordid care pre- 
 
 sideth, 
 So elfs of joy and peace take wings 
 To haunts where perfect Love abideth. 
 Where Nature's voice 
 One's inmost soul may thrill, 
 Where God and man 
 Are ne'er divideth 
 And harmonic bliss the soul with rapture 
 
 fills. 
 The fairies are found in the rain-drops, 
 In the tints of the sunshine's gold, 
 They're found in the snow-drop's sparkle 
 When the Wind blows shrill and cold; 
 In the mist when the day is creeping 
 Its way thru the shadows of night, 
 Happy sprites, a vigil are keeping. 
 To dance in Aurora's light 
 65 
 
£lue0t of Clje C6ri0t 
 
 THE PLEA OF THE SOUL. 
 
 "Hear my voice, oh! gentle pilgrim, 
 
 It will guide thee safe alway, 
 Low it whispers in thy temple, 
 
 Heed its tones, nor say it nay." 
 Softer than a zephyr's whisper 
 
 Falls the mystic voice so dear, 
 Breathes its meed of wisdom perfect 
 
 Serene, profound, surpassing clear. 
 
 Upward! onward! still achieving 
 
 Climb to heights as yet unknown. 
 Earth's low vales, illusion leaving 
 
 Ascend! ascend! dost hear the tone 
 Of mighty music in one great soul-throb 
 
 Fraught with power from Love's pure 
 heart; 
 Thy soul's harmony is the key-note. 
 
 Thy life, in this is whole and part. 
 
 Thru all Nature runs the gamut 
 
 Of life in endless melody, 
 As murmuring wavelets in the rythm 
 
 Of time's swift ebb to eternity. 
 Then, heed thy soul's sweet, tender pleading, 
 
 Soft and low as moon-light ray, 
 Trust the voice, it faileth never, 
 
 'Twiil guide thee on the Upward JVay. 
 
 66 
 
in jOcUj gork Citp 
 
 A PRAYER. 
 
 Music divine! vibrate in me 
 
 Awake a tone of ecstacy, 
 
 Life exultant, fearless calm, 
 
 An aid to win the victor's palm. 
 
 Let the music of my soul be heard 
 
 Above the din and clamor 
 
 Of life's tempestuous way; 
 
 Attune the chords of joy and woe 
 
 Chromatic harmony to sway 
 
 The symphony of being. 
 
 Let discord blend with rythmic power 
 
 In the chime of bells that toll 
 
 For passing hours buried for aye 
 
 Li the past's deep grave. 
 
 Intone no psalm of vain regret 
 
 O'er mounds bedewed as yet 
 
 With sorrow's corrosive tears. 
 
 Chant t^'^ dominant resurgam! 
 
 To hail the unknown years, 
 
 Shrouded in Cimmerian gloom, 
 
 Whose advancing footsteps bring tidings 
 
 Of an open, waiting tomb. 
 
 ey 
 
^nm of Cf)e Cftrist 
 
 THE DUAL TONE. 
 
 Throw open wide the casement 
 
 As the hght of day grows dim, 
 
 View the moon-Ht heavens, 
 
 Invite the star-rays in. 
 
 Oh! wondrous music of the spheres 
 
 Yon pale star-beam has heard, 
 
 Thou, too, wouldst hear the mystic tone? 
 
 Then, speak the magic word. 
 
 Thou'lt feel the air grow vibrant 
 
 Sweet peace will o'er the steal, 
 
 Thy life requires an unison 
 
 Its soul-power to reveal. 
 
 Dost hear the witching music 
 
 Of the Wind thru yon green tree? 
 
 What message doth the South Wind bring 
 
 From far across the sea? 
 
 His voice hath wondrous sweetness 
 
 Singing o'er the lea. 
 
 Ah! Wind breathe soon the Message, 
 
 A soul responds to thee. 
 
 The moon-beam woos the dew-drop, 
 Which glistens from delight, 
 The Lily shares her fragrance 
 With the shadows of the night. 
 A dual tone awaits thee 
 None other life may hear, 
 68 
 
in laeto J^orlt €itv 
 
 Then hearken in the Silence 
 
 The Tone, perchance is near. 
 
