O Word of green and shafts of golden
sun; of nightly, silent silver moonlight;
and the strange songs of gentle winds!
O Time of dreams, and trysts, and
olden memories come to life! Sweet summer,
may I sing as thou, for every leaf
of thine is pregnant with music in the soft
winds, and every rose inspires the
tenderness of song. I yield myself to the
thousand enchantments of sky and
field and wood, and play again like a child
on the soft green of the earth.
And as the God of the universe has
made thee to bloom in tenderness, so also
may my heart be made to bloom again.
Love some one—in God's name
love some one—for this is
the bread of the inner life, without
which a part of you will
starve and die; and though you
feel you must be stern,
even hard, in your life of affairs,
make for yourself at least
a little corner, somewhere in the
great world, where you may
unbosom and be kind.
A clear, cool night. I have been reading,
but the thoughts of man do not solace me.
I raised the curtain and looked at the moon,
clear and silvery; and I brushed
some of the unrest out of my mind.
I know all the theories of the moon.
There have been times when the symbols
of science have robbed me of some of its
mystery and charm
But no one can explain the moon any
more than a grasshopper can explain me.
In youth, the moon promised too much.
But now I understand better; that was not
the moon's fault.
Also the moon and I have this in common:
we both are wanderers across the night.
To be with you this evening,
rarest of the evenings all,
And listen to the whispering leaves
and to the night bird's call
The silvery moonlight on your face—
To be with you in some still place.
To be with you somewhere within
this evening's mystic shade,
To hear your plans and hopes
and tell you mine, all unafraid
That you'd forget to hold them dear,
When I'm away and you're not here.
To be somewhere alone with you
and watch the myriad stars,
Far golden worlds beyond the noisy
earth's unkindly jars.
As quietly they sail night's sea
Above the world and you and me.
Whatever else you do or forbear,
impose upon yourself the task of happiness;
and now and then abandon yourself
to the joy of laughter.
And however much you condemn
the evil in the world, remember that the
world is not all evil; that somewhere
children are at play, as you yourself in the
old days; that women still find joy
in the stalwart hearts of men;
And that men, treading with restless feet
their many paths, may yet find refuge
from the storms of the world in the cheerful
house of love.
You are not poor if you
love something, someone,
humanity maybe, and have faith
that you will somewhere,
sometime be satisfied, though you
know not how.
You may even feel that your
sorrow is but a school to teach
you the virtues of sympathy and
gentleness, that will avail
you hereafter, though you know
I am not always on the highway
that leads to this hilltop,
but I have seen the lighted road
stretching on and on;
sometimes I have even fancied
that I saw the windows of
the castle all aglow.
And I have hastened my steps
to be in time for the feast,
and taken counsel of my courage
lest I falter and fall on the way.
May I keep this vision of
the castle ever before my eyes,
and a belief in my heart
that the journey is worthwhile,
and the castle and the glow
in the windows not all illusion.
Sleep quietly, now that
the gates of the day are
closed. Leave tomorrow's
problems for tomorrow.
The earth is peaceful.
Only the stars are abroad;
and they will not
cause you any trouble.