THE WATCHMAN ON THE TOWER 423 pinessworking miracles in culture of the soil, and in the cure of sickness; I behold Art going up and down the land, making homes and cities more beautiful; I behold Service honored above possessions; I see men as brothers, -in times of calm and in days of monstrous calamity, stretching hands to one another over lands and seas, and across the ancient barriers of race, and religion, and condition; I see the hearts of men go out, in new love and care and understanding, to the beasts of the field and to the birds of the air; I hear the voices of poets and prophets troubling the hearts and lifting up the souls of all mankind; and in all these I see the mind of the Son of Man, and the power of the Will Eternal. O Seer of Good and Evil, what else, what else? Near by I behold the Angel of a People, and in his hand he bears a standard whereon is writ, in letters of light, the one word Truth; higher he bears the standard than ever before, and the people, in gathering numbers, follow the Word. And what of the evil things that late thou sawest? Still I see them, and many more, but fainter are they growing, as by some element of light consumed. Yet doth one strange and greatly evil thing loom with menace against the dawn-the shadow of false and self-seeking men who seize the banner of righteousness and with unclean hands uplift it, to the deceiving of many; and yet even here, I know, it is the love of Right and not of Wrong which doth mislead; and as the light increases, surely the pure in heart shall know their own and shun the deceiver of souls. And what of the good that late thou sawest ? O still I see the good, and with clearer eyes; and, lo, it doth appear that, in the light of the New Dawn, greater and always greater grows the good, and nearer and always nearer. For now, with the rising sun, a company of angels in new flight lift their wings and come upon the day, and one is the bright Angel of Freedom, and one the strong Angel of Justice, and one is the undaunted Angel of Peace, and one the Angel of Hope Everlasting. With a great and wonderful burst of light they come, and with loud music of instruments and many voices. O Watcher of the Dawn! thou seest what is, but canst thou see what yet shall be? O ye who doubt! In the visible present lives the invisible future, and the hour that is brings the hour that shall be. If the Light grows, it shall not cease to grow; and the good that is brings the good that is to come. As with separate souls, so with peoples-the New Year, tho' it holds inheritance of shame and loss, holds, also, inheritance of striving, and accomplishment, and divine aspiration. Lo, the Light is climbing, not only of a New Year, but of a New Era for the awakening world. UNDER THE STARS A REQUIEM FOR AUGUSTUS SAINT-GAUDENS I O KINDRED stars, wherethrough his soul in flight Of wealth untold, the still ungathered fruit UNDER THE STARS 425 II O silent stars! even as I harken here, Heart-heavy, a murmurous and mysterious voice, III O star of fire! he was thy very child! Mixt with his blood thy fierce, ensanguined ray! 'Gainst the proud forces of the sordid day He battled valiantly, all unbeguiled By what might tempt or foil a lesser soul. Not wealth, nor ease, nor praise unworthily won Could touch his spirit; "There the swift course to run!" "There, there, O see! the bright, immortal goal!" IV Thou star of blood and battle! rich and sweet V O starry skies! O palpitant winds whose throbbings Are lost. How dear to him who lieth low The garment wonderful wild nature throws VI White, trembling fires of the unknown universe! Of one who, in the splendor of his passion, VII O stars that sing as in creation's prime! And from their life new life shall spring again, VIII Ye stars, all music to the spirit's ear! So in his lines the haunting strains of lyres, UNDER THE STARS 427 IX Red star of war! thy sons did he enshrine The fire and fury of battle he made real, X O fateful stars! that lit the climbing way Of that dear, martyred son of fate and fame,— soul of an immortal day, The The gaunt, sweet presence of our chief of men ΧΙ Stars of white midnight! tho' unseen by day, Telling in art what words might not contain,- XII Mysterious sky! where orbs constellate reign! Toward which the heart of man through endless ages |