And in recovered might
Pulled the tall pillars down,
Died _with_ his foes--_that was his right_--
And built his great renown.
* * * * *
For His Foes
Devotion all supreme
Throbs in the mighty psalm
Of One who filled our highest dream
And poured His healing balm;
Who worlds inherited
And yet renounced them all;
Who had not where to lay His head
And drank the cup of gall;
Who emptied of His power
Became the foremost man--
Calm at the great prophetic hour
Through which God's purpose ran;
Who in the darkest fight
Imagination knows,
Saluted Thee, Eternal Light,
And died as _for_ His foes.
* * * * *
The Master
The Master many a day
In pain and darkness wrought:
Through death to life He held His way,
All lands the glory caught.
And He unlocked the gain
Shut up in grievous loss,
And made the stairs to heaven as plain
As His uplifted cross--
The stairs of pain and woe
In all the work on earth,
Up which the patient toilers go
To their eternal birth.
O Master, Master mine,
I read the legend now,
_To work and suffer is divine_,
All radiant on Thy brow.
* * * * *
Life in Death
Strong children of decay,
Ye live by perishing:
To-morrow thrives on dead to-day,
And joy on suffering.
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