POETRY.
IMMORTALITY.
When on the sluggish tide of time The immortal moment comes, Whose bugle-call thrills with a gleaming edge Flesh and all stuff of the material world, The soldier-soul, with that swift discipline Wherewith keen life answers the heart's desire, Leaps on the deed, as tiger leaps on fawn, As powder answers fire.
Soul is the perfect athlete, running free Among the clear winds of reality ; For whom dim speculation and the thought That measured, weighed, and sought In worlds unreal those cloudy paradises And comfortable prizes For loveless rules obeyed, are less than nought.
The eternal moment being his vital air,
Ho cannot ask or care, Whether his burning act shall sow the seeds Of other life and deeds, Or if his being, ardent, pure, intact,
Die on the summit of the immortal act.
lawrne ARMSTRONG.
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