Know by the calm her lips disclose,
  By the fine shades and faery lustre of her eyes,
  The damsel is the queen of those
  Whose names are written Beatrice in Paradise.

  While yon still towers in sunset lie,
  Her face oblivious of all else I’ll ponder long. 
  My body thrills with ecstasy! 
  My heart beats with the rhythmic pulsing of the song!

Literary Monthly, 1906.

THE MANY ROADS

HORACE HOLLEY ex-’10

  The north road, the south road,
  Highway, byway,
  There never was a road men trod
  That did not lead them home.

  The east road, the west road,
  Your way, my way,
  Men’s tangled footprints end in God,
  Through Arcady or Rome.

Literary Monthly, 1907.

BEAUTY

HORACE HOLLEY ex-’10

  Her beauty lies upon her face
  As sunlight masks the barren sea;
  A fitful, accidental grace
  Which time shall ruin utterly.

  Not like the Beauty all divine
  (The “house of God,” the poet saith),
  Which is the craftsman-soul’s design,
  Its majesty supreme in death.

Literary Monthly, 1908.

PREFERMENT AND THE FOOL

HORACE HOLLEY ex-’10

The Fool was sitting by his half-built sod house.  This was the season of building, for the sun shone; and moreover presently would come the bitter unending rain of winter, when it were better to be abiding safely at home.  Nevertheless the Fool sat happily idle, for he never could get enough of the sunshine, though he rose with the sun in the morning and wistfully watched it set at night.  Now he was twirling a dandelion between thumb and finger, and gazing out across the valley to the running hills of the north country.  It so happened that the Fool’s house was on a cross-road, and presently, as he was a-sitting at his ease, along came the King of that land, with a great cavalcade of soldiers and retainers.  And because on their brazen shields and helmets the sun was reflected more brightly than from yonder peak, the Fool turned to gaze at them as they wound past.  In sooth, had it not been for that, he would never have given them a glance at all, not having much curiosity about the things other people love to gape at.

Beside the King rode the King’s Favorite, a very goodly man, one who was closest of all to the King’s ear and heart.  Plainly enough could the Fool see, even though he was only dreamily a-looking, a bright golden figure seated upon the saddle with the King’s Favorite.  This, as all men know, was Preferment, and a sudden wistful longing seized upon the Fool’s heart, that he had never known the like of since the time he had cried for the moon.  His jaw dropped, and his eyes grew misty.  In a little while the troop was by, gone around the hill, but the Fool could not forget them, and many new desires tugged at his heart.