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WHY ARE WE HERE? 
 
 Are We Here For a 
 Definite Duty? 
 
 Free Rosicrucian Book Explains 
 
 ANY A TIME have you not often 
 wondered, "Why?" 
 
 Why you are as you are, and others 
 are doctors, lawyers, bankers, clerks, 
 housewives, and so forth? 
 
 Why some are prosperous and healthy, 
 others in dire need? Why we are called 
 equal, when such inequalities exist? 
 Why are we permitted to make the 
 ; i stakes for which we must suffer penalties? Why God, 
 Divinity, or our Creator, which ever term you are 
 familiar with, permits us to make such errors? Why 
 must we learn through first suffering from a mistake? 
 Why are we not shown how to prevent the mistake? 
 Why does God and nature mathematically and sys' 
 natically decree the existence and manifestation of 
 everything here on this plane, and still we do not 
 ourselves, apparently know why we are here, on this 
 earth plane? 
 
 Why, if we aie here for a definite purpose or act, 
 
 ! o we not return again to be able to complete our duty 
 
 d purpose on this plane? Perhaps we do. 
 
 These questions the churches, universities, and science 
 
 in general attempt to answer; but still there is much 
 
 about these questions that causes the average person to 
 
 ponder and he is left apparently without adequate 
 
 information. Certainly someone must know the answer 
 
 d reason why. 
 
AMORC, the International Rosicrucian Order, is 
 composed of men and women interested in questions 
 of this nature, in self'evolution, and in securing the 
 logical answers to these questions. Therefore, they can 
 show you how, to your satisfaction, you may secure the 
 knowledge that lies behind the veil. They practiced 
 alchemy, mental alchemy, and transmuted elementary 
 principles into golden manifestations, they found the 
 key to life and death, health and disease, failure and 
 success, power and mastery. 
 
 HELP US SPREAD THE GREAT LIGHT 
 Rosicrucians are pledged to spread the Great Light 
 in every possible way. It is truly a joy to help bring 
 happiness, health, and prosperity into the lives of 
 others. You may not know just how the Rosicrucians 
 can aid you in your daily problems, but the way will 
 be pointed out to you, and you will become one of 
 the countless thousands in the world who shares the 
 knowledge of this very old and honored fraternity. 
 
 And now a new book — not for sale — but LOANED 
 to sincere students who seek self'evolution, has been 
 written by Sri. Ramatherio. It is called "The 
 Secret Heritage." It contains the strange story of 
 the Rosicrucians and their secret doctrines and shows 
 HOW the absolutely sincere and worthy seeker of today 
 MAY BECOME a true student and adept of the knowl' 
 edge and attain such mastership as constitutes Rosicru' 
 cian Power. Only the sincere, however, promising to 
 give the matter careful thought and due consideration, 
 should apply for the book. Send a letter stating your 
 desire, and the book will be sent, postpaid, Address: 
 
 Chief Librarian 
 
 The Rosicrucians 
 
 (AMORC) 
 
 Rosicrucian Park ' San Jose, California 
 
 (Remember, The Rosicrucians are NOT a religious organization.) 
 
 PRINTED IN U. S. A. 
 
®0 4Bg iiottjer 
 0H? frtttor law mb tnaptrittg 
 romjramottatjtp fjaue btm 
 twv prmni prncfa 
 
 30obttfaa 
 
Quatrains Of Christ 
 
 George Creel 
 
 Kanaaa @ttg, fHtaaourt 
 
 COPYRIGHTED 1907 BY GEORGE ORBBL 
 
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WHY ARE WE HERE? 
 
 Are We Here For a 
 Definite Duty? 
 
 Free Rosicrucian Book Explains 
 
 ANY A TIME have you not often 
 wondered, "Why?" 
 
 Why you are as you are, and others 
 are doctors, lawyers, bankers, clerks, 
 housewives, and so forth? 
 
 Why some are prosperous and healthy, 
 
 others in dire need? Why we are called 
 
 equal, when such inequalities exist? 
 
 Why are we permitted to make the 
 
 akes for which we must suffer penalties? Why God, 
 
 Divinity, or our Creator, which ever term you are 
 
 iliar with, permits us to make such errors? Why 
 
 t we learn through first suffering from a mistake? 
 
 y are we not shown how to prevent the mistake? 
 
