Page:The Soul of a Century.djvu/51



Across the heavens the Stars are spilled Like the heathery flowers of spring, Tenderly led by the breath of time They dance in an exulting, joyous ring. We can barely see them up on high, To number them, you I would defy. Though a master at numbers and answers

The Earth and the Moon glide hand in hand, While the Earth sweeps in a mighty sphere Around the Sun that shines above, With a host of planets, lustrous, clear And even the timeless, burning Sun Madly revolves ‘round another One. And where is this Sun heading? Whither its light is shedding?

Let your thoughts soar as they may; There the stars are as thick as the heathery bloom; And though you were as old as the Sun itself Your thoughts could not fathom eternity’s doom. I kneel and gaze at the heaven’s face, My thoughts fly upward into space, Higher and higher, above the skies A tear over fills the gazing eyes.

Within my heart all seems so dead That words cannot portray, And when I roam about my heart A tombstone bars my way.

All about me so desolate One rose in bloom one bud Yet this one is so beautiful As if grown from human blood.

And while it grows, its petals spread Their stirring blood-red stain, This rose, my love of humankind Demanding blood again.

I often tried to kill this bloom All efforts were in vain, Its roots remained beneath the ground; Through the night it grew again.