FAILURE AND SUCCESS

Duty that passion of the soul which from the sod

Alone lifts man to God.

XII

So nobly past this unknown hero of the war;

And heroes, near and far,

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Sleep now in graves like his unfamed in song or story — But theirs is more than glory!

TO THE SPIRIT OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN (REUNION AT GETTYSBURG TWENTY-FIVE YEARS AFTER THE BATTLE)

SHADE of our greatest, O look down to-day!

Here the long, dread midsummer battle roared,
And brother in brother plunged the accursed sword;
Here foe meets foe once more in proud array,
Yet not as once to harry and to slay,

But to strike hands, and with sublime accord
Weep tears heroic for the souls that soared
Quick from earth's carnage to the starry way.
Each fought for what he deemed the people's good,
And proved his bravery by his offered life,
And sealed his honor with his outpoured blood;
But the Eternal did direct the strife,

And on this sacred field one patriot host

Now calls thee father dear, majestic ghost!

FAILURE AND SUCCESS

(G. C., 1888)

He fails who climbs to power and place
Up the pathway of disgrace.

He fails not who makes truth his cause,
Nor bends to win the crowd's applause.

He fails not, he who stakes his all
Upon the right, and dares to fall; —
What tho' the living bless or blame,
For him the long success of fame.

J. R. L.

ON HIS BIRTHDAY

NAVIES nor armies can exalt the state;
Millions of men, nor coinèd wealth untold;
Down to the pit may sink a land of gold;
But one great name can make a country great.

NAPOLEON

A SOUL inhuman? No, but human all,
If human is each passion man has known:
Scorn, hate, and love; the lust of empire, grown
To such a hight as did the world appall; -
If the same human soul may soar and crawl
As soared his and as crawled; if to be shown
The utmost heaven and hell; if to atone

For power consummate by colossal fall;

If human 't is to see friend, partizan,

Turn, dastardly, the imperial. hand to tear That fed them; if through gnawing years to plan Vengeance, and space to breathe the unfettered air No alien from his kind but very man Slow perished on that island of despair.

THE WHITE CZAR'S PEOPLE

PART I

THE White Czar's people cry:

"Thou God of the heat and the cold,

Of storm and of lightning,

THE WHITE CZAR'S PEOPLE

Of darkness, and dawn's red brightening;
Hold, Lord God, hold,

Hold Thy hand lest we curse Thee and die."

The White Czar's people pray:

"Thou God of the South and the North,

We are crusht, we are bleeding;

'Tis Christ, 't is Thy Son interceding; Forth, Lord, come forth!

Bid the slayer no longer slay."

The White Czar's people call

Aloud to the skies of lead:

"We are slaves, not freemen;

Ourselves, our children, our women
Dead, we are dead,

Tho' we breathe, we are dead men all.

"Blame not if we misprize Thee

Who can, but will not draw near.

'Tis Thou who hast made us

Not Thou, dread God, to upbraid us.

Hear, Lord God, hear!

Lest we whom Thou madest despise Thee."

PART II

Then answered the Most High God,

Lord of the heat and the cold,

Of storm and of lightning,

Of darkness, and dawn's red brightening:

"Bold, yea, too bold,

Whom I wrought from the air and the clod!

"Hast thou forgotten from me

Are those ears so quick to hear

165

The passion and anguish

Of your sisters, your children who languish

Near? Ah, not near

Far off by the uttermost sea!

"Who gave ye your brains to plan Your hearts to suffer and bleed? Why call ye on heaven

'Tis the earth that to you is given! Plead, ye may plead,

But for man I work through man.

"Who gave ye a voice to utter

Your tale to the wind and the sea?

One word well spoken

And the iron gates are broken!

From me, yea, from me

The word that ye will not mutter.

"I love not murder but ruth.

Begone from my sight ye who take

The knife of the coward

Even ye who by heaven were dowered!

Wake ye, O wake,

And strike with the sword of Truth!

"Fear ye lest I misprize ye.

I who fashioned not brutes, but men. After the lightning

And darkness the dawn's red brightening!

Men! Be ye men!

Lest I who made ye despise ye!"

167

CHARLESTON

PART III

(January 22, 1905)

The great word is uttered, at last!

White Czar! O, where hast thou fled?
Thy children, heart-broken,

To thee their sorrows have spoken!
To thee it is said-

That WORD on the wings of the blast!

For the word is their fearful cry,

And the word is their innocent blood.

O, red is the chalice

Lifted up to thy empty palace!

Blood, crimson blood,

On the snows where the murdered lie!

Their shed blood is the word! It is winning
Its way swift from zone unto zone;

Through the world it has thrilled

And the heart of the nations stilled.

Alone, thou alone!

Art thou deaf to the voice and the meaning?

Lo, it swells like the sound of the sea.

Dull monarch! yet, yet, shalt thou hear it.

For, once 'neath the sun

By the brave it is spoken-all's done!

Hear it and fear it;

For "Freedom" it cries, "We are free!"

CHARLESTON

1886

Is this the price of beauty! Fairest, thou,

Of all the cities of the sunrise sea,