 Why does God and nature mathematically and sys' 
 
 tematically decree the existence and manifestation of 
 
 everything here on this plane, and still we do not 
 
 ourselves, apparently know why we are here, on this 
 
 earth plane? 
 
 Vhy, if we aie here for a definite purpose or act, 
 
 do we not return again to be able to complete our duty 
 
 purpose on this plane? Perhaps we do. 
 
 These questions the churches, universities, and science 
 
 i general attempt to answer; but still there is much 
 
 bout these questions that causes the average person to 
 
 der and he is left apparently without adequate 
 
 information. Certainly someone must know the answer 
 
 and reason why. 
 
AMORC, the International Rosicrucian Order, is 
 composed of men and women interested in questions 
 of this nature, in self-evolution, and in securing the 
 logical answers to these questions. Therefore, they can 
 show you how, to your satisfaction, you may secure the 
 knowledge that lies behind the veil. They practiced 
 alchemy, mental alchemy, and transmuted elementary 
 principles into golden manifestations, they found the 
 key to life and death, health and disease, failure and 
 success, power and mastery. 
 
 HELP US SPREAD THE GREAT LIGHT 
 Rosicrucians are pledged to spread the Great Light 
 in every possible way. It is truly a joy to help bring 
 happiness, health, and prosperity into the lives of 
 others. You may not know just how the Rosicrucians 
 can aid you in your daily problems, but the way will 
 be pointed out to you, and you will become one of 
 the countless thousands in the world who shares the 
 knowledge of this very old and honored fraternity. 
 
 And now a new book — not for sale — but LOANED 
 to sincere students who seek self-evolution, has been 
 written by Sri. Ramatherio. It is called "The 
 Secret Heritage. " It contains the strange story of 
 the Rosicrucians and their secret doctrines and shows 
 HOW the absolutely sincere and worthy seeker of today 
 MAY BECOME a true student and adept of the knowl- 
 edge and attain such mastership as constitutes Rosicru- 
 cian Power. Only the sincere, however, promising to 
 give the matter careful thought and due consideration, 
 should apply for the book. Send a letter stating your 
 desire, and the book will be sent, postpaid, Address: 
 
 Chief Librarian 
 
 The Rosicrucians 
 
 (AMORC) 
 
 Rosicrucian Park - San Jose, California 
 
 (Remember, The Rosicrucians are NOT a religious organization.) 
 
 PRINTED IN U. S. A. 
 
QUATRAINS OF CHRIST 
 
 O come and through the latter years let ring 
 The golden song of faith, that echoing 
 
 From Heaven's gate, shall flame adown the dark. 
 And thrill crouched souls who have not learned to sing, 
 
 II. 
 
 Again a Star dawns in the Eastern sky, 
 Again the startled shepherd lifts his cry, 
 
 As waking from his midnight sleep, he sees 
 The camels of the Wise Men sweeping by. 
 
 III. 
 
 The years have worked their measure of decay. 
 Where is the inn or stable? Who can say, 
 
 "This is the spot," or "There the very place 
 Where Lord Christ came into the light of day?" 
 
(Stoairahtfl ©f Olljrtat 
 
 IV. 
 
 No more chants Caiphas his vengeful song, 
 And scattered to the wind is all the throng 
 
 That clamored for Barabbas, only held 
 In memory by reason of their wrong. 
 
 The weak souled Pilate long has passed away, 
 And Caesar, too, is now obstructive clay, 
 
 Their mighty Rome forgotten save as theme 
 To keep the grumbling schoolboy from his play. 
 
 VI. 
 
 But still the scent of frankincense and myrrh 
 Steals down the centuries, and as it were 
 
 But yesterday, so sweet and new it seems, 
 Did blessed Mary bear the Harbinger. 
 
 —10— 
 
<§uulmwB (§f (Mfxxst 
 
 VII. 
 
 But yesterday that through the stable gloom 
 An angel shape, with drooping pity's plume, 
 
 Swept beaded anguish from the Virgin's brow 
 That dewed sin-arid earth to vernal bloom. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Of all Thy gracious gifts, O God Most High, 
 The dearest of them all is this clear eye 
 
 Of faith, with which we shrine the miracle 
 Of far-off Bethlehem, and Time defy. 
 
 IX. 
 
 Aye bless us so, and let it never be 
 Like tapestried romance men peer to see, 
 
 Or some old song with meaning half-forgot, 
 That drowsy children hear at grandsire's knee. 
 
