Jesse Edgar Middleton
The evening firelight glanced upon their eyes.
They sat, divining, by the yellow flame, Seeing long years of joy; a richer prize,
Fair children to perpetuate a name To the far limits of Eternity.
One sudden blaze of Hell, one roaring blast!
The devil laughter of a coward foe ! Then dreams and love and life itself are past.
What fool can say that God would have it so, Our God, who made the flowers and the sea?
��T
��THE THREE MORE WISE MEN
HREE Sages came from the land of Ur
With a tinkling, sleepy caravan, Bringing jars of frankincense, nard and myrrh
To honour the infant Son of Man, For the Star hung low like a heavenly gem O er the drowsy stable of Bethlehem.
And the blundering years are fled away, A score of centuries, dark and grim.
But three more Sages marched in today
With their saddles worn, but their horses trim.
The dew of a world in grief distils
On the sentries pacing the sacred hills.
And one of the Three is good St. George,
A cavalryman of ancient time, Still hunting dragons through vale and gorge,
In the memory of the Bow Bells chime. And though he march with a mountain-gun He wears the Cross of the Virgin s Son.
And here St. Andrew, a sailorman, Beholds the village he used to know
Before he came to his Highland clan And saw the heather s unending glow.
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