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The Call
If we lose we also gain, for life is chance, and chances blend-
Are you coming to the valley? Answer thro' the darkness, friend.
I am standing in the valley; slumber takes your golden head,
But mv spirit flies to stir you in the whiteness of your bed-
In that garden where are clustered in the keeping of the south
All the lilies of your bosom, and the rosebud of your mouth.
Don't you hear me calling, comrade, don't you hear me calling sweet,
For the fragrance of your coming and the freedom of your feet?
O, my love is for your loving, and my help is for your hand—
Don't you hear me calling, comrade? Will you never understand?