 — Jl— 
 
QpuatratttaflPfaHyriat 
 
 x. 
 
 Always a sense of vividness — the thrill 
 Of things intensely present — let us still 
 
 Appreciate that human flesh and blood 
 Were chosen to exemplify Thy will. 
 
 XL 
 
 Guard us from Habit's poppied charm, and let 
 The lotus-laden flight of Time beget 
 
 No faraway, faint half-rememberings, 
 No flick'ring shadow or wan silhouette. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Shrink not, but draw in wide eyed courage near 
 Each incident in all the Christ career — 
 
 From birth to cross there were no veils or walls, 
 And nearer makes it dearer and more clear. 
 
 -12- 
 
Qlhtatrattm (§i (tUfvist 
 
 XIII. 
 
 O Virgin, were thine eyes all unafraid, 
 
 Or didst thou shrink, sore startled and dismayed, 
 
 When first thou felt the mystic thrill, and learned 
 God's precious Burden had on thee been laid? 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Loud sang the golden-throated Cherubim, 
 And all the wheeling hosts of Seraphim, 
 
 Whose flashing pinions ermined humble thatch, 
 And shot with fire the Heaven's sapphire rim. 
 
 XV. 
 
 What must have been thy happy, sweet amaze 
 To see the sudden aureate halo blaze, 
 
 And from the wide-flung gates of Paradise 
 Hear mighty harmonies of joyous praise. 
 
 —13— 
 
^ttatraina ©f (Sttfvvat 
 
 XVI. 
 
 'Twere sweet if knowledge bridged the gap between 
 Christ's manger cradle and that later scene — 
 
 Companioned by the elders, gray and grim — 
 Full blossomed youth in favor and in mien. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Did laughter bubble as He leapt and ran? 
 Was He as others ere His work began 
 
 Of lifting from the World its dole of doubt, 
 And making straight Salvation's tender plan? 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Or was there hint of Pilate's fell decree, 
 The lonely horror of Gethsemane, 
 A prescience of thorny diadem, 
 Or shadow from the hill of Calvary? 
 
 -14- 
 
^ttatrattw ©f tityriat 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Did Mary's arms turn childish griefs to bliss? 
 Or did His holy mission make Him miss 
 The happiness of youth's abandonings, 
 The magic solace of a mother's kiss? 
 
 XX. 
 
 For, given then the secret of those years, 
 
 Long lapse of stripling days undamped with tears, 
 
 I could come nearer to Him, and athrill, 
 Be quit forever of my awes and fears. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Nay, Lord, let this not give offense to Thee, 
 For if a passion for sheer nearness be 
 
 Aroused by those of earth, then how much more 
 When Thou art loved in such superb degree. 
 
 —15— 
 
(Jjtoatraitw ©f OUjriat 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Mere thought of Thee doth pour into my veins 
 The leaping flame that burned the sullen stains 
 
 Of sin from out the broidered Cloth of Life, 
 And charred a hopeless world's repressive chains. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 The marvel blaze that blinded raging Saul, 
 And held black Herod's savage soul in thrall — 
 
 That swept from Mary all her silks and shame 
 And ashed the splendor of her onyxed hall. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 How doth it rapture fancy and enchain 
 Belief and love to marshal once again 
 
 The huge, kaleidoscopic surge of men 
 Who felt that flame and followed in His train. 
 
 —16— 
 
<piiatrafeui®f flHpriat 
 
 xxv. 
 
 Bethink you of this following! No part 
 
 Gave all, nor class — as mountain torrents start 
 
 In spring, they poured from palace, tent and cot, 
 From sea and field, the desert and the mart. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 Fierce Syrians, swart Punic chiefs, and bands 
 From Ethiop, grim Romans who in many lands 
 
 Had seen strange gods, Egyptians, fire-eyed Gauls, 
 Pale Greeks, and nomads yellowed with far sands. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 So hugely great the number, none can tell 
 How many died in circus or in cell, 
 
 For Him who was of their own day — and still 
 We yield to Controversy's wasting spell! 
 
 -17- 
 
(^uotrautB ©f Oltfriat 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 "For Him who was of their own day!" Ah, there 
 We have a sword, all reason-forged, to wear 
 
 And wield in swirling splendor when against 
 The Powers of the Dark we do and dare. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Its hilt star-studded by the mad array 
 
 Of gems that ransomed Mary threw away, 
 
 The flaming, far-flung jewels that were Saul's 
 When stricken cities knew his ruthless sway. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 What witnesses ! And there was Pilate's wife 
 Who pleaded for the Galilean's life, 
 
 And tiger-hearted Herod, over-awed, 
 Refused Christ Jesus to the headsman's knife. 
 
