374 



HE IRRIGATION AGE. 



When cyclones rend when lijihtniug blights, 



'Tis naught but fate: 

 There is no God of wrath who smites 



Jn heanljss hate. 



Behind the th JUSTS that injure m:in, 

 There is no purpose, thought or plati 



The jeweled cup of love we drain, 



And friendship's wine 

 Now swiftly flows in every vela 



With warmth divine, 

 And so we love and hope and dream 

 That in death's sky there is a gleam. 



Vie walk according to o ir light. 



Pursue the path 

 That leads to honor's stainless height. 



Careless of wratn 

 Or curse of Gfod or priestly spite, 

 Longing to know and do the right. 



We love our fdllow-man, oar kind, 



Wile, child, and friend, 

 To phantoms we are deaf and blind, 



Hut we extend 



The helping h tiid to the distressed; 

 By lifting others we are blessed. 

 Love's sacred flame within the heart, 



And friendship's glow : 

 While tne miracles of art 



Their wealth bestow 

 Upon the thrilled and joyous brain, 

 And present raptures banish pain. 



We love no phantoms of the skies, 



But living flesh 

 With passion's soft and soulful eyes. 



Lips warm and fresh. 



And cheeks with health's red fla? unfurled. 

 The breathing angels of this world, 



The hands th;it help are bettor far 



Than lips that p> ay. 

 Love is ihe ever-zleaiiiing star 



That leads the way 



'' hat shines not on vasue worlds of bliss 

 But on a paradise in this. 



We do not pr iy, or weep, or wail ; 



We have no dread, 

 Xo fear to pass beyond the veil 



That hides the dead. 

 And yet we <iuestion, dream, and guess, 

 Hut knowledge we do not possess. 



We ask, yet nothing seems to know; 



We cry in vain. 

 There is no "Master of the Show" 



Who will explain. 



Or from the feature tear the mask; 

 And yet we dream, and still we ask: 



Is there beyond the silent night 



An endless day/ 

 Is death a door that leads to light, 



We cannot say. 



The tongueless secret locked in fate 

 We do not know. We hope and wait. 



Death touched the lips that spoke and bade them 



cease; 



Said to the restless, questioning spirit "peace", 

 I'eath called, and without fenr or groan 

 lie passed from earth to the great unknown. 



No longer need he question hopes or dream. 

 Or speculate on the Creator's scheme. 

 ]>caih, the manician.maketh all things plain 

 Gave him knowledge that he sought to gain. 



L. K. W 



