POETRY.
ADORATION.
LET us not pray as to some distant God ;
Always imploring palms we stretch toward heaven, As though we drew the consecration down, And miss the sacred wells that gush hard by ; So men mistakenly look up for dew, The while its blessed mist imbathes their feet.
Therefore, if any radiant message come To make existence gentle and sublime ; If Spring airs glad thee, if the sunset bring Into thine eyes the tears of solemn joy ; If the fine wandering odour of a flower, The lamentation of the twilight waves, Full-breasted warble of the birds of dawn,
The liquid chant of cuckoo floating smooth
Through the bright solitudes of leafy May, The first sight of the wonder of the peaks That on the wide, far-off horizon lift Their pallid ridges of unearthly snow ; If the caressing clasp of tender hands, The undying charm of a pure woman's love, The smile of comfort in inspiring eyes ; If infinite chords from the deep world of sound, Exhilaration bloom and fire of song, An angel from the pity of a tale, • The lofty sadness of evanish'd hope, The lingering pathos of an early dream, Regrets and doubt, the hunger of desire, Impassion'd abnegations vex'd and vain,
The anguish of life's evermore Too Late ;— If these things move thee, know that thou hast touch'd
The hem of the holy garment of the Lord, And art not from the heavenly kingdom far.
JOSEPH TRUMAN
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