 -is- 
 
(fuatratttfi ©f OHjrtat 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Lo, martyrs' blood cascades from ev'ry page 
 Of history, and Nero's demon rage 
 
 Still chills the heart — then shall our voices rise, 
 And futile argument our minds engage? 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 As homing birds flee from the darkling West, 
 As babes with thrusting lips seek mother breast, 
 
 So do I turn to Thee, thou tender Christ, 
 My tear-scorched eyes asmile, my doubts confessed. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 In loving Thee I seek not Logic's aid, 
 Nor do I ever ask to have displayed 
 
 Disrupted Science's close-written page, 
 Filled with conjectures restless minds have made. 
 
 —19— 
 
($nvXtuma (§f Qllivwt 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 But listen to my heart, for as we see 
 A child, locked in, leap up when it may be 
 The watched-for loved one comes at last, 
 So does it leap, O Lord, to welcome Thee. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 Men sing of that they love, and have so sung 
 In many ways since first the earth was young, 
 
 So shall I then, in simple fashion, ease 
 A heart by lack of full confession wrung. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 Simplicity! No other way is clear 
 
 That may, at end of all, bring pilgrims near 
 
 To Thee, O one white Flower swaying fair 
 Amid the evil blooms of yester-year. 
 
 -20— 
 
{fuatrauw Wf (tUfvvst 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 No worship where pale priestesses supine 
 All bloodily adore some midnight shrine, 
 
 No mystic murmurings or strangled scream, 
 But gentle song, sweet words and flower shine. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Then must my flame-eyed muse now strip, abashed, 
 Of flowing, purpled splendors, jewel-splashed, 
 And take the narrow path in cooling white, 
 Her hair the maiden's way, and lily sashed. 
 
 —21— 
 
(guatrauus ©f floruit 
 
 xxxix. 
 
 Where Alexander's steel with all its stains? 
 Attila's mace that crumbled haughty reigns? 
 
 Alaric's lance or Soldan's scimetar? 
 The Savior's fadeless palm alone remains. 
 
 XL. 
 
 O Prince of Peace, Thy argent temple yields 
 
 Far richer spoils than e'er were brought on shields 
 
 From sack of Lydian metropolis, 
 Or plundering of prostrate Persia's fields. 
 
 XLI. 
 
 The ancient chains that weighed a people down, 
 Oppression's dripping sword, the prison gown 
 
 Of Opportunity, Injustice's red scourge, 
 And Tyranny's once awe-inspiring crown. 
 
(^uatrauta <©f QIIirtBt 
 
 XLII. 
 
 And over all, like Paradisal snow, 
 
 The great World Rose's petals drift and glow — 
 
 The thorns turned pointless in Thy heart of hearts, 
 The blossom for Thy children here below. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 The wind that moaned an ancient pain away 
 Was soothed of all its sobs and sick dismay — 
 
 Thou gav'st new courage to the coward dawn 
 And glad triumphant guidons to the day. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 For fevered living, fret and pain the price, 
 Until the oil of Thy dear sacrifice 
 
 Assuaged, and smoothed a halcyon expanse 
 To mirror the allure of Paradise. 
 
<$mtvum* <§f (UfaM 
 
 XLV. 
 
 What eye was dry, what heart by grief unswirled, 
 Until Thy mystic might at Nain hurled 
 
 Death's menace back upon itself and stilled 
 The immemorial wailing of the world? 
 
 XLVI. 
 
 Mayhap, when Twilight's sombre hosts parade, 
 That Terror's tears will hail the hasting Shade — 
 
 Believe it ancient weakness of the flesh — 
 My soul awaits Thy call all unafraid. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 But will Thou not be tender of this fear, 
 As mothers comfort when the dark is near, 
 
 And while I huddle in the haunted gloom, 
 Throw wide the gate, and let Thy light appear. 
 
 —24— 
 
(!Puatrat«0 Wf Olljrtat 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 Is it too much to ask, or will Thy wrath 
 Be kindled by the seeming doubt that hath 
 
 Its base in dread? Ah, no, the dying thief 
 Was fearful too, and Thou didst blaze his path. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 And as I, kneeling, breathe my silent prayer, 
 When weak of heart or weighted with despair, 
 
 I think of how the faithful Simon once 
 Did help Thee, weary Christ, Thy cross to bear. 
 
 O cruel cross and Calvary's wild stress! 
 A crown of thorns, a vacant tomb, the press 
 
 Of traitor lips — what sorry gifts indeed 
 To counterpoise eternal happiness! 
 
 —25— 
 
(fmttrautfi ©f Gltjrifii 
 
 LI. 
 
 IBut it is done ! The strange exchange is made ! 
 Salvation is for all, the price is paid — 
 
 So let us, shriven and consoled, abide 
 In meek acceptance of the gracious trade. 
 
 LII. 
 
 Not always laughing, nay, nor yet the tear, 
 Not brazen forwardness nor shrinking fear, 
 
 But aye serene in perfect confidence 
 Of Triune love and mercy ever near. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 Full sad Thy life and blanched by frequent tears, 
 But one finds not that anywhere appears 
 Grim Melancholy as Thy chosen friend, 
 Or sombre Gloom as master of Thy years. 
 
 —26— 
 
tynvtxmm <§f (Elitist 
 
 LIV. 
 
 So let us never be afraid to rise 
 
 In firm aloofness from among the eyes 
 
 That shut to light and beauty, and all blind, 
 Invoke an austere Christ with sobs and sighs. 
 
 LV. 
 
 Full oft must Thou have paused in greening vale, 
 And, seeing soul-white blossoms grow less pale 
 
 Beneath a young sun's shy caress, thrilled deep, 
 And prayed of God that loveliness prevail. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 Earth heard and hid her scars at Thy command, 
 Threw viny mantles o'er the unrich land, 
 
 Flung flowers to the waste, and palms and springs 
 Companioned to redeem the desert's sand. 
 
 —27— 
 
(Quatrains ©f flHjriat 
 
 LVII. 
 
 And — love exquisite! — Thou hast last the rose, 
 The swaying fragrance of the garden close, 
 Stand forth as fair, renewing monuments, 
 To mark where clean hearts find a brief repose. 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 Nay, Nazarene, Thou art the soul and source 
 Of all true joy. I will myself divorce 
 
 From gloom, and Death shall hear a happy song 
 When he shall reach me in his sombre course. 
 
 LIX. 
 
 Ah, sweet the world since to Thy tender breast 
 Thou gathered all that darkened and oppressed, 
 
 And leaving naught but beauty and delight, 
 Pursued Thy way to Calvary's sad rest. 
 
 —28- 
 
qpuatrauta ©f Olljriat 
 
 LX. 
 
 What madness then to seek what He hath ta'en, 
 To lift the cup of bitter wine and drain 
 
 Its dregs, or grope to find the crown of thorns, 
 All drunkenly infatuate with pain. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 Dear Jesu, never let me be afraid 
 
 To sing my love in lilting strain, nor swayed 
 
 By such as have no heart for happiness, 
 And build their altars in Golgotha's shade. 
 
 LXIL 
 
 *Tis good to read the written tale of those 
 
 Who shared His triumphs and condoled His woes, 
 
 And mark the dauntlessness of their intent 
 To soothe the rigor of an early prose. 
 
 -29— 
 
(^trains (§t OWjriat 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 What better if their words fell soft as lace 
 On silken breasts? Or that they had the grace 
 
 Of sylvan silhouettes? The homely mesh 
 Does but enhance Truth's never-changing face. 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 As mother countries send a guarded fire 
 To light a new land's altars, O Desire 
 
 Of all the World, flame in sad souls a flare 
 Of faith from off Thy Pentecostal pyre. 
 
 —30- 
 
(JPuatrautfi©f«M|rtfit 
 
 LXV. 
 
 Let fools with much pretense of wisdom scout 
 The News, and wag their heads in owlish doubt 
 
 Of great Jehovah's all-embracing scheme 
 Because there is a Door they stand without. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 Content are we, the children of His hand, 
 To watch and wait, nor blatantly demand, 
 
 Assured that in God's own good time He will 
 Unlock the Door, and let us understand. 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 With all the wonder of the world before 
 
 Our eyes, His love unfolding more and more, 
 
 Shall we not grasp the Miracle of Life, 
 Ere thronging fierce and clamant at the Door? 
 
