The agonies old of the earth, Its plenitude and its dearth, The torrents of flame and of tears, All these in our souls were inborn. And we must endure through the years The glory and burden of birth That filled us with fire of the morn. Let the diamond lie in its mine; Let ruby and topaz shine; The beryl sleep, and the emerald keep Its sunned-leaf green! We know The joy of sufferings deep That blend with a love divine, And the hidden warmth of the snow! TENTH OPAL Colors that tremble and perish, Atoms that follow the law, You mirror the truth which we cherish, You mirror the spirit we saw. Glow of the daybreak tender, Flushed with an opaline gleam, And passionate sunset-splendor-- Ye both but embody a dream. Visions of cloud-hidden glory Breaking from sources of light Mimic the mist of life's story. Mingled of scarlet and white. Sunset-clouds iridescent, Opals, and mists of the day, Are thrilled alike with the crescent Delight of a deathless ray Shot through the hesitant trouble Of particles floating in space, And touching each wandering bubble With tints of a rainbowed grace. So through the veil of emotion Trembles the light of the truth; And so may the light of devotion Glorify life--age and youth. Sufferings,--pangs that seem cruel,-- These are but atoms adrift: The light streams through, and a jewel Is formed for us, Heaven's own gift! LOVE THAT LIVES Dear face--bright, glinting hair; Dear life, whose heart is mine-- The thought of you is prayer, The love of you divine. In starlight, or in rain; In the sunset's shrouded glow; Ever, with joy or pain, To you my quick thoughts go Like winds or clouds, that fleet Across the hungry space Between, and find you, sweet, Where life again wins grace. Now, as in that once young Year that so softly drew My heart to where it clung, I long for, gladden in you. And when in the silent hours I whisper your sacred name, Like an altar-fire it showers My blood with fragrant flame! Perished is all that grieves; And lo, our old-new joys Are gathered as in sheaves, Held in love's equipoise. Ours is the love that lives; Its springtime blossoms blow 'Mid the fruit that autumn gives, And its life outlasts the snow. IV BLUEBIRD'S GREETING Over the mossy walls, Above the slumbering fields Where yet the ground no fruitage yields, Save as the sunlight falls In dreams of harvest-yellow, What voice remembered calls,-- So bubbling fresh, so soft and mellow? A darting, azure-feathered arrow From some lithe sapling's bow-curve, fleet The bluebird, springing light and narrow, Sings in flight, with gurglings sweet: