 | The Stranger at the Gate |  |
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But still did the Mighty Makers
Stir in the common sod;
The corn through its awful acres
Trembled and thrilled with God!
Stir in the common sod;
The corn through its awful acres
Trembled and thrilled with God!
More than a man was the sower,
Lured by a man's desire,
For a triune Bride walked close at his side—
Dew and Dust and Fire!
Lured by a man's desire,
For a triune Bride walked close at his side—
Dew and Dust and Fire!
More than a man was the plowman,
Shouting his gee and haw;
For a something dim kept pace with him,
And ever the poet saw;
Shouting his gee and haw;
For a something dim kept pace with him,
And ever the poet saw;
Till the winds of the cosmic struggle
made of his flesh a flute,
To echo the tune of a whirlwind rune
Unto the million mute.
made of his flesh a flute,
To echo the tune of a whirlwind rune
Unto the million mute.
| The Stranger at the Gate | |