4648349Poems — Cui Bono!Frances M. Sharpless

CUI BONO!
Riches are mine, beauty and youth and all
The graces of a cultivated mind.
The fairest blessings that on mortals fall
Were poured on me and left no sting behind;
Yet, 'mid my glory and amid my pride,
A demon, querulous and sombre-browed,
Stalked like a blighting mildew at my side,
And cried, "What good—what good!"

Oh! I had crowds of friends, and they were true;
Lovers were mine, none could be better loved,
Yet, like chaste Diane, in the ether blue,
I walked amid their incense all unmoved.
Cold I was not, for, forth from all the crowd,
Some few in my affections foremost stood,
And with an open hand my gift I poured;
But still the demon cried, "What good!"

In youthful eagerness to soothe distress
My hand was ever open for relief,
And if true prayers had Heaven's power to bless,
My loves and sorrows had been very brief.
But as a man walks in the sun, yet feels
A damp cold breath as from a murky wood,
So 'mid prosperity, still at my heels,
Came the dull cry—"What good!"

Hoarser and more impatient grew the cry,
As up life's hill ascended my strong feet,
Until it seemed as if the earth and sky
In fearful echoes did the words repeat.
Embittered all the sources of my peace,
Hopeless, defiant with blind wrath, I stood,
And bade the fearful thing its horror cease.
But still it cried the more—"What good!"

My friends forsook me as my furrowed brow
Betokened thoughts beyond their sympathy;
My lovers left me, for they knew that now
I was no subject for a passion's sigh.
My heart grew hardened to the woes around,
Before my misery my firm soul was cowed,
And shuddered like at death before the sound
Of that forlorn "What good!"

Then met me one within whose sad, sweet eyes
A thousand thoughts looked forth, of pity born.
His whispers thrilled me: "Why these heavy sighs?
Tell me, oh daughter, wherefore dost thou mourn?"
I could not tell, for words came none, but, falling
Before His feet, my angry soul was bowed;
No more I dreaded that eternal calling.
Here was the perfect good.

For what had been the end of life seemed only
The proving means to fairer life to win;
And gazing on Him, standing sad and lonely,
Burdened, alone, with all our grief and sin,
My whole heart melted to His sweet control,
And to abide by Him, my faith I vowed;
And when He left, the demon of my soul
Shrank at my cry: "This is the perfect good!"