Nay though the rasp of the flesh was so sore,
Faith, that had yearnings far keener than these,
Saw the soft sheen of the Thitherward Shore,
Under the shade of the trees;
Caught the high psalms of ecstatic delight,
Heard the harps harping, like soundings of seas,
Watched earth s assorted ones walking in white
Under the shade of the trees.
O, was it strange he should pine for release,
Touched to the soul with such transports as these,
He who so needed the balsam of peace,
Under the shade of the trees?
Yea, it was noblest for him it was best,
(Questioning naught of our Father s decrees),
There to pass over the river and rest
Under the shade of the trees!
ANONYMOUS
THE SOLDIER BOY
I give my soldier boy a blade, In fair Damascus fashioned well; Who first the glittering falchion swayed, Who first beneath its fury fell, I know not: but I hope to know That for no mean or hireling trade, To guard no feeling, base or low, I give my soldier boy a blade.
