 | Joaquin Miller's Poems |  |
TO SAVE A SOUL
“How shall man surely save his soul?”
'Twas sunset by the Jordan. Gates
Of light were closing, and the whole
Vast heaven hung darkened as the fates.
“How shall man surely save his soul?” he said,
As fell the kingly day, discrowned and dead.
'Twas sunset by the Jordan. Gates
Of light were closing, and the whole
Vast heaven hung darkened as the fates.
“How shall man surely save his soul?” he said,
As fell the kingly day, discrowned and dead.
Then Christ said: “Hear this parable:
Two men set forth and journeyed fast
To reach a place ere darkness fell
And closed the gates ere they had passed;
Two worthy men, each free alike of sin,
But one did seek most sure to enter in.
Two men set forth and journeyed fast
To reach a place ere darkness fell
And closed the gates ere they had passed;
Two worthy men, each free alike of sin,
But one did seek most sure to enter in.
“And so when in their path there lay
A cripple with a broken staff,
The one did pass straight on his way,
While one did stoop and give the half
His strength, and all his time did nobly share
Till they at sunset saw their city fair.
A cripple with a broken staff,
The one did pass straight on his way,
While one did stoop and give the half
His strength, and all his time did nobly share
Till they at sunset saw their city fair.
“And he who would make sure ran fast
To reach the golden sunset gate,
Where captains and proud chariots passed,
But, lo, he came one moment late!
The gate was closed, and all night long he cried
He cried and cried, but never watch replied.
To reach the golden sunset gate,
Where captains and proud chariots passed,
But, lo, he came one moment late!
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He cried and cried, but never watch replied.
“Meanwhile the man who cared to save
Another as he would be saved,
Came slowly on, gave bread and gave
Cool waters, as he stooped and laved
The wounds. At last, bent double with his weight,
He passed, unchid, the porter's private gate.
Another as he would be saved,
Came slowly on, gave bread and gave
Cool waters, as he stooped and laved
The wounds. At last, bent double with his weight,
He passed, unchid, the porter's private gate.
“Hear then this lesson, hear and learn:
He who would save his soul, I say,
Must lose his soul; must dare to turn
And lift the fallen by the way;
Must make his soul worth saving by some deed
That grows, and grows some small last seed.”
He who would save his soul, I say,
Must lose his soul; must dare to turn
And lift the fallen by the way;
Must make his soul worth saving by some deed
That grows, and grows some small last seed.”
| Joaquin Miller's Poems | |