138

date: 1920-04-03

names-on-the-page:

transcription: April 3, 1920 - Page 8

Knelt, offering up the first fruits,
The loom's first born
And the magic of the sages.

But none of these, beloved,
Were aught unto thine saffron hands
Lain for an instant in supplicance
O'er thy yellow breast, and the seclusion
Of the veil of cashmere, and thine eyes.
------
-The Weaver of Days-

Oh, I watch the Weaver
At His loom. And the purple cloth
Is stretched. And He weaves
Golden flecks within it and a silver disc
And a golden sun. Oh, I have see
The Weaver weaving; seen Him hesitate
An instant ere He laid the shuttle by,
And new morning came!
----
-This Easter Tide-

Oh Golgotha!
In the early morning
When the sun tips thy curve,
Shall a holy shadow lay
Upon thy brow, or shalt thou
Fling wide beneath the coming sun, declaring
Thy emptiness of the God-agony?

Golgotha! In the early morn
Shalt thou be crowned of thorns,
Curtained in the purity of blooms?
----
-The Resurrection-

And His dust man hath inherited.
And His word man hath inherited.
And His spirit man hath become a part of.
Lo, the ages may not sift ash enough
To cover a single utterance!
Man's wisdom may not torture
By the contortion of words one jot
Or tittle of its substance!

Herein is Eternity announced
And resurrection acclaimed!

(2341)