A WAY FROM THE SOUNDS OF WAR
i I was riding thro 1 The forest. where ihe tali ! ircc? rciL'Ucd -uprenij, . And be-ug s mog,ice of a dreamer- I dropped 1 the nuns to dream; j The ?un threw welcome gladness on the uari row path ] took, ; While die tree? tv. d out t-hoir branches, HrI toe loav'.s of -erne ime hook, j And, as I jxindcre,! decplv on the wonder? of I And looked above and round about where He | had ; e-t, his Rod, i t heard a grinning saw-mil!, and J saw l in ivac; n ibn trees. ; Where tun wheel? worked sure and grimly, sending warning? on liic breew. Too rimu and tin., maiai, t-lio white pi no end : j t ac rod, i ' .■shivered lor n moment, as a- human shake? 1 j wn-h dread, i 1 And their suppticacng finger? stretched to i 1 the eternal blue ; Where somewhere in (ho wilderness the eve? I of (Jod looked thro’. j ; I saw a i-eani of bullocks, heard the bars!: I j clang ot a rbam. ' 'ud the warders lumber;-! onward with lnc ir | precious er,poled slain, j And a, ‘(it-Jung sigh rose everywhere, and I shook tho smallest, ireo, As I tv" awful thought came o'er them. ‘The | next Mow falls on me. ' ! I rode nearer to examine, looked oat the I r.ams low i Waiting anxious, whispering: “Were they : to stay or go ?" ! Ann I thought of grand pianos, and hand- , i some panelled rooms. • I Of wooden doiis and houses, of table-tops and i i brooms. l Of what was the vocation of those patient ' logs down there. : And what man mould determine the, future ; i and tho core. I ]At my sido a heap of posts lay sun- j mermg in the sun. i ; I wondered if they minded being posts for 1 '■ anyone, Tho’ building up of fences is useful, into, and rial. : Would they rather be piano-, which a lady’s 1 j fingers leei? In the- distance were the smoke stumps lying : dismal in a row, j And mv heart leaped up within me at the [ wilderness of woe, | And my every hope cried outward in fh n j fullness of my soul. I For some fixed and sure ambition, for so me ■ chance to gain a goal. | In the forest of a lifetime, - where the. tree? are growing round, | The great ones and the small ones, and those ■ just above the ground. | They all have a vocation, there’s a goal for ' every one. | Though should any turn to smoking stumps ! as their life they run, I There comes a wave of pity, a blackness over all. . ... ! And those whove risen highest will pass along [ the bail, For I’d rather lift a fence up in the backblocks, any day. Then bo a stump left smoking in another fellow’s way.
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A WAY FROM THE SOUNDS OF WAR, Evening Star, Issue 15699, 13 January 1915