THE CENTURY OF LIFE
THE CONQUEROR
That man whose soul bright beauty cannot pierce With love’s sweet burning javelins from her eyes,
Nor sorrow torture his heart, nor passions fierce Miserably over his senses tyrannizc,
Conquers the world by his high-scated will,
The man well-balanced, noble, wise and still.
THE HERO’S TOUCH
‘Touched by one hero’s tread how vibrating
Earth starts as if sun-visited, ablaze,
Vast, wonderful, young! Man’s colourless petty days Bloom suddenly and seem a grandiose thing.
THE POWER OF GOODNESS
The bloom of natural goodness like a flower
Is Nature’s darling, all her creatures prize, And on whose body’s stock its fragrant power
Blossoms, all fiercest things can humanise. For him red fire becomes like water pale and cool, For him heaven-threatening Ocean sinks into a pool Of quiet azure; for him the lion’s heart
Tames its dire hungers to be like the hind’s, And the fell snake unsoothed by music’s art
Upon his brows in floral wreaths he binds. Poisons for him to nectar change; impassable hills
Droop, gentle slopes; strong blessings grow from ruthless ills.
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