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Two Lives
I
- ONE stood with his face to the light;
- He held a sceptre of song
- That ruled men’s souls till they strove to the right,
- And set their feet on the wrong.
- ‘I am but a slave,’ he said,
- ‘The servant of man am I,
- To sing of the life that is more than bread,
- And the deaths that are life to die.
- ‘And the might of my song shall sway
- The millions who sit in shame,
- Till they cast their idols of gold away,
- And worship the true God’s name.’
- So he sang, and the nations heard
- Through their drunken sleep of years,
- And their limbs in their golden fetters stirred
- As he sang to their drowsy ears.
- Hope woke, in her spellbound bowers,
- And gave heed to each clear keen word,
- Till Love looked out from a net of flowers,
- And called to his heart—and he heard.
- And his song rose higher, more sweet,
- As his dreams rose more sweet, more high:
- ‘’Tis Love shall aid me, and shall complete
- The spell I shall conquer by!
- ‘We two to men’s souls will sing,
- And the work shall be ours, be ours;
- Together welcome the thorns that bring
- More fruit than the sweetest flowers!’
- But the woman he loved said ‘No!
- To me all your soul is due,
- Can I share with a world, whatever its woe,
- My heart’s one treasure, you?
- ‘There are plenty to sing of the right
- And give their lives for the truth—
- But you are mine, and shall sing delight,
- And beauty, and love, and youth.
- ‘For these are the songs men love,
- These stir their dull brains like wine.
- They hate the songs you were proudest of
- In the days when you were not mine.
- ‘And if for the world you sing
- It will pay you with fame and gold,
- And the fame and the gold to me you shall bring
- For my heart and my hands to hold.
- ‘Besides—what steads it to try,
- One man against all the rest?
- Let the world and its rights and its wrongs go by,
- And hide your eyes on my breast!’
- Then the man bowed down his head
- And she crowned him with roses sweet;
- And he laboured for fame and bread,
- And laid his wage at her feet.
- And the millions who starve and sin,
- He shut them out of his life
- Where she was alone shut in—
- His ruin, his prize, his wife.
- And all that he might have been,
- And all that he might have done,
- These lie with the things that shall not be seen
- For ever under the sun.
- His children play round his knee,
- But he sighs as they come and go—
- For they speak of visions he cannot see,
- In a tongue that he used to know.
- He sings of love and of flowers,
- And forgets what they used to mean,
- For gold is lord of his empty hours,
- And fame of his soul is queen.
- And the woman has long possessed
- What she bade him win for her sake;
- But she holds with the gold accurst unrest,
- And the fame with a wild heart‐ache.
- For the light in her eyes is dim,
- Or dim are his eyes that gaze.
- There is no light that can light for him
- The gloom of his sordid days.
- He will die, and his name be enrolled
- Where marble makes mock of clay;
- (Oh, the pitiful clay, made brave with gold!)
- And there let it rot away!
II
- One stood in the way of life
- And said: ‘I will serve and strive
- And never weary of strife
- For just so long as I live.
- ‘The sum of service I’m worth
- I swear it, beyond recall,
- To the mother of all, the earth,
- To men, the brothers of all.
- ‘I have no voice for a song,
- No trumpet nor lyre is mine,
- But my sword is sharp, and my arm is strong:
- Liberty! these are thine!’
- So he followed where high hopes led,
- And he paused not for blame or praise,
- But ever rejoiced to tread
- The roughest and rightest ways.
- He scorned ambitions and powers,
- Delight was to him but a word,
- Till Love looked out from a brake a flowers
- And called to his heart, and he heard.
- Then the man’s whole soul cried sore:
- ‘I am tired of patience and pain!
- What if the lights that have gone before
- Should be but visions and vain?
- ‘Why should my youth be spent
- In following a marsh‐light gleam?
- Why should my manhood be content
- With what may be but a dream?
- ‘The sword I am used to wield
- Is as much as my hands can hold,
- I will turn aside from the battle‐field
- To the fields where men gather gold.
- ‘For while I carry the sword
- I can hold neither gold nor you—
- And the sword is heavy, and your least word
- Is music my life sings to!’
- But the woman who loved him spake,
- She spake brave words with a sigh—
- ‘Rather than drop the sword for my sake
- Turn its point to your heart and die!
- ‘It is better to die than live
- If life means nothing but greed
- To clutch the gifts that the world can give
- And turn your back on its need.
- ‘And I have my life‐work too,
- A banner to bear have I;
- Shall my flag be dragged in the dust by you,
- Who should help me to hold it high?
- ‘Hard looks life’s every line
- When the colours of love are effaced,
- But death would be harder, O heart of mine,
- After a life disgraced!
- ‘And what though we never see
- Sweet Love’s sweet fruit at its best;
- My children’s play at your knee,
- Your baby’s sleep at my breast?
- ‘Only one life is ours—
- Shall we die with no world’s work done,
- Having covered our shame with flowers,
- And shrunk from sight of the sun?
- ‘No! Be the sword for him,
- Banner of light for me—
- Voice at the heart when the eyes grown dim,
- “Liberty! This for thee!”’
- Then he bowed him low at her knees,
- And she gave him the thorny crown
- Which whoso wears knows no rest nor ease
- Till Death bids him lay it down.
- And they turned, and they passed away
- To parting, and longing, and tears,
- To carry the sword and the flag away
- Through the cold clean desolate years,
- To work for the world, and to hear
- When the long race nearly is run,
- Like a voice in a dream, a voice most dear,
- ‘Faithful and good, well done!’
- And no man remembers his name,
- Nor hers, who was never his wife.
- Their names are written in letters of flame
- In the book of eternal life.
