PS 3523 
 .E879C8 
 
 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 00Q0ET54a4'=i 
 

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 ^^^^^• 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Text Book of the Past 
 Grand Eminent Guards 
 of the Question Club, 
 adopted at Midsum- 
 mer Meeting, Narra- 
 gansett Pier, September 
 Eighth, Nineteen Hun- 
 dred and Fourteen. 
 
 .??? 
 
Copyright, 1914, by 
 Seneca G . Leujis 
 
THE 
 CYCLES 
 
 Theme by j^ 
 
 Seneca GjXewis 
 
 Interpretative Verse by 
 
 C. p. McDonald 
 
 PRIVATELY PRINTED 
 
T'qB^^^ 
 
 6'?']^ 
 
 C^ 
 
 IH^ 
 
 DEC 26 3914 
 
 'CI.A388954 
 
FIRST CYCLE 
 
 Abandon of Youth 
 
 'Today — live for it!- — 
 
 O an empty thing 
 This Future isf 
 
Ueride my Creed — my Doctrine- 
 
 if you will, 
 Yet I must nurture 
 
 my opinion still: 
 Futurity demands 
 
 no thought of mine- 
 It has no mission 
 
 that I should fulfill. 
 
II 
 
 If, living for the present, 
 
 I must deign 
 Feel qualms of Conscience 
 
 for the moment's gain, 
 Repenting later 
 
 and entramrael Life — 
 Ah, then, for me, Life shall 
 
 have dawned in vain ! 
 
Ill 
 
 Kxis 
 
 istence is equivocal. 
 
 To shed 
 Salt-tanged and barren tears 
 
 for what's ahead 
 Would be to misconstrue 
 
 what all the Gods 
 Of Joy and Laughter 
 
 have interpreted. 
 
IV 
 
 VVhilebroadandclearmy vision is- 
 
 and vast — 
 Though some new-gotten prize 
 
 should be my last, 
 For me the Present 
 
 is where'er I stand 
 And watch the Future 
 
 fuse into the Past. 
 
V 
 
 1 he rose that sheds its blood 
 
 in Motherhood 
 That Beauty 
 
 may be freely understood, 
 Is plucked and dies, 
 
 although the bud lives on, 
 Nor knows the World is naught 
 
 but just and good. 
 
VI 
 
 Xomorrow comes, cloaked 
 
 in her fairest guise, 
 New Worlds of Gain, to conquer 
 
 in her eyes; 
 We meet, and, Lo — 
 
 her raiment cast asi(ie- 
 We find that Age 
 
 has coveted the Prize. 
 
VII 
 
 1 cannot be as sanguine 
 
 as the Sun, 
 Who, when the sands of Day 
 
 have fully run, 
 Sinks with a blood-red gleam 
 
 of Days to be— 
 I live this Day — 
 
 there is no other one. 
 
VIll 
 
 ilow oft I sneer 
 
 to view the brutal strife 
 Man makes for Gain 
 
 to soothe the Future Life, 
 Pregnant with lust 
 
 to foul his fellow dust 
 In marts where cunning, 
 
 fraud, and sham are rife. 
 
IX 
 
 Yo 
 
 ou speak to me of Hell! — 
 
 There is no Hell 
 Save in that brain where Hope 
 
 has ceased to dwell ; 
 Where Reason beats 
 
 its bleeding wings against 
 The strained, revolting 
 
 confines of its Cell. 
 
JTlell is Man's heritage, 
 
 you sadly say, 
 Because he blindly falters 
 
 on the way 
 To what may be! — 
 
 Oh, all-wise as you are, 
 Can you prove this to me?— 
 
 I cry you nay ! 
 
XI 
 
 1 he 
 
 Days to come ? — 
 
 The Monarch on his throne, 
 Aweary of uncertainty, 
 
 has grown 
 Vo look ahead, 
 
 anticipating Fate, 
 F'orgetful of the Joys 
 
 he might have known. 
 
XII 
 
 T., 
 
 le hand that wields the Scepter 
 
 often shakes 
 Before the aftermath of laws 
 
 it makes, 
 For Life asks usury 
 
 for what it gives — 
 Giving but little 
 
 for the toll it takes. 
 
