With a faith that will not fade.

* * * * *

But the children out on the common
They answer her dreary call,
And say: "He will come to-morrow!"
Who never will come at all.

WIRASTRUA

Wirastrua, wirastrua, woe to me that you are dead!
The corpse has spoken from out his bed,
"Yesternight my burning brain
Throbbed and beat on the strings of pain:
Now I rest, all my dreaming's done,
In the world behind the sun.
Yesterday I toiled full sore,
To-day I ride in a coach and four.
Yesternight in the streets I lay,
To-night with kings, and as good as they."
Wirastrua! wirastrua! would I were lying as cold as you.

QUESTIONS

What is the secret of your life, browsing ox,
Ox the sweet grass eating?
Who strung the mighty sinews in your flesh?
Who set that great heart beating?

What is the secret of your death, soulless ox,
Ox so patiently waiting?
Why hath pain wove her net for your brain's anguish
If for you Death will gain no life's creating?

A LITTLE DOG

A little dog disturbed my trust in Heaven.
I praised most faithfully
All the great things that be,
Man's pain and pleasure even,
I said though hard this weighing
Of pains and tears and praying
He will reward most just.

I said your bitter weeping man or maid,
Your tears or laughter
Shall gain a just Hereafter;
Meet you the will of God then unafraid,
Gird you to your trials for God's abode
Is open for all sorrow;
Live for the great to-morrow.
There passed me on the road

A little dog with hungry eyes, and sad
Thin flesh all shivering,
All sore and quivering,
Whining beneath the fell disease he had.
I hurried home and praised God as before
For thus affording
To man rewarding,
The dog was whining outside my door.

I flung it wide, and said, Come enter in,
Outcast of God.
Beneath His rod
You suffer sore, poor beast, that had no sin.
Not at my door then must you cry complaining
Your lot unjust,
But His who thrust
You from His door your body maiming.

Not mine the pleasure that you bear this pain,
Hurled into being
Without hope of freeing
By grief and patience a soul for any gain.
Thus I reproached God while I tended
The sores to healing
A voice stealing
And whispering out of the beast I friende