18
THE BROTHERS.
That thrills earth's slumbering heart so, where its warm rays fall
That it laughs out in beauty, turned he as from tempters all.
That it laughs out in beauty, turned he as from tempters all.
From bird-song running morn's sweet-scented chalice o'er with cheer,
The child's light laughter, lifting lowliest souls heaven near,
From tears and glad smiles, linked light and gloom of the golden day,
He counting these temptations all, austerely turned away.
The child's light laughter, lifting lowliest souls heaven near,
From tears and glad smiles, linked light and gloom of the golden day,
He counting these temptations all, austerely turned away.
And thus he lived alone, unblest, and died unblest, alone,
Save for a brother monk, who held the carvéd cross of stone
In his cold, rigid clasp, the while his dying eyes did wear
A look of mortal striving, mortal agony, and prayer.
Save for a brother monk, who held the carvéd cross of stone
In his cold, rigid clasp, the while his dying eyes did wear
A look of mortal striving, mortal agony, and prayer.
Though at the very last, as his stiff fingers dropped the cross,
A gleam as from some distant city swept his face across,
The clay lips settled into calm—thus did the monk attest,
A look of one who through much peril enters into rest.
A gleam as from some distant city swept his face across,
The clay lips settled into calm—thus did the monk attest,
A look of one who through much peril enters into rest.
Not thus did he, the younger brother, seek the Master's face;
But in earth's lowly places did he strive his steps to trace,
Wherever want and grief besought with clamorous complaint,
There he beheld his Lord—naked, athirst, and faint.
But in earth's lowly places did he strive his steps to trace,
Wherever want and grief besought with clamorous complaint,
There he beheld his Lord—naked, athirst, and faint.
