Nay, do not hang your head: Though Christs be crucified, And Rachel's babes are dead, One river floweth wide Out of the urge of God; Of that eternal stream-- Its mother-bosom broad With vision and with dream-- Are you, Comrade and I! Yea, all its ancient shores That river runneth by Have we touched. Where it pours Past leagues of desert-sand, Jungles and miry places, Palms of an unknown land, Ferns and their fronded faces; Have we gone forth from God! Where slimy serpents crawl, And crocodiles are torpid in the sun; Where snarling tigers sprawl, And elephants come slowly one by one Down the yellow ridges Of the banyan's broken bridges To the river where the little shells are strawed; Where chattering monkeys leap, And the flamingo struts among the reeds; Where parrots pause and peep, And all day long the greedy ibis feeds: We went flowing, flowing, And eternally out-going From the impulse of the mighty love of God! Lift up your head, O my Brother, my friend! Know that your shame is the shame of the stream-- Memory floods all its banks, but the end-- What is the end? 'Tis a realized dream Dreamt in the depths of an infinite peace Ere the first star of the morning arose Over the earth! Since that river's release From the pure spring, how it flows! How it flows, Bears on its bosom the sorrows of man, Sin and the wreckage of faith and of truth, Lust and hot murder, the primitive ban: "Eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth"! Yet that same bosom babe Moses did bare Safe in his cradle of wattles! Its tide Floated the tree on which Christ, crucified, Bled for His love of the stream and His share Of the Past! Lift up your head and endure! Are we not part of the All, and as pure? THE ONE OBLATION God does not need your virtue Proclaimed in any place, Who knows a better beauty Than such a pious face! The stars keep His commandments, The suns observe His law And all the countless comets Bow down to Him in awe. God does not want your temples, Whose domes are in the sky; With archangelic anthems How dare we mortals vie? One thing alone, my brothers, Rivals that bliss above: Not incense on an altar, But man's oblation--Love! A QUESTION Have you Christ found-- Whose eyes are cold And lips are set? How you forget That day of old, When on the ground He wrote one tender word: "Let him who has not erred Be first of these alone To cast a stone!" COMBATANTS My God and I met at the ford-- Lightning of wrath was on His face, And in His hand He held a sword! He whom of old I had adored Now challenged me! I paused a space-- My God and I met at the ford. Dauntless I stood, and daring poured Hot words of anger--stepped one pace; And in my hand I held a sword.