Produced by Al Haines THE PIPER AND THE REED _Know you a garden near the road? Its walls are very high; A gift of dream on me bestowed, And covered with the sky: There one may walk and talk and talk, Forgetful of aught else but friends, When twilight into evening blends._ [Frontispiece: Sincerely yours, Robert Norwood] THE PIPER AND THE REED BY ROBERT NORWOOD AUTHOR OF "THE WITCH OF ENDOR," "HIS LADY OF THE SONNETS," ETC. MCCLELLAND, GOODCHILD & STEWART PUBLISHERS :: :: :: TORONTO COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA TO L. L. H. CONTENTS The Piper and the Reed Aldebaran Comrades After the Order of Melchisedec O Little Pale Pilgrim of Dream A Song of Evolution A Song of the Trinity A Song of the Father A Song of the Mother A Song of the Son Te Deum O Will You Come With Me The King of Glory Matins A Cradle Song of Life A Song of the All The Slow Emerger A Song of the New Gods The Optimist Revelation A Song of Workers A Song of Battles Can You Forget Bartimæus The Cock The Stream The One Oblation A Question Combatants On the Wide, White Road That One Should Love Me Rahab On Guard The Ploughman Dear Little Maid of Dream The Violet to the Aster Magic The King and the Maid A Woman's Prayer Foeman Geraint Grief The Empty Room Love Eternal After the Feast The Lonely Road THE PIPER AND THE REED THE PIPER AND THE REED I am a reed--a little reed Down by the river, A whim of God whose moment's need Was that the Giver Might blow melodious and long One cadence of eternal song. Through me are blown Wild whisperings of wind from hills No sun hath known. The splendour that Orion spills On purple space; The golden loom of Leo's mane; The scintillance of Vega's face; Dim unto dark: And great Arcturus' far refrain Fades to a silence that is pain, When, like a lark, Riseth melodious and strong That cadence of eternal song. God is the Piper--I, the reed Down by the river for His need. One note in those vast melodies Waited on me, Or else the choral companies Went silently Complaining to the muted stars: "What lack we yet that Discord bars That infinite Processional?" Or else the seraphim would call: "Minstrels, your dulcimers let fall And break the silvern psalteries!" A little reed--a little reed! And yet were silence of that song, Failed I the river's pebbled brim, Nor trembled never unto him-- The Piper! passing where we throng Vibrant and ready for His need.