Page:General William Booth enters into Heaven, and other poems.djvu/94

78 Like a diver after pearls I plunged to that stifling floor. It was wide as a giant's wheat-field An icy, wind-washed shore. O laughing, proud, but trembling star! O wind that wounded store!

He Climbs the Hill Where the Tree Grows

On&mdash; Thro' the gleaming gray I ran to the storm and clang&mdash; To the red, red hill where the great tree swayed&mdash; And scattered bells like autumn leaves. How the red bells rang! My breath within my breast Was held like a diver's breath&mdash; The leaves were tangled locks of gray&mdash; The boughs of the tree were white and gray, Shaped like scythes of Death. The boughs of the tree would sweep and sway&mdash; Sway like scythes of Death. But it was beautiful! I knew that all was well.