Page:The roamer and other poems (1920).djvu/139

Rh "Love drew my youth from the sweet soil of France,"

Sorrows of exile toned the mellow voice

That first had spoken; "tender yet my age,

Called by strange gospels of the silent heart

That beats in all men—so the Master said—

And ever hears a spiritual voice

Amid the worldly strife; that voice I heard,

Brooding above the Master's sacred charge,

Who, laying his thin hands upon my youth,

Thus vowed my life to lowliest ministries:

'To have no name; to touch no gold; to own

City nor country where to lay thy head;

To wander through the world, the friend of him

Who has no friend, easing the daily weight

Of this so bitter life; to brother all,

But bind no dear companion to thy side

Save to divide his burden; not to think

Of earthly recompense nor heaven's reward;

To hope no gain; to fear no loss; but live,

Free from the mortal tangle of the self,

For others only, humbly so to serve

Among the humble; nor make state nor race

A barrier to the soul; but give thy love

No bound, no limit; so the mighty heart

Of the whole world shall beat against thy side,