Poems (Nora May French)/Rebuke
REBUKE
THE tortured river-banks, the toiling piers— I walked thereby as older grew the day, And sick with sorry clamor in mine ears, Heart-weary turned my steps and went my way.
"O place full-voiced of wretchedness!" I cried. (The sun had set, the dusk was closing in) "O place where laboring Life goes heavy-eyed, Compound of grime and discord, strife and sin!"
I turned me back, and lo, a miracle! For misty violet lay along the land. The shining river in mysterious spell (Divinely touched by some transmuting hand)
A path of wonder was, and on it stirred, (Black-shaped, and jeweled with a crimson spark) A ship that slowly moved; and, faintly heard, A cheery song rose blithely to the dark.