In the shadow of the rood
Love and Shame together stood;
Love, that bade Him bear the blame
Of her fallen sister Shame;
Shame, that by the pangs thereof
Bade Him break His heart for Love.

Jesus, Lord God from all eternity,
Whom love of us brought down to shame,
I plead Thy Life with Thee,
I plead Thy Death, I plead Thy Name.

Jesus, Lord God of every living soul,
Thy Love exceeds its uttered fame,
Thy Will can make us whole,
I plead Thyself, I plead Thy Name.

O LOVE is like that glow
From lonely lighthouse poured—
That gleam it doth bestow
On sail and mast and cord,
When shore and ocean are
Unkissed by moon or star,
And Dawn in gloom afar
Still sheathes her golden sword.

My soul, a vessel frail,
Is launched on waters wide,
And in the swooping gale
Must through the surges ride.
But while yon lighthouse there
Makes night and tempest fair,
If Fate my barque upbear,
Let Love be lamp and guide.

The martyred Christ of the working class, the inspired evangel of the downtrodden masses, the world's supreme revolutionary leader,
Whose love for the poor and the children of the poor hallowed all the days of His consecrated life, lighted up and made forever holy the dark tragedy of His death, and gave to the ages His divine inspiration and His deathless name.

Walls for the weary summon him to rest.
But he outside the walls has flung his form
Ravaged by wars. The memory-legions swarm
To lull him. Gentle winds above him weep
For Troy. Power comes to him at last, and yet
Aeneas may not sleep.

For a great love, an unforgotten love,
Beats in his arteries and shakes his soul
With sorrow, till, as silent clouds unroll,
Ethereal, and from a balmy height
Sidonian Dido reaches down to him,
And seals his eyes with night.

Gone—and forever! the grace and glory,
The passionate earth-life sweet and strong—
Good and glee are an old-time story,
Hope and loving have left for long.

How has it failed, the heart's free fountain!
Hand and foot?—alas, was't these
Leaped the chasm, and climbed the mountain,
And held the tiller through stormy seas?

How has it dwarfed, the soul's high stature!
That clasped its darlings of earth and blue—
Knew the divine, or in art or nature,
Loved the lovely, and owned the true.

Spirit fordone! to thy darkening chamber

We have seen thee, O Love, thou art fair; thou art goodly, O Love;
Thy wings make light in the air as the wings of a dove.
Thy feet are as winds that divide the stream of the sea;
Earth is thy covering to hide thee, the garment of thee.
Thou art swift and subtle and blind as a flame of fire;
Before thee the laughter, behind thee the tears of desire;
And twain go forth beside thee, a man with a maid;
Her eyes are the eye of a bride whom delight makes afraid;
As the breath in the buds that stir is her bridal breath:

The hart he loves the high wood,
The hare she loves the hill;
The knight he loves his bright sword,
The lady loves her will.

Thee have I sought, divine Humility,
—Within, without!
And Science did I take as guide to thee;
—She showed me Doubt.

Then did I turn to Art: “Be thou my friend,
—My pride destroy.”
She sang of Glory that should never end
—And taught me Joy.

“Nature, be thou my monitress!” I cried
—In accents clear.
She shook the very base of human pride,
—And whispered, “Fear.”

Lastly of Love did I beseech this grace,
—To come to thee;
Love turned on me a dark and dreadful face,
—'Twas Jealousy.

My faith had gone, my hope was well-nigh dead,

Not mine from thee, loved heart, to feel such tide
As this mine own doth pour thee;
Still shall I not go all unsatisfied:
Enough that I adore thee.

And if thou never wakest to my song,
Not weakly shall it falter;
Proudly I pace Love's lonely courts along
Unto their inmost altar.

Ah, some day, if, within thy pleasant sleep,
Faint echoes of me find thee,
White heart, may dreams be not too fair or deep
Or soothing to unbind thee!

Perchance even then, responding to that sound,
Thou 'lt hail and overtake me,