Are we not part and parcel of yourselves?

Like strands in one great braid we entertwine And make the perfect whole. You could not be, Unless we gave you birth; we are the soil From which you sprang, yet sterile were that soil Save as you planted. (Though in the Book we read One woman bore a child with no man's aid, We find no record of a man-child born Without the aid of woman! Fatherhood Is but a small achievement at the best, While motherhood comprises heaven and h.e.l.l.) This ever-growing argument of s.e.x Is most unseemly, and devoid of sense.

Why waste more time in controversy, when There is not time enough for all of love, Our rightful occupation in this life?

Why prate of our defects, of where we fail, When just the story of our worth would need Eternity for telling, and our best Development comes ever through your praise, As through our praise you reach your highest self?

Oh! had you not been miser of your praise And let our virtues be their own reward, The old-established order of the world Would never have been changed. Small blame is ours For this uns.e.xing of ourselves, and worse.

Effeminising of the male. We were Content, sir, till you starved us, heart and brain.

All we have done, or wise, or otherwise, Traced to the root, was done for love of you.

Let us taboo all vain comparisons, And go forth as G.o.d meant us, hand in hand, Companions, mates, and comrades evermore; Two parts of one divinely ordained whole.

THE TRAVELLER

Reply to Rudyard Kipling's "He travels the fastest who travels alone."

Who travels alone with his eyes on the heights, Though he laughs in the day time oft weeps in the nights;

For courage goes down at the set of the sun, When the toil of the journey is all borne by one.

He speeds but to grief though full gaily he ride Who travels alone without love at his side.

Who travels alone without lover or friend But hurries from nothing, to naught at the end.

Though great be his winnings and high be his goal, He is bankrupt in wisdom and beggared in soul.

Life's one gift of value to him is denied Who travels alone without love at his side.

It is easy enough in this world to make haste If one live for that purpose--but think of the waste;

For life is a poem to leisurely read, And the joy of the journey lies not in its speed.

Oh! vain his achievement and petty his pride Who travels alone without love at his side.

THE EARTH

The earth is yours and mine, Our G.o.d's bequest.

That testament divine Who dare contest?

Usurpers of the earth, We claim our share.

We are of royal birth.

Beware! beware!

Unloose the hand of greed From G.o.d's fair land, We claim but what we need - That, we demand.

NOW

I leave with G.o.d to-morrow's where and how, And do concern myself but with the Now, That little word, though half the future's length, Well used, holds twice its meaning and its strength.

Like one blindfolded groping out his way, I will not try to touch beyond to-day.

Since all the future is concealed from sight I need but strive to make the next step right.

That done, the next, and so on, till I find Perchance some day I am no longer blind, And looking up, behold a radiant Friend Who says, "Rest, now, for you have reached the end."

YOU AND TO-DAY

With every rising of the sun Think of your life as just begun.

The past has shrived and buried deep All yesterdays--there let them sleep,

Nor seek to summon back one ghost Of that innumerable host.

Concern yourself with but to-day; Woo it and teach it to obey

Your wish and will. Since time began To-day has been the friend of man.

But in his blindness and his sorrow He looks to yesterday and to-morrow.

You and to-day! a soul sublime And the great pregnant hour of time.

With G.o.d between to bind the train, Go forth, I say--attain--attain.

THE REASON

Do you know what moves the tides As they swing from low to high?

'Tis the love, love, love, Of the moon within the sky.

Oh! they follow where she guides, Do the faithful-hearted tides.

Do you know what moves the earth Out of winter into spring?

'Tis the love, love, love, Of the sun, the mighty king.

Oh the rapture that finds birth In the kiss of sun and earth!

Do you know what makes sweet songs Ring for me above earth's strife?