Not for Prophecies or Powers, Visions, Gifts, or Graces, But the unregardful hours that grind us in our places With the burden on our backs, the weather in our faces. _Toils._ Not for any Miracle of easy Loaves and Fishes, But for doing, ’gainst our will, work against our wishes-- Such as finding food to fill daily-emptied dishes. _Glories._ Not for Voices, Harps or Wings or rapt illumination, But the grosser Self that springs of use and occupation, Unto which the Spirit clings as her last salvation. _Powers, Glories, Toils, and Gifts._ _(He Who launched our Ship of Fools many anchors gave us, Lest one gale should start them all--one collision stave us. Praise Him for the petty creeds That prescribe in paltry needs, Solemn rites to trivial deeds and, by small things, save us!)_ _Services and Loves._ Heart may fail, and Strength outwear, and Purpose turn to Loathing, But the everyday affair of business, meals, and clothing, Builds a bulkhead ’twixt Despair and the Edge of Nothing. _Patiences._ _(Praise Him, then, Who orders it that, though Earth be flaring And the crazy skies are lit By the searchlights of the Pit, Man should not depart a whit from his wonted bearing.)_ _Hopes._ He Who bids the wild-swans’ host still maintain their flight on Air-roads over islands lost-- Ages since ’neath Ocean lost-- Beaches of some sunken coast their fathers would alight on-- _Faiths._ _He shall guide us through this dark, not by new-blown glories, But by every ancient mark our fathers used before us, Till our children ground their ark where the proper shore is._ _Services, Patiences, Faiths, Hopes, and Loves._ He Who used the clay that clings on our boots to make us, Shall not suffer earthly things to remove or shake us: But, when Man denies His Lord, Habit without Fleet or Sword (Custom without threat or word) Sees the ancient fanes restored--the timeless rites o’ertake us. _Full Chorus._ _For He Who makes the Mountains smoke and rives the Hills asunder, And, to-morrow, leads the grass-- Mere unconquerable grass-- Where the fuming crater was, to heal and hide it under, He shall not--He shall not-- Shall not lay on us the yoke of too long Fear and Wonder!_ THE EYE OF ALLAH UNTIMELY Nothing in life has been made by man for man’s using But it was shown long since to man in ages Lost as the name of the maker of it, Who received oppression and scorn for his wages-- Hate, avoidance, and scorn in his daily dealings-- Until he perished, wholly confounded.