Page:A Treasury of South African Poetry.djvu/231

 The Kingdom of What-is is mine,
 * Though all too narrow seems its bound.

The honest day doth round me shine:
 * My feet are set on solid ground.

And so, disdainful of regret,
 * I yield my sword and give parole

Not to o'erpass the limits set
 * By conquering fate for my control.

My little round erect I tread,
 * Or bend my back in humble toil,

Striving to win my spirit's bread
 * From out the stern, unfruitful soil.

Yet gracious hours my Kingdom hath,
 * When Love's warm sunlight o'er it lies,

And Beauty's blossoms fringe my path,
 * And Joy sheds music from the skies.

And hush! at moments rare and high
 * Some opal gleam of morning dew,

The glory of some sunset sky,
 * With secret gladness thrills me through.

Some cloudland temple up the blue
 * Lifting its dome of dazzling white,

Some wild bird's call, some wild-flower's hue
 * Surprises me with strange delight—

With whispers of some hidden bliss
 * Which Nature's earlier children know,

And to the dwellers in What-is
 * By hint and symbol darkly show.