XIII 
 
 X he King — but human — 
 
 shorn of pomp would be. 
 The Queen of her illusions 
 
 would be free 
 To seek the boon of peace 
 
 her subjects find, 
 Unshackled by the 
 
 chains of pageantry. 
 
XIV 
 
 Dut, no — the King and Queen 
 
 have seen the Hand 
 Upon the Wall, 
 
 and likened its command 
 Unto abandoned Hope, 
 
 yet fain ratist live 
 The fettered Life 
 
 Futurity has planned. 
 
XV 
 
 1 rate of 
 
 this Future, 
 
 you who cannot see 
 Beyond the confines 
 
 of this Mystery 
 Called Life, relinquishing 
 
 your subtle claim 
 To what is Now 
 
 for what you trust zvill be! 
 
XVI 
 
 The 
 
 savage tribesman, 
 
 on his barren isle, 
 Scoflfs at the 
 
 malady of Afterwhile 
 He knows he lives Today ^ 
 
 and, knowing this, 
 Comes to the Later Day 
 
 with artless guile. 
 
XVII 
 
 1 he beasts of burden, 
 
 toiling year by year, 
 That Man may prosper 
 
 and allay his fear 
 Of later drought, 
 
 moil on without complaint, 
 Ambitionless, resigned, 
 
 as Death draws near. 
 
XVIII 
 
 X, 
 
 he birds of passage, 
 
 with their hearts atune 
 With dripping song 
 
 to be forgotten soon, 
 Fly on and on until, 
 
 their pinions limp 
 With Age, they pass 
 
 into that Endless Swoon. 
 
XIX 
 
 1 he honey bee 
 
 that feasts upon the Rose 
 Of Paradise that by 
 
 Life's pathway blows, 
 Sips of its fill 
 
 until the night draws on, 
 Then passes as the 
 
 wilting petals close. 
 
XX 
 
 Ahe fawn that treks 
 
 the jungle, innocent 
 Of Omnipresent Doom, 
 
 is all-content 
 To live its span, 
 
 predestined though it is 
 To be by mightier fauna 
 
 torn and rent. 
 
XXI 
 
 Th. 
 
 le tragedies that fill 
 
 the lives of those 
 Born to the vaunted 
 
 purple oft disclose 
 The miseries that come 
 
 from knowing that 
 The prick of thorns 
 
 is hidden by the Rose. 
 
XXII 
 
 D 
 
 umb brutes, who answer 
 
 to your beck and call, 
 Straining the leash 
 
 of bondage till they fall 
 To lifeless Clay — 
 
 how sadder they than you 
 Who speak of Future Hell 
 
 in fear withal ! 
 
XXIII 
 
 w, 
 
 hat care they for the 
 
 coming of the years ? 
 Harassed by none of 
 
 Mankind's greatest fears, 
 They fill their niche in ignorance, 
 
 then pass 
 Unmourned, unloved from out 
 
 this Vale of Tears. 
 
XXIV 
 
 VV hile you, who feel mine 
 
 is the greater loss 
 Because I sift pure pleasure 
 
 from the dross 
 Of Sweet Existence, 
 
 stagger on your way 
 Beneath the weight 
 
 of Future's leaden Cross. 
 
XXV 
 
 lour mind-born Creed — 
 
 the Toy of Fickle Fate! 
 Shaped in the effigy 
 
 of Hope, to sate 
 A brain bewarped 
 
 by Faith intangible- 
 Why should it, cast with mine, 
 
 preponderate ? 
 
XXVI 
 
 lou strive, you scheme, 
 
 you barter to achieve. 
 That you may be adjudged 
 
 by what you leave 
 When Life is finished, 
 
 fearing that disdain 
 Of those who reach the heights 
 
 for which you grieve. 
 
XXVIl 
 
 JLou pass and, for the nonce, 
 
 Men say Success 
 Has whdWy crowned your efforts; 
 
 but the stress 
 Of their applause 
 
 is for the chattels you 
 * Have left— your crumbling Clay 
 
 is valueless. 
 
