THE CENTURY OF LIFE
THE STRENGTH OF SIMPLE GOODNESS
Toiler ascetic, who with passionate breath Swellest huge holinesses,—vain thy faith!
Good act adore, the simple goddess plain,
Who gives the fruit thou seekest with such pain. Her touch can turn the lewd man into a saint, Inimitably her quiet magic lent
Change fools to sages and hidden mysteries show Beyond eye’s reach or brain’s attempt to know, Fierce enemies become friends and poisons ill Transform in a moment to nectar at her will.
FORESIGHT AND VIOLENCE
Good be the act or faulty, its result The wise man painfully forecasting first Then does; who in mere heedless force exult, Passionate and violent, taste a fruit accursed. The Fury keeps till death her baleful course And blights their life, tormenting with remorse.
MISUSE OF LIFE
This noble earth, this place for glorious deeds The ill-starred man who reaching nowise heeds, Nor turns his soul to energy austere,
With little things content or idlesse drear,— He is like one who gets an emerald pot
To bake him oil-cakes on a fire made hot With scented woods, or who with golden share For sorry birthwort ploughs a fertile fair
Sweet soil, or cuts rich camphor piece by piece To make a hedge for fennel. Not for this
In the high human form he walks great earth
After much labour getting goodliest birth.
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