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Show DESTINY. I will sing a son that never brother bard bath sung to thee, For the spirit of its rhythm la revealed, alone tome; Maybe on the nights of Heaven aerajphs sing It to their lyres. Maybe In the depths ot Hades devils shriek It in their tires; But I know not, and ye know not; hearken t Its hopeless strain. And deny It, or dery it, still its ripened trutlm remain. Nothing Is that is not ordered by predestinating predestinat-ing power. From the master march of planets to the soft fringe of a flower; We are merely supple puppets, and that powet pulls the string, Making of this man a menlaf, making of that clown a king; . Models one iu manly beauty peferct In twrf part, Groat In mind, and grand, majestic, in the Impulse Im-pulse of hie heart. Marvelous, serene and lofty, born the masses to command With a look, a tone, a motion of his white be- Jeweled hand. He, the stately one aud saintly, seldom feels tho spur of sin, And can stay it and suppress It by the master will within; His are gold, and love, and glory, and the faith that sees afar An unending lire of rapture o'er the blue rim of our star! But, behold a fellow-mortal, fashioned on another an-other plan, Coarse, deformed and mlsgotten more a devil than a man; Heir to sin, and want, aud sorrow, born without with-out a sense of shame, Stung by sharp, keene, tierce desires burning In his blood like flame; Weak, unbalanced and repulsive, reveling la sensual things, If he hath a soul within him, 'tis a soul that never sings 'Tis a soul that hath no wings: If he speeds the blasting bullet through the heart of fellow-man. Blameless he, for It was written when the universe uni-verse began. He was born without the powor or the Impulse to forbear, When the dumb, resistless forces of tho cycles centered there; That which gave him life had given passions that Impelled him here. Circled hlra with strong temptations from his birth-cry to his bier! Formed the hour and circumstances; placed the pistol in his hand. But withheld the strength and schooling his Impulses to command. Nothing la that Is not ordered by predestinating predestinat-ing power. From the master march of planets to. the soft fringe of a flower: From the Charity that standethwlthher sunny wings unfurled. While her white hands shower blessings, and her sweet Hps kiss the world. I'nto Crime, with bloody b-illet, flaming torch ami dripping blade, Stalking over tombs and ruins Its destroylnn hand has made. If a-through the mists phantasmal with the salnte we walk In rhyme. If our hearts are set to music of a melody sublime, sub-lime, If we wade with knife and fagot through the blood our hands have spilt. From that power came our glory, from that power came our guilt. Will Hubbard-Kenian. |