 Unchain the iron fetters 
 
 Forged by the cares of life, 
 
 Drive from thy breast with courage-fire 
 
 The wraiths of greed and strife. 
 
 Be free ! be still ! let the Eternal Will, 
 
 The primal cause of all pure power, 
 
 Propel thy bark thru shoals and rocks, 
 
 Thru shadows of Earth's hour. 
 
 Call Joy to spring as a fountain clear 
 
 Within the holy place, 
 
 Its tones of heaven-born ecstacy 
 
 With melody will grace 
 
 The unison of thy soul with Love, 
 
 The Tone thou fain would'st woo, 
 
 Give all for Love, for Love is all 
 
 Thou'rt One with God and, God is you. 
 
 53 
 
mmt of C6e Clbrist 
 
 THE MARRIAGE OF JOY. 
 
 "Jump Into my sled, 
 
 I'm going to be wed 
 
 To a maid of high degree, 
 
 And a jolly old ride 
 
 'Ere you'll meet my bride 
 
 Thru the snow you'll have with me. 
 
 A maid most dear 
 
 With eyes blue, clear, 
 
 Soft hair like burnished gold. 
 
 Had bid me come to share her home 
 
 And aid sweet Hfe unfold.' 
 
 "For years, her life was racked from pain, 
 All Earth seemed filled with dread. 
 No voice of song, save a sad refrain 
 Of mourning for her dead 
 Awaked the music, the soul's birth-right, 
 In that heart of Sorrow's blight, 
 Unti^ a flash of celestial light 
 Pierced the shadows o'er her head. 
 
 "One morn In early Autumn's prime 
 She wandered o'er the plain, 
 The trees and sky, and hill and dale 
 With beauty were aflame. 
 She heard the Wind, God's breath In life 
 Mad rushing thru the trees. 
 And from the gnarled, stately oaks 
 The tiny acorns seize. 
 70 
 
in iSeU) gotk €it^ 
 
 "With storm-clad hands he dashed them 
 
 down 
 To Earth, to find a grave, 
 Then tore the leaves of sunlit gold 
 O'er which the artists rave. 
 Mad destruction was abroad 
 None dared to say him nay, 
 The howling Wind shrieked 
 With wild delight 
 [As tho' he were at play. 
 
 Like some weird spell the torrents fell, 
 And black the tempest came, 
 The thunder pealed, the leaden sky 
 Was pierced by lightning's flame. 
 ' Appalled she stood, nor knew not where 
 To find a safe retreat 
 When, as she paused, a ringing tone 
 Was heard quite near her feet. 
 
 "A spray of fern of matchless grace, 
 
 A dream of fronded sheaf 
 
 The offspring of Earth's choicest loam 
 
 And the lowly wind-tossed leaf. 
 
 On this, a tiny cricket sang with glee 
 
 His song of tuneful mirth, 
 
 As if to say, 'the skies are grey, 
 
 To the storm, I owe my birth.' 
 
 " *Oh, God!' she cried, 'Do Thou open wide 
 71 
 
€lue0t of Cf)e Christ 
 
 The windows of my soul, 
 
 Probe deep the pride 
 
 That has long defied 
 
 The reading of life's scroll. 
 
 Should not the storm come unto me 
 
 As well as tree or flower? 
 
 Is man by Nature set apart 
 
 To bask in sunshine's hour?' 
 
 "Her prayer was heard 
 
 As cry of bird 
 
 Falls not on Love's closed ear, 
 
 The light shone bright 
 
 Where once was night 
 
 In the heart of this maid so dear. 
 
 Did we but know 
 
 That 'neath the snow 
 
 That seems the flowret's grave, 
 
 A loving warmth from mother Earth 
 
 The way to life doth pave. 
 
 "Above the love that emanates 
 
 From Passion's wild desire, 
 
 Beyond pale Grief's corrosive rust 
 
 Burns bright the cleansing fire 
 
 Of Love eternal, hence, naught can mar 
 
 The radiant splendor 
 
 Of our Earthly Star 
 
 Save, as we strive to live, from Love afar.'* 
 
 72 
 
itt il5eUj gork Cftp 
 
 THE VOICE OF SONG. 
 
