Unnamed be HE from whom creation came; There is no word whereby to speak His name But petty men have mouthed it into shame. I lift mine eyes, and with a river’s force My love’s full tide goes sweeping on its course To that supreme and all embracing Source. Then back through all those thirsting channels roll The mighty billows of the Over Soul. And I am He, the portion and the Whole. As little streams before the flood tide flee, As rivers vanish to become the sea, The I exists no more, for I AM HE. The Word. OH, a word is a gem, or a stone, or a song, Or a flame, or a two-edged sword; Or a rose in bloom, or a sweet perfume, Or a drop of gall, is a word. You may choose your word like a connoisseur, And polish it up with art, But the word that sways, and stirs, and stays, Is the word that comes from the heart. You may work on your word a thousand weeks, But it will not glow like one That all unsought, leaps forth white hot, When the fountains of feeling run. You may hammer away on the anvil of thought, And fashion your word with care, But unless you are stirred to the depths, that word Shall die on the empty air. For the word that comes from the brain alone, Alone to the brain will speed; But the word that sways, and stirs, and stays, Oh! that is the word men heed. Assistance. LEAN on no mortal, Love, and serve; (For service is love’s complement), But it was never God’s intent, Your spirit from its path should swerve, To gain another’s point of view. As well might Jupiter, or Mars Go seeking help from other stars, Instead of sweeping ON, as you. Look to the Great Eternal Cause And not to any man, for light. Look in; and learn the wrong, and right, From your own soul’s unwritten laws. And when you question, or demur, Let Love be your Interpreter. “Credulity.” IF fallacies, come knocking at my door, I’d rather feed, and shelter full a score, Than hide behind the black portcullis, doubt, And run the risk of barring one Truth out. And if pretention for a time deceive, And prove me one too ready to believe, Far less my shame, than if by stubborn act, I brand as lie, some great colossal Fact. On my soul’s door, the latch-string hangs outside; Within, the lighted candle. Let me guide Some errant follies, on their wandering way, Rather, than Wisdom give no welcoming ray. Consciousness. GOD, what a glory, is this consciousness, Of life on life, that comes to those who seek! Nor would I, if I might, to others speak, The fullness of that knowledge. It can bless, Only the eager souls, that willing, press Along the mountain passes, to the peak. Not to the dull, the doubting, or the weak, Will Truth explain, or Mystery confess.