Page:The Pathfinder, Swiggett, June 1911.djvu/20

16 The messenger of sure and swift relief,

Welcomed with wailings and reproachful grief,

The friend of those that have no friend but me,

I break all chains and set all captives free.

I am the cloud that, when Earth's day is done,

Am instant veils an unextinguished sun;

I am the brooding hush that follows strife,

The waking from a dream that Man calls—Life!

THROUGH THE RUSHES10

Through the rushes by the river

Runs a drowsy tremor sweet,

And the waters stir and shiver

In the darkness at their feet;

From the sombre east up-stealing,

Gradual, with slow revealing,

Comes the dawn, and with a sigh

Night goes by.

Here and there, to mildest wooing,

Folded buds are open-blown;

And the drops their leaves bedewing,

Like to seed-pearls thickly sown,

Sinking, with the blessing olden,

Deep into each calyx golden,

A supreme behest obey,

Then melt away.

And while robes of splendor trailing,

Fitly deck the glowing morn,

And the fragrance, fresh exhaling,

Greets her loveliness new-born,