But Courage, Faith, and Constancy, The cardinal virtues as I deem, May well be worshipped, as indeed The lilies of the soul they seem; Undying in their fragrance rare And glassed upon a sacred stream. VI Know thou, the Ideal Harmony That fills all space, below, above, Is not in Creed, nor Form, nor Rite Nor in those things thou dreamest of; But holds within its breadth and scope The sole and only note of Love. VII Reject all Creeds; and yet in each Seek such material as thou can, With here a tenet, there a thought Whether it sprang from Christ or Pan; And make the key-stone of thy arch The common brotherhood of Man. VIII And striving thus, a happier creed In time to come shall burst its bud, The pure air cleared of battle-smoke And war no more by field and flood; Where men can lift up guiltless hands Uncrimsoned by a brother’s blood. IX When nevermore in calm or storm Shall hawk-like hover on the seas, The canvas of opposing ships Their pennants floating to the breeze; And golden hopes will supersede The apples of Hesperides. X When man-emancipated man Through loftier purpose wins control; With Justice as his only God To reign supreme o’er heart and soul; And Love, sun-like, illuminates The one, the true, the perfect whole. *NOTES TO COSMOS* Notes to Cosmos Certain stanzas once intended for the original are here given. They are set down according to the chapters in which they were to have appeared. Chapter Two Of trees that stirred in early Spring The slow sap moving in their veins; Of flowers that dyed the woodland slopes The primrose pale, and daisy-chains; Sun-kissed betimes, or overmourned By shimmery tears of sobbing rains. Chapter Four And all night long the restless sea Against its barriers rose and fell, Till grey-eyed Dawn, by lonely sands Saw flash and fade the last broad swell, Before her there the ebb-tide’s gleam And at her feet a murmuring shell. And then were heard the Elder Bards In full, Prophetic tone sublime, Their eyes ablaze with ecstacy And on their lips the living rhyme; King-honored in an age of Kings And on their beards the frosts of Time. Chapter Eight And when a-down the bare brown lanes Pattered the swift, white feet of Spring, I saw the velvet-golden flash That marked the yellow-hammer’s wing A-curve on high; and later heard The robin, and the blue-bird sing. Far seaward on unnumbered isles Mid scent of spice and drowsy balm, The lotos-eating Islanders Lay soothed to sleep by utter calm; Low at their feet the pulsing tides And o’er their heads the tufted palm. Chapter Nine