[G. A. G.]

No finished castle is the house of God. The mind of Christ, supremest Architect, Man's puny apprehension doth correct From age to age, and turns afresh the sod. The vast historic temple now is trod 'Neath loftier roof and heavenlier aspéct; New light, new need, revealed, each ripe defect Goes down beneath man's feet diviner shod.

Alas, humanity no more can grasp Of thought of the divine Artificer, Than holds of ocean crinkled shell on beach! Yet His unfolding plan in vital clasp Possess, O human soul, amid the stir Of speeding worlds Love's flying-goal to reach!

BEN NACHMANI.

"O the brightness, clearness, beauty of heaven! Seer Ben Nachmani," Rabbi Levi said, "Of the Hagada Master thou of seven, Would that I knew whence Light, its fountainhead?" The Master whispered in the Rabbi's ear: "The Holy One, blessëd be He, in white Himself doth robe, and then the whole world clear In beauty glows with His majestic light." "Sayest thou so? That's word for word the psalm: 'The light Thy garment is which Thou dost wear.' Thou tell'st it here a secret 'neath the palm, O Master thou of seven with whitened hair!"

And softer fell the Master's whispered word: "I heard it this; O Rabbi, hast thou heard?"

RENEWAL.

In the old days Vannucci, color-dowered, Lit up young eyes with vision large and pure, That gathered in its iris-glow the lure Of sea and sky, and beauty earth-embowered; And Rafael Santi on the master showered The rich-hued passion of his soul, secure In art that should for evermore endure,-- But as he wrought his vision was defloured. For sake of art divine a seer bright-stoled, Whose eyes had drunk the steadfast splendors true Of sacred gems, this precious secret told: "Oft sight of these doth color-sense renew!"

Ah thus, true soul assoiled of life, thou ey'st, Mid thy enduring work, the quickening Christ!

THE CHRIST.

The noonday Truth In its sevenfold beam, Is the Christ, sandal-shod; Yea, the Truth in warm gleam Of color and shine, Both of age and of youth, As on life's plains and wolds His soul's prism unfolds The white thought of God, In human passion divine.

REVELATION.

As rising waves, rich jeweled by the sun, In movement link their brilliants each to each, And flash their glories in one crest of light, E'en so, unveiling, the Eternal One Did shew Himself by signs and glimmering speech, Then flashed in Christ His love-lit glory bright.

LIGHT AT EVENTIDE.

Through skies of molten gold and green the sun Floats with its cloud-wake o'er the glowing rim Of closing day; the same horizon brim Glows green and gold with a glad day begun. So closes life's full day, its guerdon won, To those whose trustful souls are joined to Him-- The world's great Light--whose hand the splendors limn At once of breaking day and day that's done.

BEN SHALOM.

Ben Shalom read one night from out a roll: "Vessel of honor, consecrate ('O soul!') Prepared for every worthy work, and meet For the Master's use!" And finger on scroll, He prayed aloud: "Make me his silvern bowl!" Lo! Emeth at his side, God's angel fleet: "Yea, in His mansion here; and when unfold The everlasting doors, chalice of gold Brimming with His great love--heaven's vintage sweet!"

BANISHMENT.

As tiptoe dawn extinguished all the stars, There lay on a fevered flower the cooling dew; Full soon the scornful sun, with white heat glare, Forever bade the offending thing from view; But as day closed, it outshone flaming Mars, Or wheeling splendors of the Northern Bear.

NOW ARE THE BRIDALS OF THE LEAFY WOOD.

Now are the bridals of the leafy wood, O'er dusky brooks the golden sunbars fall, Birds fan the moonbeams in the balmy dark-- Look me! the banners of the holy rood Shake in the battle's roar; sweet duty's call Wings all my spirit like a soaring lark.

MAY'S FAIRY TALE.

Under the yellow chestnut tree The children played right merrily.

From leafy gold came pattering down The prickly burs with nuts of brown.

"I do believe," said bright-eyed May, "We're pelted by some startled fay!

For fairies love no tree so well As chestnut broad in which to dwell."

"Tell us a fairy tale," they said, "A fairy tale," they eager pled,

"About the fairies of to-day!" And circled round the wise-eyed May.

With air of one who tells new truth, The gentle May, with touch of ruth,

This tale of Elfland sweetly told, While all stood deep in autumn's gold:

"Long, long ago the fairies found Their homes in flowers on the ground.

The buttercups were full of them, And pansies sparkled like a gem.

But fields by men were often mown, The flowers were plucked as soon as grown.

Thus without tents to shed cold dews, The pixies lost their brilliant hues.

Their kirtles green and mantles gold Were crushed and torn and smeared with mould.

(You should have seen Mab's ermine cape, Draggled in muck till black as crape!)

At last, his gossamer hammocks gone, Their daylight king, bright Oberon,

(Who could not find two crimson heads Of clover strung with spider-webs)

And Mab, the moonlight queen of elves Took solemn counsel with themselves.

'Twas in the early summer days They met at twilight all the fays,

Under a grove with fronded plumes, Whose trees were white with spikes of blooms.

With elfin lance of wild-bee sting Stood Oberon, at the outer ring.

His knights each wore upon his breast A firefly lamp in beetle's vest.

With glow-worm crown of greenish light, Sitting her fairy palfrey white,

The queen, by wave of saffron brand, Hushed into silence fairyland.

Then with her sandaled foot she pricked Her wasp-sting spur (and palfrey kicked!)--

Her moonbeam bridle firm in grip, She plied the silken milkweed whip,

And rode straight up the waiting tree, And out each branch its blooms to see.

When Mab (her own and palfrey's wings Of gauzy blue outspread) the rings

Of wistful pixies leapt into, Sitting erect her horse so true,

In silvery laughter broke each fay, Like silvery tinkling brook in May.

Waving her saffron brand, she said: 'Fairies! your future home and bed!'

And pointed up the flower-lit tree,-- Thither they swarmed as swarms the bee!

In turn each bole and fronded roof Was trod by Elf-queen palfrey's hoof,

Till fays who bore the flame-wood lamp, Swung in their peaceful airy camp.

That was a chestnut grove they found! And as the sunny spring comes round,

Queen Mab, when shines the silver moon, And elfin bugles blow in tune,

Still rides high up each chestnut tree, That fays may know where safe they'll be,

And golden-belted Oberon Swing in his hammock like a Don,--

For palfrey prints his tiny shoe On every branch that's wet with dew.

My story's told, now for our play!" "And is the story true, O May?"

With air of one who knows the truth, The sweet-eyed May, tall for her youth,

The overhanging branch down drew, And shewed the prints of palfrey's shoe--

And laughing said: "Now you all see Why it is called Horse-Chestnut tree."

MY ROBIN.