 'Tis asked whence comes the power of song? 
 
 To voice the rythm in the trembling leaf, 
 
 To hear glad tidings in a tone of grief 
 
 And glean pure rapture, attuned and strong 
 
 From myriad voices midst 
 
 Life's discordant throng. 
 
 Would'st know? Here-in lies Time's secret 
 
 Writ on life's parchment, 
 
 Eternity's pliant scroll. 
 
 Listen for the Inner-breath, thy Soul, 
 
 The tone, the music of the spheres 
 
 That count not life in days nor years. 
 
 The voice of song's in bird and flower, 
 
 In dust, in darkness, in sunshine's hour, 
 
 In mist, in rain, in star-light's gleam, 
 
 In Silence's home where we go to dream. 
 
 Thus all is song and joy and power 
 
 Nor breathes a life without this power. 
 
 73 
 
£:xuest of Cfje Clbri0t 
 
 INSPIRATION. 
 
 Be thou an orb ! 
 
 A radiant star travelling thru time to realms 
 
 afar. 
 All past, present, future absorb 
 Let no eclipse of Doubt thy splendor mar. 
 What matters storms and strife or cleansing 
 
 pain, 
 Thy light will pierce thru mist and rain; 
 Empyrean heights thy dazzling sphere, 
 Thru asons's skies. 
 No smirching fear 
 
 Should trail its slime atwarth thy royal path 
 Elliptical tho' it be, 
 
 And the rays of thy hidden solar sun, at times, 
 Do not converge towards thee. 
 Inspiration comes at the call of Aspiration, 
 'Tis wholly thine to choose ; 
 Thy will, the creative power to enthuse, 
 To guide, perchance a pilgrim soul 
 Thru the labyrinthan darkness of Sorrow's 
 
 trying hour. 
 Oh! human star, take Love for thy guidance 
 To heights unknown thru human ken, 
 Faith, Trust, Hope, thy satellites 
 Illumining, cheering thy fellow men ! 
 
 74 
 
in il3eto l^ork Cit? 
 
 SPINNING THE COSMIC ROBE. 
 
 Sweet the joy of living, rejoice ! oh ! soul, 
 
 rejoice 
 To hear within the Silence, the music of the 
 
 Voice 
 Which says, "Fulfill! fulfill the law 
 Thou'rt part of Nature's plan 
 From atom's cell to man's estate 
 'Tis but a cosmic span." 
 
 Spinners at the wheel of time a fabric rare 
 
 we weave. 
 If, perchance, a stitch we miss 
 There is no cause to grieve. 
 On! with a gladsome heart thy destiny 
 
 achieve. 
 The errors of a bygone past thy present may 
 
 retrieve. 
 
 Spin on ! spin on ! oh, pilgrim dear^ 
 
 Thy fate, thine own to choose, 
 
 Nor care thou for the maudling throng 
 
 Weak slaves to senses's use. 
 
 Spin ! spin on ! with zealous cheer 
 
 The garb for the bridal night, 
 
 Select the gems thou fain would wear 
 
 To grace its lustre bright. 
 
 7S 
 
£D.nc^t of C!)e CW^t 
 
 Sometime, somewhere, in aeons's hall 
 The voice of Love thou'lt know, 
 Nor mist, nor shroud, nor earthly pall 
 Athwarth thy sight a shadow throw. 
 Thou'lt wear the garb thy life hath spun, Its 
 
 beauty will enthrall 
 Thy soul, thyself will stand revealed 
 As bride and groom, the One in all. 
 
 76 
 
in ii^eto potk €it^ 
 
 THE CHORD OF THE CHOIR 
 INVISIBLE. 
 
 While lost In the vale of Silence 
 
 Where the Spirit of Peace doth dwell, 
 A tone, like the sigh of a zephyr 
 
 Or a distant vesper bell, 
 Came stealing o'er my senses 
 
 Like the perfume of a rose. 
 Or the fragrance of the violet blue 
 
 In Its midnight, cool repose. 
 
 Soft and low in the silence 
 
 Sang the chord I loved full well, 
 It surely came from the wondrous realm 
 
 Where angels of God doth dwell. 
 Such music, power and rapture 
 
 Unknown to human ken, 
 My soul was filled with glory 
 
 A message to fellow men. 
 
