POEMS 
PRELUDE 
I DREAMED one night that the calm hosts of 
heaven 
Had lost their changeless paths ; and as I stood 
Beside the latticed window, I could watch 
Those strange, fair pilgrims wandering from 
their shrines. 
Up to the zenith rose the moon, and paused ; 
Stars went and came, and waxed and waned 
again, 
Then vanished into nothing ; meteors pale 
Stole, soft as wind-blown blossoms, down the 
night ; 
Till I awoke to find the cold gray morn 
Hymning its lonely dirges through the pines. 
Were it not better that the planets fail, 
And every heavenly orbit wander wide, 
Than that this human life, its years like stars, 
Should miss the accustomed sequence of con- 
tent ? 
All times are good ; life’s morning let us sing, 
