_Wide as the world their company,_ _Many the paths they tread;_ _Here may a toil-worn peasant be,_ _Yonder a crownèd head._ _Famed or unknown, each one must fare_ _Forth on a bidden way;_ _That which awaits no man may share,_ _Lonely ’mid throngs are they._ _Yet comrades all they come to be:_ _Far-sundered, yet one line,_ _They march in this great company,_ _Deep in their souls its sign._ _How shall ye know them? Some there be_ _So wasted and worn and weak,_ _So anguished in body, ye all may see_ _They bear the sign ye seek._ _But some in this brotherhood there be_ _Who in such secret wise_ _Meet suffering, no man may see_ _Wherein their sorrow lies._ _Their laughter rings out true and free,_ _Ye look for the sign in vain,_ _Nor guess they are of this company,_ _Marked with the mark of pain._ _Thus shall ye know them: On their eyes_ _Falls the light of things unseen;_ _Their pain-cleared vision sweeps the skies_ _And the hearts of men, I ween;_ _The things that pass, and the things that remain,_ _Lie open to their sight,_ _And that which they learn as they dwell with pain_ _Gives strength to the world, and light._ _Patient, and wise, and glad they be,_ _Rich with love’s own increase—_ _They of this world-wide company_ _Who suffer, and find peace._ _Freed as by fire? Yet the fire shall pass,_ _And the freedom shall stand for aye;_ _And what would be the hope for the mass_ _If these should shrink in dismay?_ _So may I cast aside all fear;_ _So may my soul aspire;_ _So may I climb pain’s pathway drear_ _To heights of my soul’s desire._ _And there, with heart grown wise to see,_ _Counting nor loss nor gain._ _May I serve with this brave company_ _Who bear the mark of pain!_ VII SPRING MAGIC _April 2nd._ The Peon came home ten days ago, and David a day later. They looked as solemn as owls, and developed a tendency to neglect their business and sit in my room which was fast getting on my nerves. So I rose up and put a stop to it. You simply can’t lie still in peace when your eyes won’t stay open, if you have any consciousness that somebody is watching you while he’s pretending to read a book. And I don’t need a doctor. I’ve been like this, and worse, a thousand times, and the Head said when I came home I was bound to get well crab-fashion—going backward lots of the time. So I laid down the law that if my eyes were shut and I didn’t speak when they opened the door, my family was to be sensible and go away.