Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold By "F. Harald Williams"[i.e. F. W. O. Ward]. First Edition |
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CREDO.
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 | Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold |  |
CREDO.
Fenced by my little study walls I daily toil and spin,
And hear from far like trumpet calls the struggle and the sin,
The joy and sorrow of the morrow from which my threads of life I borrow,
And death that is akin.
While, by my faith, of mingled glooms and glories do I raise
New towers with marble steps and rooms of builded prayer and praise;
Grand images of palaces, and graces beyond Guido
With all his fairest fantasies, start from a simple credo.
The thought that wedded is to will,
For ever making much with its creative touch,
Brings worlds of being into seeing
And ransomed out of wrong and ill.
I formed my heaven, I formed my hell,
And both have lightly trod,
And in its mighty crucible
I shaped myself and God.
And hear from far like trumpet calls the struggle and the sin,
The joy and sorrow of the morrow from which my threads of life I borrow,
And death that is akin.
While, by my faith, of mingled glooms and glories do I raise
New towers with marble steps and rooms of builded prayer and praise;
Grand images of palaces, and graces beyond Guido
With all his fairest fantasies, start from a simple credo.
The thought that wedded is to will,
For ever making much with its creative touch,
Brings worlds of being into seeing
And ransomed out of wrong and ill.
I formed my heaven, I formed my hell,
And both have lightly trod,
And in its mighty crucible
I shaped myself and God.
Securely from my citadel I see the battle rage
Around, and as a sentinel stand on a higher stage;
The world's great story and the glory to earth's most distant promontory,
Seem all my heritage.
I make, I mar whate'er is good—the realms that proudly rise,
The miracle of womanhood, the purple in the skies;
The green water, the gossamer, the sword blade from Toledo,
The web of the philosopher, spring radiant from my credo.
The tossing wave, the troubled wind,
The passion and the pain so often sweet and vain,
The soul of sadness hid in gladness,
I freely loose, I freely bind.
I wrought the hell, I wrought the heaven,
And ready at my nod
Compelled by faith's creative leaven,
Emerges man or God.
Around, and as a sentinel stand on a higher stage;
199
Seem all my heritage.
I make, I mar whate'er is good—the realms that proudly rise,
The miracle of womanhood, the purple in the skies;
The green water, the gossamer, the sword blade from Toledo,
The web of the philosopher, spring radiant from my credo.
The tossing wave, the troubled wind,
The passion and the pain so often sweet and vain,
The soul of sadness hid in gladness,
I freely loose, I freely bind.
I wrought the hell, I wrought the heaven,
And ready at my nod
Compelled by faith's creative leaven,
Emerges man or God.
| Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold | |