God called His winds to that array,

And all the burden of the world,
And all the tears from all men's eyes,
Drought, dew, and every flower unfurled,
The priest, the fire, the sacrifice,
The pillared cloud, His thunder hurled--
Victor, He held as nought the price!

Thus loved, thus wrought, God deemed the stone
Fit bed for beasts to lie upon.

* * * * *

O God of Gods, make short my days
Of blind approach to her and Thee;
Life-long upon Thy rugged ways
Her heart has danced: she calls to me.
Hast Thou forgotten me alone,
O Watcher where the wild beast lies?--
Mould to Thy will this other stone
--A stone, yet precious in her eyes.


_LUX IN TENEBRIS_

Spirit of smiles and tears, you came to me in the night,
The golden moon aglow in your hair, and the spear-driven light
Of an army of stars in your eyes, weary with truant sleep.
O little skilled in self, who thought you came to weep!