XXVIII 
 
 i>3eek not to lead me 
 
 to that Future Day 
 Of which you prattle 
 
 in the awkward way 
 Of new-born babes; but, 
 
 rather, let me tread 
 The perfumed highway of Today, 
 
 I pray. 
 
XXIX 
 
 Irate not of Knowledge 
 
 you will never know 
 Beyond the compass 
 
 of beliefs that flow 
 As variable as winds 
 
 upon the wastes 
 Of desert lands and seas — 
 
 'tis better so. 
 
XXX 
 
 loday— live for it ! — 
 
 Oh, an emptv thing 
 This Future is of which 
 
 you bHthely sing! 
 Fill up the Cup of Gladness 
 
 while you may, 
 Enjoy that sweet abandon 
 
 it will bring! 
 
XXXI 
 
 If I might know that some day— 
 
 when, who knows? — 
 My Life would bloom 
 
 and blossom as the Rose, 
 What would it matter?— 
 
 I would still embrace 
 The Joys the Present 
 
 and Today disclose. 
 
XXX II 
 
 1 still would hold, clutched tigfhtly 
 
 to my breast, 
 The Pleasures of the Now, 
 
 each moment dressed 
 In more alluring raiment — 
 
 find the Prize 
 That you, in Future Days, 
 
 have faintly guessed. 
 
XXXIIl 
 
 If, in ray lethal Creed, 
 
 1 clutch the skirts 
 Of Momentary Joy, 
 
 who gaily flirts 
 Before mine eyes and taunts me 
 
 to my Doom, 
 What matter if 
 
 the outcome sadl}^ hurts? 
 
XXXIV 
 
 Ah, c. 
 
 :all me what you will- 
 base, dissolute — 
 
 Because your Liturgy 
 I dare refute! 
 
 The vines of Present Pleasures 
 droop beneath 
 
 A bounteous yield— 
 
 I fain would pluck the fruit . 
 
XXXV 
 
 JVly Cup of Life 
 
 I rim-fill with Today, 
 And drive Dull Care 
 
 upon his trackless way; 
 Call in the Piper, Joy, 
 
 and seek surcease 
 From Future thoughts— 
 
 nor reckon on the pay. 
 
SECOND CYCLE 
 
 Doubt of Maturity 
 
 What you, in other Days, 
 were wont to say, 
 
 That deeds, well done, 
 
 reflect the Future Day 
 
 I now can grasp.'' 
 
XXXVl 
 
 W hen years relentlessly 
 
 roll on and on, 
 Youth's fading Cycle 
 
 blends into the dawn 
 Of ripened Age, and, Lo — 
 
 the heart brims o'er 
 With memories of days 
 
 forever gone. 
 
XXXVII 
 
 Ahe Cynic, freed of 
 
 arrogance, forswears 
 The tangled preachments 
 
 that Life's fulness bares 
 Casts out the frail 
 
 abandonment of Y^outh, 
 While Doubt enmeshes 
 
 Reason unawares. 
 
XXXVIII 
 
 A he vision broadens 
 
 as the years expand ; 
 Hope checks the angered blow 
 
 aimed by the hand 
 Of ravished Fate, 
 
 and Faith renews the song 
 That Younger Years 
 
 could never understand. 
 
XXXIX 
 
 What you, in other Da^-s, 
 
 were wont to say, 
 That deeds, well done, 
 
 reflect the Future Day, 
 1 now can grasp — in part — 
 
 yet, let me ask, 
 Does living wholly 
 
 for the P'uture pay ? 
 
XL 
 
 Xoday, for me, is with 
 
 Life's pleasures fraught, 
 The sweet quintessence 
 
 of contentment, caught 
 From out the Past,— 
 
 Must I, then, cast aside 
 Those pleasures and 
 
 consider them as naught ? 
 
XLI 
 
 V^an 1, once having run 
 
 the gamut of 
 All earthly Joys, 
 
 embracing Hate and Love, 
 Turn from that Past 
 
 with Conscience all-serene. 
 Discarding it as fares a 
 
 tattered glove ? 
 
XLII 
 
 If 1, repentant, 
 
 now should bravely seek 
 That fair Futurity 
 
 of which you speak, 
 Forget the tenets 
 
 of those other Days, 
 Would not the World 
 
 at once proclaim me weak? 
 
