It was the Warrior within Who called "Awake! prepare for fight, "Yet lose not memory in the din; "Make of thy gentleness thy might. "Make of thy silence words to shake "The long-enthroned kings of earth; "Make of thy will the force to break "Their towers of wantonness and mirth." It was the wise all-seeing soul Who counseled neither war nor peace "Only be thou thyself that goal "In which the wars of time shall cease." --April 15, 1893 Dusk Dusk wraps the village in its dim caress; Each chimney's vapour, like a thin grey rod, Mounting aloft through miles of quietness, Pillars the skies of God. Far up they break or seem to break their line, Mingling their nebulous crests that bow and nod Under the light of those fierce stars that shine Out of the house of God. Only in clouds and dreams I felt those souls In the abyss, each fire hid in its clod, From which in clouds and dreams the spirit rolls Into the vast of God. --May 15, 1893 Dawn Still as the holy of holies breathes the vast, Within its crystal depths the stars grow dim, Fire on the altar of the hills at last Burns on the shadowy rim. Moment that holds all moments, white upon The verge it trembles; then like mists of flowers Break from the fairy fountain of the dawn The hues of many hours. Thrown downward from that high companionship Of dreaming inmost heart with inmost heart, Into the common daily ways I slip My fire from theirs apart. --June 15, 1893 Desire With Thee a moment! then what dreams have play! Traditions of eternal toil arise, Search for the high, austere and lonely way, Where Brahma treads through the eternities. Ah, in the soul what memories arise! And with what yearning inexpressible, Rising from long forgetfulness I turn To Thee, invisible, unrumoured, still: White for Thy whiteness all desires burn! Ah, with what longing once again I turn! --August 15, 1893 Deep Sleep Heart-hidden from the outer things I rose, The spirit woke anew in nightly birth Into the vastness where forever glows The star-soul of the earth. There all alone in primal ecstasy, Within her depths where revels never tire, The olden Beauty shines; each thought of me Is veined through with its fire. And all my thoughts are throngs of living souls; They breath in me, heart unto heart allied With joy undimmed, though when the morning tolls The planets may divide. --September 15, 1893 Day In day from some titanic past it seems As if a thread divine of memory runs; Born ere the Mighty One began his dreams, Or yet were stars and suns. But here an iron will has fixed the bars; Forgetfulness falls on earth's myriad races, No image of the proud and morning stars Looks at us from their faces.