He comes in a twinkling, With never an inkling That law is not one with his word; But gives me good wages, The penny of ages— Love wild as the heart of a bird. He laughs down my quiet, This lord of the riot, This Prince of the Kingdom of Whim; The world is his castle, And I am his vassal To trumpet the triumphs of him! The Plowman His furrows are darkening into the hollow, Lightly behind him the blackbirds follow— By quick little journeys they follow and whistle. Now a gossamer ship breaks away to the blue (Who stands by the railing and waves adieu?) All night it was moored to a thistle. Who knows the glad business afoot on the by-way? Who know the bold hopes sent adrift on the skyway? Song’s Eternity Into the song of the Poet are builded the things that endure: The Pillars of Karnak will crumble but the song of Shelley is sure. It will hold through the ages of ages, like the heavens steadied in air: The hoofs that trample the kingdoms down that miracle must spare. The God of Song and Mirth ‘Twas the God of Song and Mirth Who descended to the Earth. It was He who veiled His face In the sorrow of the race; He who toiled at Nazareth, Going with us down to death; He who bowed the heavens for men, And arose to light again. ‘Twas the First-born Son of Light Shone upon the human night, Bringing down the Final Truth In His deep, eternal youth. God was reconciled to man When the ages first began; But that man be reconciled God became a little child. So appeared the God of Song In the planet going wrong; So appeared the God of Light, God of Passion still and white; Came to help us lift the weight Of the planetary fate; Came and taught the one relief For the gray primeval grief— Taught that Love, though deified, Could not set the Law aside. St. Elizabeth of Hungary