Surrounded by unnumbered foes, Against my soul the battle goes! Yet, though I weary, sore distrest, I know that I shall reach my rest. I lift my tearful eyes above; His banner over me is love. Its sword my spirit will not yield, Though flesh may faint upon the field; He waves before my fading sight The branch of palm--the crown of light; I lift my brightening eyes above, His banner over me is love. My cloud of battle-dust may dim, His veil of splendor curtain him, And in the midnight of my fear I may not feel him standing near; But, as I lift mine eyes above, His banner over me is love. --Gerald Massey. THE SPILT PEARLS His courtiers of the caliph crave: "O say how this may be, That of thy slaves this Ethiop slave Is best beloved by thee? "For he is hideous as the night: Yet when has ever chose A nightingale for its delight A hueless, scentless rose?" The caliph then: "No features fair, No comely mien are his; Love is the beauty he doth wear; And love his glory is. "Once when a camel of my train There fell, in narrow street, From broken casket rolled amain Rich pearls before my feet. "I nodding to my slaves that I Would freely give them these, At once upon the spoil they fly The costly boon to seize. "One only at my side remained-- Beside this Ethiop none; He, moveless as the steed he reined, Behind me sat alone. "'What will thy gain, good fellow, be, Thus lingering at my side?' 'My king, that I shall faithfully Have guarded thee,' he cried. "True servant's title he may wear, He only, who has not, For his lord's gifts, how rich soe'er, His lord himself forgot!" So thou alone dost walk before Thy God with perfect aim, From him desiring nothing more Beside himself to claim. For if thou not to him aspire, But to his gifts alone, Not love, but covetous desire, Has brought thee to his throne. While such thy prayer; it climbs above In vain--the golden key Of God's rich treasure-house of love Thine own will never be. --Saadi, tr. by Richard Chenevix Trench. THE HIGHER PRIVILEGE For some the narrow lane of "must," Be mine the big, broad "may"; Better to love--be happy--trust, Than simply to obey. O troubled over many things, Choose thou the better part; Service unconscious of itself, And childlikeness of heart. Why cast your burden on the Lord And strive to drag it, too? Call work an opportunity Till it grows joy to you. "Ought" is a servant's work, not mine; I sign no grudging pledge; I am a child and son; my toil Is only privilege.