THE SUN-DIAL AT MORVEN
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
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.
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.
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
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
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
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.
(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.