Page:The Poems of Henry Kendall (1920).djvu/118

 He knew he was one of the few He could take

For His mission supernal,

Whose feet would not falter, whose limbs would not ache,

Through the waterless lands of the thorn and the snake,

And the ways of the wild—bearing up for the sake

Of a Beauty eternal.

And therefore the road to Damascus was burned

With a swift, sudden brightness;

While Saul, with his face in the bitter dust, learned

Of the sin which he did ere he tumbled, and turned

Aghast at God's whiteness!

Of the sin which he did ere he covered his head

From the strange revelation.

But, thereafter, you know of the life that he led—

How he preached to the peoples, and suffered, and sped

With the wonderful words which his Master had said,

From nation to nation.

Now would we be like him, who suffer and see,

If the Chooser should choose us!

For I tell you, brave brothers, whoever you be,

It is right, till all learn to look further, and see,

That our Master should use us!

It is right, till all learn to discover and class,

That our Master should task us:

For now we may judge of the Truth through a glass;

And the road over which they must evermore pass,

Who would think for the many, and fight for the mass,

Is the road to Damascus.

channels of coolness the echoes are calling,

And down the dim gorges I hear the creek falling;

It lives in the mountain, where moss and the sedges

Touch with their beauty the banks and the ledges;

Through brakes of the cedar and sycamore bowers

Struggles the light that is love to the flowers.