 -31— 
 
(§n$tmmz ©f aUprutf 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 I have no gift to see beyond the years, 
 But when repentance came with helpful tears 
 Dear Faith accompanied, and has remained 
 To guard my soul against recurring fears. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 Too much of rain may fall and rot the vine, 
 
 A drought burn bare the field, the first born pine, 
 
 Disaster raze the House of Happiness — 
 Small things to match against the Plan divine. 
 
 LXX. 
 
 When sleeps the trusting soul in sweet content, 
 Faith marshaling its dreams, and all unrent 
 
 By warring doubts and mad unrests, then why 
 Awake and plunge it into vain ferment? 
 
 -32- 
 
Qhtatrauta ©f (SLipxst 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 Chaos first reigned. Did star call unto star, 
 The seas select their beds, and from afar 
 
 The worlds assemble to assign their swings, 
 Or did a Master place them as they are? 
 
 LXXII. 
 
 And if 'twas God that entered brooding Space, 
 And gave to everything a plan and place, 
 
 Was it a childish game He stooped to play, 
 And, having played, then turned away His face? 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 The queenly seasons, flashingly arrayed, 
 In tuneful, circumstantial pomp parade, 
 
 And on the carpet-stretch of splendid days, 
 The varied wonders of the world are laid. 
 
 —33— 
 
<$ tratrautfl Wi QHjrtfit 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 The singing soul's insistent, yearning strain 
 Tells immortality, yet are there vain 
 
 And insolent demands for guarantee 
 That we shall come to live and love again. 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 'Tis of His wisdom that He does not set 
 Ungrateful doubts at rest, else would we let 
 
 Mad passions loose, and scornful of this life, 
 Give over to neglect and evil fret. 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 Think you that He who wakes the vernal seed 
 From where it sleeps with death beneath the mead, 
 
 Will coldly let His imaged children sink 
 To nothingness, and pay no further heed? 
 
 -34— 
 
qpuatrattta ©f ffllfriat 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 Today will Yesterday's rare rose entomb, 
 Ah, yes, but where a hint of final doom ? 
 
 Some rest, the trumpet call, a judgment passed, 
 And then Tomorrow's new and richer bloom. 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 What mad pretense it is that fails to hear 
 The symphony of suns, and shuts the ear 
 
 When through the joyous lilt of growing things, 
 The testimony of the sea comes clear. 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 Look to the singing seed and sap. The whole 
 Of nature races to an unseen goal, 
 
 Where God, the Master of the Games, hath hung 
 The high incentive of a human soul. 
 
 -33- 
 
Q^uatraitta ©f OHjnat 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 I know that many are the tales they tell 
 Of fearful flames in an enduring hell, 
 But ever have they failed to terrify, 
 So powerful Creation's tender spell. 
 
 LXXXI. 
 
 The Hand that wrought with such a sure intent, 
 And half of Heaven's hoarded beauty spent 
 
 Upon the world, could never clench to strike, 
 Or hurl a sightless soul to punishment. 
 
 LXXXII. 
 
 The message of a day is altered by 
 The thoughts of those that pass it on, then why 
 Assume God's word uncolored and unchanged 
 By all His messengers since Sinai? 
 
 —36- 
 
(Quatrains ©f QUjrtat 
 
 LXXXIII. 
 
 By paths of peril, agony and shame, 
 
 Past coupled menaces of sword and flame, 
 
 Through wolf-fanged centuries that howled their 
 hate — 
 'Twas in such way the holy message came. 
 
 LXXXIV. 
 
 Great souls who suffered silently, and yet 
 What blame to them if all the hate they met 
 
 Bit passion deep, and charged their carried words 
 With less of gentleness and more of threat? 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 But let it pass. This night a moon shall rise 
 To paint a pledge of peace upon the skies, 
 
 And with the splendor of the morning come 
 A reassuring sun to kiss our eyes. 
 
 —37— 
 
(Quatrains ©f OUfrtsi 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 Eolian Ariels shall gaily spill 
 
 Earth's chaliced charm, and quickened by the shrill 
 
 Sweet bugles of the dawn, sweep swiftly on 
 To fret the frondage of the dreaming hill. 
 
 LXXXVII. 
 
 And ere the burning noon shall faint and fail 
 A joy-mad lark shall brave the higher gale 
 
 To sing his love, and jealously efface 
 The echoed mem'ries of the nightingale. 
 
