THE SUN-DIAL AT MORVEN

FOR BAYARD AND HELEN STOCKTON

  Two hundred years of blessing I record
  For Morven’s house, protected by the Lord: 
  And still I stand among old-fashioned flowers
  To mark for Morven many sunlit hours.

THE SUN-DIAL AT WELLS COLLEGE

FOR THE CLASS OF 1904

  The shadow by my finger cast
  Divides the future from the past: 
  Before it, sleeps the unborn hour,
  In darkness, and beyond thy power: 
  Behind its unreturning line,
  The vanished hour, no longer thine: 
  One hour alone is in thy hands,—­
  The NOW on which the shadow stands.

March, 1904.

TO MARK TWAIN

I

AT A BIRTHDAY FEAST

  With memories old and wishes new
  We crown our cups again,
  And here’s to you, and here’s to you
  With love that ne’er shall wane! 
  And may you keep, at sixty-seven,
  The joy of earth, the hope of heaven,
  And fame well-earned, and friendship true,
  And peace that comforts every pain,
  And faith that fights the battle through,
  And all your heart’s unbounded wealth,
  And all your wit, and all your health,—­
  Yes, here’s a hearty health to you,
  And here’s to you, and here’s to you,
  Long life to you, Mark Twain.

November 30, 1902.

II

AT THE MEMORIAL MEETING

  We knew you well, dear Yorick of the West,
  The very soul of large and friendly jest! 
  You loved and mocked the broad grotesque of things
  In this new world where all the folk are kings.

  Your breezy humour cleared the air, with sport
  Of shams that haunt the democratic court;
  For even where the sovereign people rule,
  A human monarch needs a royal fool.

  Your native drawl lent flavour to your wit;
  Your arrows lingered but they always hit;
  Homeric mirth around the circle ran,
  But left no wound upon the heart of man.

  We knew you kind in trouble, brave in pain;
  We saw your honour kept without a stain;
  We read this lesson of our Yorick’s years,—­
  True wisdom comes with laughter and with tears.

November 30, 1910.

STARS AND THE SOUL

(TO CHARLES A. YOUNG, ASTRONOMER)

  “Two things,” the wise man said, “fill me with awe: 
  The starry heavens and the moral law.” 
  Nay, add another wonder to thy roll,—­
  The living marvel of the human soul!

  Born in the dust and cradled in the dark,
  It feels the fire of an immortal spark,
  And learns to read, with patient, searching eyes,
  The splendid secret of the unconscious skies.