Part 4 — WILLIAM BRIGHTY RANDS

WHEN Love arose in heart and deed To wake the world to greater joy, ‘What can she give me now?’ said Greed, Who thought to win some costly toy. He rose, he ran, he stoop’d, he clutch’d; And soon the Flowers, that Love let fall, In Greed’s hot grasp were fray’d and smutch’d, And Greed said, ‘Flowers! Can this be all?’ He flung them down and went his way, He cared no jot for thyme or rose; But boys and girls came out to play, And some took these and some took those— Red, blue, and white, and green and gold; And at their touch the dew return’d, And all the bloom a thousandfold— So red, so ripe, the roses burn’d!

INTO the skies, one summer’s day, I sent a little Thought away; Up to where, in the blue round, The sun sat shining without sound. Then my Thought came back to me.— Little Thought, what did you see In the regions whence you come? And when I spoke, my Thought was dumb. But she breathed of what was there, In the pure bright upper air; And, because my Thought so shone, I knew she had been shone upon. Next, by night a Thought I sent Up into the firmament; When the eager stars were out, And the still moon shone about. And my Thought went past the moon In between the stars, but soon Held her breath and durst not stir, For the fear that covered her; Then she thought, in this demur: ‘Dare I look beneath the shade, Into where the worlds are made; Where the suns and stars are wrought? Shall I meet another Thought? ‘Will that other Thought have wings? Shall I meet strange, heavenly things? Thought of Thoughts, and Light of Lights, Breath of Breaths, and Night of Nights?’ Then my Thought began to hark In the illuminated dark, Till the silence, over, under, Made her heart beat more than thunder. And my Thought, came trembling back, But with something on her track, And with something at her side; Nor till she has lived and died, Lived and died, and lived again, Will that awful thing seem plain.