 LXXXVIII. 
 
 O World of beauty ! World of charm ! Where naught 
 Is left to vagrant chance, or ever brought 
 To drear misuse by want of tenderness, 
 Or e'er a second's lack of loving thought. 
 
 —38- 
 
({teatrattta ©f GUjrtut 
 
 LXXXIX. 
 
 Lord, dost offend, this simple, hackneyed strain 
 In pointed praise of that which should be plain- 
 This poor attempt to garland crumbling phrase, 
 Somewhat of charm and newness to attain? 
 
 iwric 
 
 XC. 
 
 O let me take the world's old worn-out tongue 
 And crush it to the vague from which it sprung, 
 
 Then fashion from the inarticulate, 
 New songs to vary those that have been sung. 
 
 XCI. 
 
 Yet is it not the singer nor the song, 
 But faith alone, so Ignorance's long 
 
 Monotonies may vie with jeweled psalm, 
 And echo in Thine ear as clear and strong? 
 
 -39- 
 
Qteatrattui <$f fflljnat 
 
 xcn. 
 
 Full oft from out the pleasure groves that lie 
 About the Vineyard comes the taunting cry, 
 
 "Why toil ye through the pleasant days, O Fools? 
 Hast ever yet beheld the Master's eye?" 
 
 XCIII. 
 
 Ah, sweet the luring shade at noontide's heat, 
 With garland-weaving Phyllis near, and sweet 
 
 The lulling song, the heart-compelling pipe, 
 The rythmic twinkling of the dancers' feet. 
 
 XCIV. 
 
 They chant the sun, the rose ; and dreamy-eyed, 
 Sing sultans, beauty, wine, the pomp and pride 
 That ever tends on Pleasure's golden court, 
 Till simple Faith seems very poor beside. 
 
 40— 
 
(jjhtairauta ©f CWjriHt 
 
 xcv. 
 
 And soft as flower-petals Chloe's breast, 
 Its creamy charm alluringly confessed — 
 
 Aye, soft as blossoms in a prince's keep, 
 Slave-watched, and by Hyblean winds caressed. 
 
 XCVI. 
 
 But night descends and ends the dream, 
 The piping fails, the song becomes a scream, 
 Poor Chloe's breast is cold, the roses droop, 
 And Phyllis whimpers by the darkling stream. 
 
 XCVII. 
 
 The night that frightens idlers brings me peace, 
 The dusk that scatters them marks my release, 
 
 And so throughout the day I toil content, 
 Until the twilight's signal of surcease. 
 
 —41— 
 
(Jteiratna ©f (Htyvxzt 
 
 xcvm. 
 
 The Vineyard hath its heat and hurt, and thin 
 My cheeks with tears, but what a goal to win, 
 
 And there are Jordan's banks all soft with shade, 
 And Kedron's flow to lave the body in. 
 
 XCIX. 
 
 'Tis written so upon the world's great crest, 
 A million things in Nature all attest 
 
 A perfect law of balance which makes clear 
 That only those who work shall know His rest. 
 
 C. 
 
 Sin may with gorgeousness conceal its dole, 
 And gloriously garb the body's whole 
 
 In dream-born tissues soft as Circe's lips, 
 But only faith can ornament the soul. 
 
 -42— 
 
(®mtta\m ©fflHjrtet 
 
 ci. 
 
 A finer savor has the beaded brine 
 
 That drops from brow to lip than all the wine, 
 
 And dearer far the laurel's sober leaves 
 Than gaily flaunting garlands from the vine. 
 
 CII. 
 
 So toil, ye faithful, ever toil, nor yet 
 The ends and purposes of toil forget, 
 
 But through the day of honest effort send 
 A look of love to where God's throne is set. 
 
 cm. 
 
 For some, eyes hard upon the little place 
 They plot and potter in, ne'er raise a face, 
 Until Death's heavy hand arouses them 
 To cringe before an undreamt, greater space. 
 
 —43— 
 
(fmtiratttfl (§f (fUftwt 
 
 civ. 
 
 The Pearl of Peace cannot be bought by strands 
 Of gems, or treasure gathered from far lands — 
 
 Remember Simon Magus failed to buy 
 God's gift from Philip of the Blessed Hands. 
 
 CV. 
 