XLIII 
 
 VJonld it accept me, 
 
 I, who always sought 
 
 Destruction of those temples 
 Faith had wrought 
 
 Within your breast- 
 accept me, who renounced 
 
 The broader Creed that 
 
 greater minds have taught? 
 
XLIV 
 
 Is not the World 
 
 suspicions of the Man 
 Who, in his early years, 
 
 revised the plan 
 Of Looking^ Forward, 
 
 skeptical of all 
 Who preached the Gospel 
 
 of the Coming Clan? 
 
XLV 
 
 VJould it, 
 
 without compunction, 
 
 welcome me 
 Within the fold 
 
 of that Futurity 
 To which I always lent 
 
 a deafened ear, 
 Blind to the things 
 
 that blinder men could see? 
 
XL VI 
 
 1 doubt it!— Man, though human, 
 
 cannot take 
 The barren word 
 
 of one who would forsake 
 The wayward Creed of Youth 
 
 and hold within 
 His Soul the Light 
 
 his betters strive to make. 
 
XLVII 
 
 XVepentance cloaks the cowardice, 
 
 I claim, 
 Of one who has been seared 
 
 within the Flame 
 Of Blind Conceit; and, scorched, 
 
 cries out : "Oh, Youth, 
 What follies are committed 
 
 in thv name!" 
 
XLVIII 
 
 llow oft I seek 
 
 communion with my Fate, 
 When, menaced by Remorse, 
 
 I, trembling, wait 
 Beside the Road of Hope — 
 
 but all in vain, 
 For Fate, all-unrelenting, screams, 
 
 "Too late! " 
 
XLIX 
 
 iweet Faith, cursed by the 
 
 Wanderlust, sways on 
 To dizzy heights, turns, 
 
 beckons— and is gone. 
 I struggle after, 
 
 buffeted anon 
 By Doubt and by Despair— 
 
 their helpless pawn. 
 
1 sometimes think, when 
 
 Doubt assails mj- brain, 
 That, after all, 
 
 Life is an endless chain 
 Of vag^ue regrets — the fruits 
 
 of maddened strife 
 Man makes to pilfer 
 
 Honestv of Gain, 
 
LI 
 
 Fain 
 
 would I be 
 
 of service to the Creed 
 You oft espoused, 
 
 for now I feel the need 
 Of such support ; yet Conscience 
 
 prompts the thoug-ht: 
 Too long I failed 
 
 contributing my meed. 
 
LII 
 
 Is it within the scope 
 
 of Reason 1 
 Can flaunt my record 
 
 of the Days gone by 
 Before your sect 
 
 in due repentance, and 
 Expect that Screed 
 
 in one brief hour to die ? 
 
LIII 
 
 A he bird, so sweet of call, 
 
 so fleet of wing, 
 That greets the dawn of 
 
 each new morn of Spring, 
 If in that Spring 
 
 its wings are broken, can 
 It fly in Summer 
 
 or as sweetly sing ? 
 
LIV 
 
 V^aii 1, 
 
 my Spring ill-spent 
 
 as Fancy willed, 
 My Soul this moment 
 
 by its mem'ries thrilled, 
 Come, in the Summertime of Life, 
 
 to you 
 And own my Youthful Mission 
 
 unfulfilled? 
 
LV 
 
 When I unto your portals 
 
 late had strayed, 
 And on the heartstrings of your Trust 
 
 had played, 
 Could you accept me 
 
 but for what 1 am, 
 And welcome me 
 
 with Conscience unafraid? 
 
LVI 
 
 l\h, could I feel, 
 
 without a tinge of Doubt, 
 I might embrace that Creed 
 
 I used to fiout, 
 And know that Faith 
 
 in which you now rejoice, 
 Then would I put the Past Reproach 
 
 to rout! 
 
LVII 
 
 But, 
 
 having lived that Past 
 
 for Self alone 
 And toppled thoughts of others 
 
 from the throne 
 Of Reason, 1 am knouted 
 
 by Despair, 
 Who jeers: "Why this late Day 
 
 seek to atone?" 
 
