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Page 146 - There lived a singer in France of old By the tideless dolorous midland sea. In a land of sand and ruin and gold There shone one woman, and none but she. And finding life for her love's sake fail, Being fain to see her, he bade set sail, Touched land, and saw her as life grew cold, And praised God, seeing ; and so died he. Died, praising God for his gift and grace : For she bowed down to him weeping, and said " Live ; " and her tears were shed on his face Or ever the life in his face was shed.
Page 60 - Is it worth while that we jostle a brother Bearing his load on the rough road of life? Is it worth while that we jeer at each other In blackness of heart — that we war to the knife?
Page 13 - I question'd not as many do, Of things as sacred as this is ; I only knew that he to me Was all a father, friend, could be ; I sought to know no more than this Of history of him or his. A piercing eye, a princely air, A presence like a chevalier, Half angel and half Lucifer...
Page 52 - She has sinn'd; let the blameless Come forward and cast the first stone!" But they, they fled shamed and yet shameless; And she, she stood white and alone. Who now shall accuse and arraign us? What man shall condemn and disown? Since Christ has said only the stainless Shall cast at his fellows a stone.
Page 15 - One bloom of crimson crowned its head, A drop of blood, so bright, so red, Yet redolent as roses' tears. In my left hand I held a shell, All rosy...
Page 11 - Or sang low-hanging overhead — Sang low, as if they sang and slept, Sang faint, like some far waterfall, And took no note of us at all, Though nuts that in the way were spread Did crush and crackle as we stept.
Page 9 - I have said, and I say it ever, As the years go on and the world goes over, 'Twere better to be content and clever In tending of cattle and tossing of clover, In the grazing of cattle and the growing of grain, Than a strong man striving for fame or gain...
Page 99 - As if to drown the falling sun. They saw the snowy mountains roll'd, And heaved along the nameless lands Like mighty billows ; saw the gold Of awful sunsets ; saw the blush Of sudden dawn, and felt the hush Of heaven when the day sat down, And hid his face in dusky hands.
Page 99 - Cleave softly through the mellow loam Where you have made eternal home, And set no sign. Your epitaphs Are writ in furrows. Beauty laughs While through the green ways wandering Beside her love, slow gathering White, starry-hearted May-time blooms Above your lowly...