DAWN
DAWN—and a whole long day before,
With Good or Ill to write the score
For all the flying years—
A day in which our hopes are cast,
A day to live as 'twere our last
Ere comes life's evensong.
With Good or Ill to write the score
For all the flying years—
A day in which our hopes are cast,
A day to live as 'twere our last
Ere comes life's evensong.
Dawn—and the threads of love to spin,
And the tender tasks by which we win
The goal of all our dreams.
We must lift the rose or bear the hod,
For every day is a tryst with God
To keep the faith.
And the tender tasks by which we win
The goal of all our dreams.
We must lift the rose or bear the hod,
For every day is a tryst with God
To keep the faith.
CHARITY
IS it to drop full carelessly
A penny in the beggar's hand
And salve the conscience with the thanks
The whining crone has planned?
A penny in the beggar's hand
And salve the conscience with the thanks
The whining crone has planned?
Is it to feed a hungry mouth
With leavings from a board well spread,
The bits of meat we cast away,
The hardest crusts of broken bread?
With leavings from a board well spread,
The bits of meat we cast away,
The hardest crusts of broken bread?
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