IN THE DARK.
257
No hurt! It is the things that are unseen,
Invisible, not things of violence,
For which the mightiest are without defence.
On kine most fair to see one may grow lean
With hunger. Many a snowy bread is doled
Which is far harder than the hardest stones.
'Tis but a narrow line divides the zones
Where suns are warm from those where suns are cold.
'Twixt harmonies divine as chords can hold
And torturing discords, lie but semitones!
Invisible, not things of violence,
For which the mightiest are without defence.
On kine most fair to see one may grow lean
With hunger. Many a snowy bread is doled
Which is far harder than the hardest stones.
'Tis but a narrow line divides the zones
Where suns are warm from those where suns are cold.
'Twixt harmonies divine as chords can hold
And torturing discords, lie but semitones!
IN THE DARK.
S one who journeys on a stormy nightThrough mountain passes which he does not know
Shields like his life from savage gusts that blow
The swaying flame of his frail torch's light,
So each of us through life's long groping fight
Clings fast to one dear faith, one love, whose glow
Makes darkness noonday to our trusting sight,
And joys of perils into which we go.
God help us, when this precious shining mark
The raging storms of deep distrust assail
With icy, poisoned breath and deadly aim,
Till we, with hearts that shrink and cower and quail
In terror which no measure has nor name,
Stand trembling, helpless, palsied, in the dark.
