SACRIFICE Love suffereth all things, And we, Out of the travail and pain of our striving, For the lips of no man utter love, Suffering even for love's sake. For us no splendid apparel of pageantry Burnished breast-plates, scarlet banners, and trumpets Sounding exultantly. But the mean things of the earth Thou has chosen, Decked them with suffering; Made them beautiful with the passion for rightness, Strong with the pride of love. Yea, though our praise of Thee slayeth us, And the earth again be beautiful with orchards, And the lips of others praise Thee, though our lips Be stopped with earth, and songless. Yet we shall have brought Thee their praises For the lips of no man utter love, Suffering even for love's sake. O God of sorrows, Whose feet come softly through the dews, Stoop Thou unto us, For we die so Thou livest, Our hearts the cups of Thy vintage: And the lips of no man utter love, Suffering even for love's sake. 19022: Private Frederic Manning, 3rd R. S. L. I. on Warren! THE WILD BIRD Like silence of a starlit sky, Like wild birds rising into night, Such was her dying, such her flight But I, who dwell with memory, Too high, and needing love no more Gretchen Warren HE BUILDETH HIS HOUSE He hewed him the gray cold rock To make the foundations under. God sighed: "Why build so tall THE POET'S PART L.A. Ling It is a little world where poets dwell- Yet ever does the great world in its might Swing onward through the darkness by the light Caught up by poet hand from poet hand; Lily A. Long THE WIND IN THE TREES The wind goes whispering The leaves among; It has a silken, A siren tongue. The leaves all listen Quivering there; A thousand kisses So stirs my heart When he goes by: Wind is a breath, Love is a sigh. Lulu W. Knight GOOD MORNING Why, there's the morning and get-up-o'clock! The dream-dewed freshness and the keen delight— Do you remember? There-those ashes were Our fire last night; the sun is laughing at them. Look in the valley where we passed beforeYou see that little winding of the road? The selfsame, big, important yesterday That seemed so steep and threatening a hill! Come, let us bathe and break the fast and start! Peter Norden TO A CERTAIN FAIR LADY Your heart is like a poplar tree, Full of sunlit greenery, A thin lace pattern on the sky, That trembles when the winds go by. And every zephyr, every day, Lyman Bryson |