Page:Poems·from·the·Port·Hills-Blanche·Edith·Baughan-1923.pdf/28

 But, thro’ all differences of race and creed, My spirit with that kinsman spirit, lo, Strongly agreed! Applauded the design, if not the deed; The purpose understood, echo’d the need All lanthorns of the flesh down, out, to turn, If so the Inner Light may brightlier burn. Nay, as I mused, those sixty years and nine, Dark for Light’s sake, began to glitter and sparkle, Into my heart that dismal state to shine! That strong renouncing did my will great good, And lit my mind to such a morning-mood, That now its whole interior landscape glow’d, And, as in Nature’s glory erst I gloried, So could I joy now in that fortitude How dazzlingly that show’d The truth of humanhood!— For if, when soul demands, The body must so utterly obey As to put off, and steadfastly abide, Sixty-nine years denied, till self-denied, Even the light of day — Why, then, how much of man the soul must be, How little, clay!

O Brother in the Dark! ’twas forth, not out, The light of thine intrepid young eyes went! Forth, as a starry ray Upon our darkling way, A shining, burning testimony, still sent Our groping life about,