 Like dew to the thirsty flowret, 
 
 Or mist to the arid plain. 
 Came the Chord of the mystic music 
 
 In the Silence's sweet domain. 
 A calm stole o'er my spirit. 
 
 It cast aside all pain. 
 The memory of the heavenly Chord 
 
 Will cling while life remains. 
 77 
 
jCl«e0t of C6e Cfttist 
 
 "Peace! Peace!" was the burden, 
 
 Peace to all mankind! 
 Give Love, glad Joy and Comfort 
 
 And Life Eternal find." 
 
 ?8 
 
THE BETRAYAL of MIKE GRADY 
 
 A REMINISCENCE 
 OF THE FOURTH WARD, NEW YORK, 
 
 AS TOLD BV 
 
 TIM CASEY. 
 
^utst of Clbe Cf)ri0t 
 
 THE BETRAYAL OF MIKE GRADY. 
 
 *'Mike Grady mixed the mortar 
 
 We carried in th' hod, 
 
 A foine big strapping fellow, 
 
 Just landed from th' 'sod.' 
 
 An' while he stirred th' mixture 
 
 He whistled all the day, 
 
 An' was such a tearin' worker 
 
 Th' ould boss raised his pay. 
 
 The years rolled by, he seemed 
 
 To mount be leaps and bounds at will, 
 
 The way the goold rolled t'ward him 
 
 'Tw'ud make yere heart stan' still. 
 
 Honors came both thick and fast, 
 
 Be the Pope he was made a Count, 
 
 Still, f'r all his wealth 
 
 I heard him thus commint: 
 
 'Tim Casy, ye've been me life-long frind, 
 
 Ye know I'll spake the truth, 
 
 I'd gladly part with all me pile 
 
 If 'twud give me back me youth. 
 
 I'd like to be a b'y ag'in an' attind th' wakes 
 once more, 
 
 An' make ould Shannon fightin' mad f'r spit- 
 tin' on his floor.' 
 
 *'He stood before the door beyant 
 A silk tile on his head, 
 
 8i 
 
£Xuest of Cfje €bti0t 
 
 His face looked wan, f'r all the smile 
 
 An' these few words he sed: 
 
 'Tim, if time permits, come up to-night, 
 
 We'll have a smoke an' drink, 
 
 I want to aise me mind f'r light 
 
 Before I cross th' brink.' 
 
 'Sez I, now Mike, don't ask a foolish thing, 
 
 I couldn't stand the sthyle, 
 
 If th' flunkey at the door 'ud grin, 
 
 Ye'd hear me roar a mile. 
 
 What wud the missis say to see the likes av 
 
 me, 
 Th' swell front marble walk come up 
 With steps so bold and free? 
 Sthill, if I must, I'll go or bust 
 An' ould frind to oblige, 
 At eight to-night I'll hove in sight, 
 Me b'y depind on me.' 
 
 "The shades of night rolled down at last 
 Th' noise of day was spint, 
 An' av the promise t' me frind 
 Me heart did sore repint, 
 If, Mike himself wud ope the door 
 Th' thing wud be all right, 
 But! a brass-faced-flunkey to sthare at me, 
 I know I'd want t' fight. 
 Luck f'r once was on me side 
 F'r on the sthoop wns Mike, 
 A smile lit up his pallid face, 
 
 82 
 
in jeetu gorfe Citg 
 
 But not wan trace of pride. 
 
 'Come In me b'y» we're all alone, 
 
 The servants are below, 
 
 The wife Is gone across th' sea 
 
 In furrin climes to roam. 
 
 We'll have a smoke, an' ould-time drink, 
 
 A heart-t'-heart frind's talk, 
 
 An' thin to see the star-light shine 
 
 We'll take a little walk.' 
 