LVIII 
 
 l\nd why," Doubt queries, 
 
 "undertake to throw 
 Away the Fruits 
 
 you struggled long to know 
 And now possess, 
 
 for something undefined? — 
 Accept the gifts of Youth — 
 
 'tis better so ! 
 
LIX 
 
 l/or," Doubt continues, 
 
 "Future is a dream 
 Whose dogma is 
 
 o'ershadowed by the gleam 
 Of Present Life — 
 
 why dawdle for a Prize 
 As vague as blurred 
 
 reflections in a stream? 
 
LX 
 
 -L/o.ot Life of its abundance — 
 
 take your fill 
 Of Earthy Joys, 
 
 let Future score the bill. 
 Cram the voracious maw 
 
 of Now with spoils 
 Of Selfishness— 
 
 for Virtue's pay is nil ! ' 
 
LXI 
 
 l^o," gently ui 
 
 irges Reason ; 
 "Life is fleet, 
 And one must mortar 
 
 bitter with the sweet. 
 Once having sipped 
 
 the tang of Folly, why 
 Abandon Hope, 
 
 acknowledging Defeat ? 
 
LXII 
 
 VV hen one has drunk 
 
 his fill of false Desire, 
 Infertile Doubt proclaims 
 
 that to aspire 
 To nobler things were vain — 
 
 yet Conscience feeds 
 Its twigs of faith 
 
 to Hope's eternal fire! 
 
LXIII 
 
 P 
 
 1 luck anchor from 
 
 the Harbor of Despair 
 And for Futurity's Domain 
 
 now fare. 
 What matter though the way 
 
 be tempest-tossed? 
 
 A little while, and 
 
 you are sheltered there! 
 
LXIV 
 
 What?" argues Doubt. 
 
 "Renounce the Gains of 
 
 years, 
 A sacrifice to 
 
 palliate he jeers 
 Of Days to be— 
 
 because the palinode 
 Of Pagans has found 
 
 echo in vour fears? 
 
LXV 
 
 Oucl 
 
 •h thoughts out-Herod Life. 
 
 Youth's rainbow swings 
 Its arched magnificence 
 
 for what it brings 
 The Day that is ! —When 
 
 Death draws on apace, 
 What care you for 
 
 the song the Future sings?' 
 
LXVI 
 
 l\h, thus assailed, 
 
 I turn to you for Light, 
 That you may guide 
 
 my vagrant steps aright ! 
 Doubt, Reason, and Despair 
 
 their preachments bring, 
 And all convincingly 
 
 their tenets cite. 
 
LXVII 
 
 iVlatnrer V( 
 
 rears have taught me 
 
 many things: 
 'Hie heart is saddest that 
 
 most blithely sings ; 
 There is no recompense 
 
 for wasted Youth 
 Save greater Wisdom 
 
 patient Future brings. 
 
LXVIU 
 
 let, having reaped the harvest 
 
 I have sown, 
 Can 1, all self -existent, 
 
 illy-grown, 
 Illume your World 
 
 and share the manifold 
 Endowments I should 
 
 long ago have known ? 
 
LXIX 
 
 What's done is done! — 
 
 To knock upon the gate 
 Of your Belief, 
 
 I fear it is too late ; 
 My Courage fails — 
 
 I ever must remain 
 A Parasite for Doubt 
 
 to castigate ! 
 
LXX 
 
 JVly Future! — dark, 
 
 abysmal, fathomless! 
 My Hope of nobler deeds 
 
 in Doubt's duress! 
 My path entangled 
 
 by puissant Fear, 
 My Soul denied the boon 
 
 of Faith's redress! 
 
THIRD CYCLE 
 
 Wisdom of Age 
 
 'Sans Creeds, Beliefs — 
 
 let me each Day be swayed 
 By one desire — 
 
 e'en now too lon^ delayed: 
 To practice Human Kindness.'' 
 
LXXI 
 
 l\s one who rouses 
 
 from imperfect sleep, 
 Or, cured of blindness, 
 
 sees the mighty sweep 
 Of rising sun, so Wisdom 
 
 springs from years, 
 Belated faith 
 
 with dawning Age to keep. 
 
