It seemed I heard a knocking at the door—
I left my chair forgetting what had been;
I thought you spoke again, as oft before
With coaxing voice: 'Daddy, may I come in?'
And when at even-tide I paced the strand,
I felt your fingers warm within my hand.
And where the waves had laid the rough rocks bare
I said aloud: 'Don't stumble, dear; take care!'
THE RUST OF UNUSED POWERS
By R. D. Huger
The rust of unused powers eats its way
Into the inmost recess of the soul,
And there corrupts and atrophies the whole,
And mars the plan of being. Who can say
The pain felt when at last the mind's survey
Sees wreckage of fair promise as the toll
Paid by unthinking folly, with the sole
Hope to escape life's saving word—obey!
Then follows frenzied anguish as we learn
This am I, and the thing I might have been
Gone far beyond me, never to return.
Too late now, though the will to work be keen.
Ah, could we—having youth—have too the wit
To see our life's best end and master it.
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