 "A lump of ice closed round me heart, 
 Within that splindid home, 
 Something tould me Love dwelt not 
 Beneath Its lordly dome. 
 We wint upstairs thru the spacious hall 
 Where art and wealth held sway. 
 But hope and trust had fled the roof 
 Where Love refused to stay. 
 Poor Mike Invited me to rest 
 In a chair of r'yal state, 
 His noble efforts to hide his grief 
 A martyr couldn't bate." 
 There's times In life whin words are poor 
 One's feelln's to express 
 When man meets man as soul to soul 
 Whin a frlnd Is In duress 
 From shame and sorrow that seal his lips. 
 Aye, at the cost of life, 
 B'cause, the one who forged th' chains, 
 That one, he called his wife. 
 
 83 
 
!^nm of cije Cfetist 
 
 " 'I suppose, frlnd Tim, ye thought a whim 
 
 Has brought ye here to-night. 
 
 God knows I'm glad to see a face 
 
 That's Ht with honor bright, 
 
 F'r men are rare who'll stand the glare 
 
 Of God's all-searching light, 
 
 Unlike the leopard, brave and strong, 
 
 Who does not change his spots, 
 
 These beasts of prey in human form, 
 
 The selfish, sin-clad sots. 
 
 Will pray and rob, will smile and stab, 
 
 Will prate of human wrong 
 
 An' all the while they'll stoop to guile, 
 
 Unknown to the passing throng. 
 
 Much goold doth cover scarlet sin 
 
 An' hearts cry out in vain, 
 
 F'r the love that's slain 
 
 Be these monster's cruel darts. 
 
 Regret, remorse, red-visaged shame 
 
 Tinge the point of the arrow 
 
 Sent in passion's name." 
 
 " 'Ye understan' me, Tim, I need not say 
 
 much more, 
 The madness of revenge is passed, 
 I'm free from human gore ; 
 I'll leave to Him to right all wrongs 
 Who marks th' sparrows' fall, 
 I'll try to drink with a smiling face 
 Me cup of sin-cursed gall. 
 
 84 
 
in Betu gorfe Citp 
 
 Come, frlnd, let's drink, 'twill help to lift 
 
 The icy, clutching pall 
 
 That with a numbness as av death 
 
 Me senses wild enthrall. 
 
 Cheer up ! me b'y, men must endure 
 
 F'r justice, right and truth. 
 
 Here's to the ould days 
 
 Whin I was free from care, 
 
 Whin next me heart in blissful trust 
 
 I held two jewels rare. 
 
 One was faith in a boundless God, 
 
 One, was trust in a fellow man. 
 
 The first is here within me breast, 
 
 The last, I fail to scan. 
 
 Someday, perhaps, in future lives, 
 
 They say, 'we're born again,' 
 
 The lov'e I proffered here so true, 
 
 Will then, be not in vain.' 
 
 "We wint out 'neath the star-lit sky 
 So peaceful and serene, 
 'Twas hard to breathe, the air felt hot 
 I thought it all a dream. 
 No word was spoken 'twixt us two 
 Until we reached a street 
 That held fond mem'ries for us both 
 F'r here we used to meet 
 To worship in the humble Church 
 An' offer prayers to God, 
 We both professed the ardent faith 
 85 
 
£[Xi\t^t of Clje Cl)tigt 
 
 We brought from the dear oiild sod. 
 
 "Tim, I'll say good night! 
 
 Much better do I feel, 
 
 An' ould-time peace, a soothing calm 
 
 Does o'er me senses steal. 
 
 The whys and wheres, the ups and downs, 
 
 Why life is thus and so? 
 
 These questions oft perplex one's mind, 
 
 But — this one thing I knozv, 
 
 No matter what th' storms and strife, 
 
 The rain, th' sleet, th' chill, 
 
 Th' loss of frinds, aye! death if need, 
 
 God's love Is with us still, 
 
 An' as I clasp y're honest hand 
 
 An' feel its friendly thrill, 
 
 I say 'tis best this seeming ill 
 
 Th' love we give's not lost, no matter how, 
 
 no matter where? 
 It will repay the cost." 
 
 "Next day strange tidings were abroad. 
 They wint the usual round 
 Of great, big head-lines in the press. 
 Because a man was found 
 Dead! Alone in his palatial home, 
 No wife, nor child in sight! 
 The flunkey who described the scene 
 Was nearly dead from fright. 
 An inquest held, the verdict stood 
 86 
 
in jBettJ gorfe (Hit^ 
 
 At which not one will start, 
 
 A multi-millionaire had died 
 
 Fr'm the failure of his heart. 
 
