Page:A Treasury of South African Poetry.djvu/231

The Kingdom of What-is is mine,
Though all too narrow seems its bound.
The honest day doth round me shine:
My feet are set on solid ground.

And so, disdainful of regret,
I yield my sword and give parole
Not to o'erpass the limits set
By conquering fate for my control.

My little round erect I tread,
Or bend my back in humble toil,
Striving to win my spirit's bread
From out the stern, unfruitful soil.

Yet gracious hours my Kingdom hath,
When Love's warm sunlight o'er it lies,
And Beauty's blossoms fringe my path,
And Joy sheds music from the skies.

And hush! at moments rare and high
Some opal gleam of morning dew,
The glory of some sunset sky,
With secret gladness thrills me through.

Some cloudland temple up the blue
Lifting its dome of dazzling white,
Some wild bird's call, some wild-flower's hue
Surprises me with strange delight—

With whispers of some hidden bliss
Which Nature's earlier children know,
And to the dwellers in What-is
By hint and symbol darkly show.