 Salvation has no price, but all must ask 
 
 Who would receive the boon, nor wear a mask 
 
 To shield the shame and evil in their eyes, 
 And hide a face unbronzed by worthy task. 
 
 CVI. 
 
 "We are what God has made us" is the cry 
 Of greatest vogue — the fool's excuse, the sigh 
 Of those who dwell in weakness, or the call 
 Of reckless souls who openly defy. 
 
 —44— 
 
QPuotratttB (©f QIIjrtHt 
 
 CVII. 
 
 A sorry subterfuge, and all in vain, 
 As when the leper leaves his cavern, fain 
 To be as others for a space, and seeks 
 A mantle for his pestilential pain. 
 
 CVIII. 
 
 God gave us mind and will ; we are the free 
 Unfettered masters of our destiny, 
 
 And not as He did make us will He judge, 
 But as His Word has meant that we should be. 
 
 CIX. 
 
 Success in myriad degree and grade 
 Will gather there, but be ye unafraid, 
 
 For He hath witnessed all, and will reward 
 Not by exploits, but by the effort made. 
 
 —45— 
 
(Jpuatratua (§f (£\\xwt 
 
 ex. 
 
 The fevered throng infrequently condoles 
 With effort-filled defeat, and often aureoles 
 
 Unfair success, but God's dear mercy makes 
 All well within the Marketplace of Souls. 
 
 CXI. 
 
 God's mercy! 'Tis the level where agree 
 The rich, the poor, the fettered and the free, 
 
 And where the slave's entreaty rings as clear 
 As some imposing Sultan's haughty plea. 
 
 CXII. 
 
 God's marketplace ! Where subtly swift and strange 
 The values of this sorry world all change, 
 
 So that the widow's mite will buy e'en more 
 Than all the wealth of Ophir's golden range. 
 
 46- 
 
(rpuatraina (§f flUpriat 
 
 m CXIII. 
 
 Strange, then, that with it all so clear and straight 
 There should be argument, high-pitched debate, 
 
 Dark misconceptions bred in angry hearts, 
 And swirling mists of controversial hate. 
 
 CXIV. 
 
 Thus, awe-struck and afraid, some fear God's grace, 
 And, crouching, cringing, franticly abase 
 
 Themselves, while others scorn the bended knee. 
 And harden eyes to look Him in the face. 
 
 cxv. 
 
 I fear Him not, nor Judgment Day's ordeal, 
 For He is good and just ; but ever kneel, 
 
 Not in servility, but as a sign 
 Of all the love and gratitude I feel. 
 
 -47— 
 
(fuairauui ©f OUpriat 
 
 cxvi. 
 
 He moulded suns, and fashioned seas and land, 
 He gave us life, and with His mighty hand 
 Arched Heaven over all, then sent a Son 
 To consummate the scheme His love had planned. 
 
 CXVII. 
 
 A Son all reft of princely circumstance, 
 Those glories that the kingly lot enhance, 
 
 And sent along the way of sacrifice, 
 A path that took no heed of change or chance. 
 
 CXVIII. 
 
 And that the humblest might not miss the clue, 
 Denied the royal birth that was His due, 
 
 Delivered by a Virgin in the dark, 
 Her bed of pain the straw the cattle knew. 
 
 —48— 
 
<$uatratna ©f Qllpwt 
 
 cxix. 
 
 Strange, then, that with this beauty all about 
 The shining path that points the one way out, 
 
 There should be unrequited wanderings — 
 Allurement in the sterile fields of Doubt. 
 
 cxx. 
 
 What midnight madness not to understand, 
 To flee the happiness divinely planned, 
 
 And in some tangle mow a matted head, 
 And boast escape from Mercy's reaching hand. 
 
 CXXI. 
 
 And strange that sons of Thomas still abide 
 With us on earth, and still the truth deride, 
 
 Because they cannot grasp His nail-torn hands 
 And see the blood gush from His pierced side. 
 
($ uatraitfs Wf flUjriat 
 
 CXXII. 
 
 O shame of shames ! The Wise Men saw on high 
 God's guiding Star gleam in the Eastern Sky, 
 
 And straightway journeyed forth across the world, 
 With ne'er a question asked of Where or Why. 
 
 CXXIII. 
 
 Thy place within the Heavens ever hold, 
 O Blessed Star, and like those men of old 
 
 May we have faith and hope to follow on, 
 And at our Journey's end the Christ behold. 
 
 —50— 
 
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