 Oh! marvel strange, as if a clock 
 
 Was ever known to tick 
 
 With its main-spring smashed, the silly talk 
 
 It almost made me sick. 
 
 All honors to th' dead were paid 
 
 They placed him in a vault, 
 
 Th' eulogy was preached in which 'twas said 
 
 *Of earth he was the salt.' 
 
 Rich men were there 
 
 Who bowed in prayer 
 
 God grant they were sincere, 
 
 As th' beauteous flowers that gave their lives 
 
 To deck me lost frind's bier. 
 
 "How many dreamed that the noble heart 
 
 That lay so calm and still 
 
 Was pierced and rent 
 
 By an arrow sent 
 
 From the shaft of a woman's will. 
 
 Who bent on high ambition's road 
 
 None dared to bar her way, 
 
 An' if love paid f'r her maddened shame 
 
 In death it loved her still, 
 
 Th' one desire of that broken lyre 
 
 Was to shield her name fr'm ill. 
 
 Oh! matchless power of unselfish love 
 
 Its slayer thus to save, 
 
 87 , 
 
€lue0t of C5e Cftrfsft 
 
 Thank God to know 
 
 That the seed we sow 
 
 We'll reap beyond the grave.' 
 
TONES FROM THE VOICE OF 
 THE WIND. 
 
€tue0t of Cf)c Cbrist, 
 
 TONES FROM THE VOICE OF THE 
 WIND. 
 
 A REVERIE. 
 
 I Stood on the hill and seemed to Hear 
 
 A visible Music drawing near 
 
 Whose tones were hushed 
 
 As in dreamland's sleep, 
 
 A tryst with one's inmost soul to keep. 
 
 The mystic Music whispered clear 
 
 "At your call I came, lo ! I am here, 
 
 I'm Nature's voice, what woulds't thou 
 
 know? 
 Then learn from me to serve and grow.'* 
 
 TWILIGHT HOUR. 
 
 Hark! Yon vesper bell is pealing. 
 Sweet-toned music in the Twilight Hour, 
 Nearer! nearer! now 'tis stealing, 
 Wakes the soul to God-like power. 
 'Tis the sacred hour of silence 
 Now, when Night's first shadows fall, 
 The air swings incense from sweet flowrets, 
 Breathing blessings to us all. 
 
 91 
 
€tue0t of Clje Cl)ri0t 
 
 THE SONG OF THE FLOWERS. 
 
 "We are Nature's sweetest singers, 
 Songs of joy and love we sing 
 To the worn and foot-sore pilgrim, 
 Thoughts of peace, and solace bring. 
 Listen to our tender pleading 
 As we breathe a fragrant prayer. 
 Be still! and learn life's precious secret, 
 'Tis murmuring in the sun-kissed air." 
 
 THE SONG OF THE GOLDEN-ROD. 
 
 "I'm a flame! a clear flame 
 Of the sun-beam's throb, 
 As I wave in the breeze 
 And my bright plumes nod, 
 I sing the glad song 
 Of dear Nature's power, 
 Of the Voice of God 
 In a wayside flower," 
 
 92 
 
in H^eUJ gotk Citp 
 
 THE POPPY'S SECRET. 
 
 Would'st know the poppy's secret, 
 
 Hid from the eyes of men? 
 
 The power to enter dreamland's sphere 
 
 And be a child again? 
 
 Let go all thoughts of vain regret, 
 
 The past blooms not again, 
 
 The poppy grows 
 
 Where the Now Wind blows 
 
 Nor waits for future rains. 
 
 THE FAIRIES' FAREWELL TO THE 
 MOON. 
 
 "Farewell ! dear moon, our revel's over, 
 Thy tender beams gave great delight, 
 Sweet thoughts of thee will always hover 
 In memory's halls to bless this night. 
 Too soon will Earth's shade hide thy splen- 
 dor, 
 In ether's realm thou'lt speed afar. 
 Thru mountain mist and cloudlets tender, 
 To greet thy friend, the Morning Star." 
 
 THE END. 
 
 93 
 
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