LXXII 
 
 ilope, dashed and bruised on 
 
 Youthtime's heedless sea, 
 Comes limping 
 
 to the call of Destiny. 
 From out my breast 
 
 Despair and Doubt depart, 
 And Faith, so long- held captive, 
 
 now is free. 
 
LXXIIl 
 
 VJome," whispers Conscience; 
 
 "Life is short, forsooth, 
 In which to extripate 
 
 the lapse of Youth; 
 To turn from those entanglements 
 
 and seek 
 The cyclic Wisdom 
 
 later born of Truth. 
 
LXXIV 
 
 Th 
 
 he World applauds the man 
 
 who finds the ways 
 Of rectitude— 
 
 who struggles long to raise 
 The standards of Achievement, 
 
 and who strives 
 To leave behind 
 
 his sterile Yesterdays. 
 
LXXV 
 
 A he Springtime Cycle, 
 
 when the heart beats young" 
 And Future speaks to us 
 
 in aUen tongue, 
 Must swing in its predestined orbit, 
 
 while 
 'Jlie paeans of Good Deeds 
 
 are left unsung. 
 
LXXVl 
 
 JPor Man, subservient 
 
 to Present's sway, 
 Precursor of a 
 
 sometime Better Day, 
 Is but a potsherd 
 
 of the F'uture Life, 
 United— later — 
 
 with the Mother Clay 
 
LXXVII 
 
 V>^ne errs in early Years 
 
 when Fancy flings 
 Her peripatetic dictum 
 
 to the wings 
 Of Youth's abandon ; 
 
 for one cannot hear 
 The song of Faith 
 
 the Conscience softly sings. 
 
LXXVIII 
 
 Out when, at last, 
 
 the flush of Wisdom sweeps 
 Into the Soul, and 
 
 Life its mandates keeps, 
 Man rouses from his lethargy 
 
 and finds 
 The boon of deeds — 
 
 for Faith no longer sleeps. 
 
LXXIX 
 
 Cj ome now into that Knowledge 
 
 vast and wide 
 Which, by Youth's blurred decree, 
 
 I was denied, 
 1 joyously accept 
 
 Life's profifered hand. 
 My visionary Creeds 
 
 all cast aside. 
 
LXXX 
 
 J. o falter by the way 
 
 is human — yet 
 When one uproots the sprig's 
 
 of deep Regret, 
 Transplanting Hope 
 
 into the veins of Life, 
 Faith's gleaming star 
 
 can never sink nor set, 
 
LXXXI 
 
 Jje Kind! — Oh, phrase 
 
 with promise opulent! 
 Ornate with Love, 
 
 Devotion, Heart-Content ! 
 Youth-scorned, you limn Life's 
 
 Falltime with the hues 
 Of Blessedness 
 
 beyond Earth's firmament! 
 
LXXXII 
 
 Jje True!— Oh, words that drip 
 
 with sweet repose, 
 Perfume Existence 
 
 with the scent of rose! 
 Ignored in Springtime, 
 
 take my trembling hand 
 And guide the way 
 
 until my Life shall close! 
 
LXXXllI 
 
 Jje Charitable ! — 
 
 Oh, a thousand ways 
 1 picture to myself 
 
 those empty days 
 Self-centered, 
 
 when I lifted not a hand 
 To help Mankind 
 
 from Trouble's venal maze! 
 
LXXXIV 
 
 l/aith, let me, full-repentant 
 
 walk with you 
 In Charity's fair garden 
 
 drenched with dew, 
 And find that sweet Soul-solace 
 
 thriving there 
 Which, in those fruitless days, 
 
 I never knew ! 
 
LXXXV 
 
 H 
 
 .ope, steadfast, merciful, 
 
 within my breast 
 No longer grow the weeds 
 
 of vague unrest. 
 With you and Faith 
 
 I face Futurity, 
 My life indeed 
 
 a Heaven doubly blessed! 
 
LXXXVI 
 
 kJweet Charity, whose name 
 
 ray lips ne'er framed 
 In olden days, 
 
 I come now, unashamed, 
 Accepting of your bounty, 
 
 asking naught 
 But healing of the Heart 
 
 so early maimed ! 
 
