Life and Love,

ONCE, in the long ago. when Life and Love
Walked ever hand in hand.
They came to earth from some fair realm
above,
And wandered through the land.
Much they did find whereon their art to try,
For then the world was new.
They shook the sunbeams from the bended sky,
And steeped the ground with dew.
L'pon tlie fields the emerald turf they spread. And clad the hills in green;
They laid the meadows in the vales, and led
The glittering streams between.
Life lifted up the flowers throughout the land
By woodland slope and fen;
Love stooped and touched them with her
glowing hand.
And they have bloomed since then.
Life taught the birds to build within the brake, And clothed each fledging's wing;
Love lifted up her voice but once to wake
The songs which now they sing.
Thus ever hand in hand they journeyed on. From sea to sunlit sea.
Their garments had the freshness of the dawn
Which wakes the flowering lea.
And journeying thus, at length they found a
child
New risen from the sod.
Life frowned, and said, "He is a beast." Love
smiled.
And said, "He is a god."
Then were their hands disjoined, and from the
ground
Betwixt the twain arose A dark and shadowy figure, sorrow-crowned,
And draped in sable woes.
Because that Nature's tenderest demands
Did seem of little worth.
From henceforth Life and Love their parted
hands
Shall join no more on earth.
For this the flowers shall haste to fail and fade,
The wood and field turn sere. And all the songsters of the summer glade
Fly with the changing year.
Life lifted up the child and gave him breath.
And he did walk between—
Love on the right. Life on the left—and Death
Did follow, all unseen.
"What wilt thou give," said Life, "and I will
show
Thine eyes the path of fame.
And lead thee there, that after-years shall know
And wonder at thy name?"
"All," saith the child, "that Fate shall bring
to me,
And all that Fame can give
To heart and mind—all will I give to thee.
If I shall always live."
But Love stooped low and gently drew his head
Against her broad white breast.
"What wilt thou give to me," she softly said,
"And I will give thee rest?"
"Alas!" he answered, "I am now bereft
Of all I might control.
One gift remains—myself alone am left—
To thee I give my soul."
Love put her sandals on his naked feet.
And in her tender care
Gave him her broidered garment, soft and
sweet,
Such as a god might wear.
She girt his body with the golden zone
Loosed from her own warm breast;
And on his lips the imprint of her own
She passionately pressed.
And in his heart she lit the deathless fire
Which rests not night nor day,
But still doth turn the soul with fond desire
To Beauty's path alway.
So they did journey, and the land was fair;
Each day was like a dream
In which the soul moves with the moving air
Along some crystal stream.
But T,ife began to weary of the way.
Such fickle heart hath she.
And though Love plead with tears, she would
not stay,
But shook her fair hand free.
Then Death came swiftly up in silent might.
With arms outstretched and cold.
And bare the child hack to the land of Night,
To mingle mould with mould.
But Love still journeyed on from scene to scene,
To find some land of rest.
And ever at her side a soul did lean.
Close to her faithful breast.
Long ages have rolled bv. Earth's children
find
Life false and fickle still;
Her nromises are fair, but she. unkind.
Forsakes them all at w^ill.
The nath is sweet and blooming still the same
As in that ancient day,
And sable Death still follows hard, to claim
The soul-forsaken clay.
And still she lives whose dear divine control
Nor Life nor Death can sever;
And journeying still the unimprisoned soul
Goes on with Love forever.

—R. B. W. - 1907