TO YOU WHO HAVE LOST

I know! I know!-- The ceaseless ache, the emptiness, the woe,-- The pang of loss,-- The strength that sinks beneath so sore a cross.

"_--Heedless and careless, still the world wags on, And leaves me broken ... Oh, my son! my son!_"

Yet--think of this!-- Yea, rather think on this!-- He died as few men get the chance to die,-- Fighting to save a world's morality.

He died the n.o.blest death a man may die, Fighting for G.o.d, and Right, and Liberty;-- And such a death is Immortality.

"_He died unnoticed in the muddy trench._"

Nay,--G.o.d was with him, and he did not blench; Filled him with holy fires that nought could quench, And when He saw his work below was done, He gently called to him,--"_My son! My son!

I need thee for a greater work than this.

Thy faith, thy zeal, thy fine activities Are worthy of My larger liberties;_"-- --Then drew him with the hand of welcoming grace, And, side by side, they climbed the heavenly ways.

LORD, SAVE THEIR SOULS ALIVE!

Lord, save their souls alive!

And--for the rest,-- We leave it all to Thee; Thou knowest best.

Whether they live or die, Safely they'll rest, Every true soul of them, Thy Chosen Guest.

Whether they live or die, They chose the best, They sprang to Duty's call, They stood the test.

If they come back to us-- How grateful we!

If not,--we may not grieve; They are with Thee.

No soul of them shall fail, Whate'er the past.

Who dies for Thee and Thine Wins Thee at last.

Who, through the fiery gates, Enter Thy rest, Greet them as conquerors,-- Bravest and best!

Every white soul of them, Ransomed and blest,-- Wear them as living gems, Bear them as living flames, High on Thy breast!

THE ALABASTER BOX

The spikenard was not wasted;-- All down the tale of years, The fragrance of that broken alabaster Still clings to Mary's memory, As clung its perfume sweet unto her Master.

Not less than Martha, Mary served her Lord, Although she but sat worshipping, While Martha spread the board.

They also minister to Christ, And render n.o.blest duty, Whose sweet hands touch life's common rounds To Fragrance and to Beauty.

WHITE BROTHER

Midway between the flaming lines he lay, A tumbled heap of blood, and sweat, and clay; --G.o.d's son!

And none could succour him. First this one tried, Then that ... and then another ... and they died; --G.o.d's sons!

Those others saw his plight, and laughed and jeered, And, at each helper's fall, laughed more, and cheered; --G.o.d's sons?

So, through the torture of an endless day, In agonies that none could ease, he lay; --G.o.d's son!

Then, as he wrestled for each hard-won breath, Bleeding his life out, craving only death;-- --G.o.d's son!

--Came One in white, athwart the fiery hail, And in His hand, a shining cup--The Grail; --G.o.d's Son!

He knelt beside him on the reeking ground, And with a touch soothed each hot-throbbing wound; --G.o.d's Son!

Gave him to drink, and in his failing ear Whispered sweet words of comfort and good cheer; --G.o.d's Son!

The suffering one looked up into the face Of Him whose death to sinners brought G.o.d's grace; --G.o.d's Son!

The tender brow with unhealed wounds was scarred, The hand that held The Cup, the nails had marred; --G.o.d's Son!

"Brother, for thee I suffered greater woes; As I forgave,--do thou forgive thy foes, --G.o.d's son!"

"Yea, Lord, as Thou forgavest, I forgive; And now, my soul unto Thyself receive, --G.o.d's Son!"

Thick-cl.u.s.tered in the battered trench, amazed, They gazed at that strange sight ... and gazed ... and gazed; --G.o.d's sons!

--The Christ of G.o.d, come down to succour one Of their own number,--their own mate-- --G.o.d's son!

And none who saw that sight will e'er forget How once, upon the field of death, they met --G.o.d's Son.

A LITTLE TE DEUM FOR THESE TIMES

We thank Thee, Lord, For mercies manifold in these dark days;-- For Heart of Grace that would not suffer wrong; For all the stirrings in the dead dry bones; For bold self-steeling to the times' dread needs; For every sacrifice of self to Thee; For ease and wealth and life so freely given; For Thy deep sounding of the hearts of men; For Thy great opening of the hearts of men; For Thy close-knitting of the hearts of men; For all who sprang to answer the great call; For their high courage and self-sacrifice; For their endurance under deadly stress; For all the unknown heroes who have died To keep the land inviolate and free; For all who come back from the Gates of Death; For all who pa.s.s to larger life with Thee, And find in Thee the wider liberty; For hope of Righteous and Enduring Peace; For hope of cleaner earth and closer heaven; With burdened hearts, but faith unquenchable,-- We thank Thee, Lord!

THY WILL BE DONE!

"_Thy Will be done!_"

Let all the worlds Resound with that divinest prayer!

The joyous souls redeemed from ill Know all the wonders of Thy Will; Heaven's highest bliss is surely this,-- "_Thy Will be done! Thy Will be done!_"