LXXXVll 
 
 1/aith, Hope, and Charity — 
 
 though late the Day, 
 I come to you 
 
 deep homage now to pay: 
 In humble supplication, 
 
 bow before 
 Your shrine, to find 
 
 whatever peace I may. 
 
LXXXVIII 
 
 IVline eyes, unveiled, 
 
 now see the glory-dawn 
 That long ago 
 
 they should have feasted on. 
 Mine ears, attuned 
 
 to hear the Future song, 
 Are deafened to the Ages 
 past and gone. 
 
LXXXIX 
 
 H 
 
 enceforth my every deed 
 
 I consecrate 
 To you, that you may 
 
 judge and estimate 
 The depth of my repentance, 
 
 and may know 
 No longer do I doubt 
 
 the ways of Fate. 
 
xc 
 
 ians Creeds, Beliefs- 
 let me each day be swayed 
 
 By one desire — 
 
 e'en now too lonjj delayed: 
 
 To practice Human Kindness, 
 and to bear 
 
 My Cross adown the path 
 
 Content has made. 
 
XCI 
 
 x\nd let me struggle 
 
 upward toward the J^ight 
 Of Peace, in all its 
 
 majesty and might, 
 Through deeds that serve to 
 
 gladden saddened hearts 
 And lead them through Despair's 
 
 deep shadowed Night. 
 
XCll 
 
 Ihe Helpin^^ Hand! — 
 
 Oh, frag-ments that remaiu 
 Of wasted Life, 
 
 yon ranst allay the pain 
 Of those who follow 
 
 in yonr early steps, — 
 Sift chaff of Donbt from 
 
 Trnth's endnring^ Crrain! 
 
XCIII 
 
 X hough Wisdom blooms 
 
 impassioned with the wane 
 Of fleeting Life, 
 
 as sunshine follows rain, 
 One deed of Kindness 
 
 dissipates the clouds 
 Of Sorrow that from 
 
 Younger Days remain. 
 
XCIV 
 
 JL'eeds are not reckoned 
 
 by the flight of Days, 
 Nor by the salvos 
 
 nor tumult of Praise, 
 Nor Human Kindness 
 
 by its magnitude — 
 The World rewards Mankind 
 
 in fitter wavs. 
 
xcv 
 
 X oday— time-wise — 
 
 1 fare the Lighted Way 
 From out the forest 
 
 of my Yesterday, 
 Rejoicing in 
 
 the blessed Doctrine of 
 'J'he Helping Hand 
 
 in Trouble's fevered fray 
 
XCVl 
 
 X hough 
 
 igh Age comes on, 
 
 'tis not too late to start 
 To heed the promptings 
 
 of a lightened heart. 
 The Fellowship of Man 
 
 is made complete 
 When each plods ou 
 
 and fills his given part. 
 
XCVII 
 
 Xhe burdens of the Weak 
 
 are for the Strong; 
 The sore of heart 
 
 are gladdened by a song; 
 The Happy Man is he 
 
 who scatters seeds 
 Of lasting goodness 
 
 as he goes along. 
 
XCVIIl 
 
 xour Creeds— what are they? — 
 
 Shallow things, indeed, 
 When acts, not words, 
 
 are what the helpless need. 
 The World is small 
 
 and has no place for those 
 Who swathe their errors 
 
 in the skirts of Creed! 
 
XCIX 
 
 Op. 
 
 'aith! O Hope! O Charity 
 
 I hold 
 No brief against the Life 
 
 that now is old, 
 Since \'ou, all-bountiful, 
 
 have shared with me 
 The Wisdom you in Youthtime 
 
 left untold ! 
 
iJehind, a barren Past ! — 
 
 Before, fair days 
 That 1 shall pass 
 
 in Wisdom's joyous ways, 
 With here and there 
 
 a pause to lift some Soul 
 From out the gloom 
 
 Despondency may raise. 
 
CI 
 
 JVly Future Days 
 
 in honest purpose spent 
 In Human Kindness, 
 
 broad, beneficent, 
 I shall have lived 
 
 to see the sands of Life 
 Run out their course in Wisdom— 
 
 all-content. 
 TAMAM