346 POEMS 
This grave and speechless silhouette 
Keeps me betwixt him and the sun. 
They say he knew me when a child ; 
Born with my birth, he dies with me; 
Not once from his long task beguiled, 
Though sin or shame bid others flee. 
What if, when all this world of men 
Shall melt and fade and pass away, 
This deathless sprite should rise again 
And be himself my Judgment Day ? 
TWO VOYAGERS 
Wen first J mark upon my child’s clear brow 
Thought’s wrestling shadows their new strug- 
gle keep, 
Read my own conflicts in her questions deep, 
My own remorse in her repentant vow, 
My own vast ignorance in her “Why?” and 
“How?” 
When my precautions only serve to heap 
New burdens, and my cares her needs o’er- 
leap, 
Then to her separate destiny I bow. 
So seem we like two ships, that side by side, 
Older and younger, breast the same rough 
main 
Bound for one port, whatever winds betide, 
