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- Poems of Purpose - 5/12 -

What will the superwoman be, of whom we sing - She who is coming over the dim border Of Far To-morrow, after earth's disorder Is tidied up by Time? What will she bring To make life better on tempestuous earth? How will her worth Be greater than her forbears? What new power Within her being will burst into flower?

She will bring beauty, not the transient dower Of adolescence which departs with youth - But beauty based on knowledge of the truth Of its eternal message and the source Of all its potent force. Her outer being by the inner thought Shall into lasting loveliness be wrought.

She will bring virtue; but it will not be The pale, white blossom of cold chastity Which hides a barren heart. She will be human - Not saint or angel, but the superwoman - Mother and mate and friend of superman.

She will bring strength to aid the larger Plan, Wisdom and strength and sweetness all combined, Drawn from the Cosmic Mind - Wisdom to act, strength to attain, And sweetness that finds growth in joy or pain.

She will bring that large virtue, self-control, And cherish it as her supremest treasure. Not at the call of sense or for man's pleasure Will she invite from space an embryo soul, To live on earth again in mortal fashion, Unless love stirs her with divinest passion.

To motherhood she will bring common sense - That most uncommon virtue. She will give Love that is more than she-wolf violence (Which slaughters others that its own may live).

Love that will help each little tendril mind To grow and climb; Love that will know the lordliest use of Time In training human egos to be kind.

She will be formed to guide, but not to lead - Leaders are ever lonely--and her sphere Will be that of the comrade and the mate, Loved, loving, and with insight fine and clear, Which casts its searchlight on the course of fate, And to the leaders says, 'Proceed' or 'Wait.'

And best of all, she will bring holy faith To penetrate the shadowy world of death, And show the road beyond it, bright and broad, That leads straight up to God.


There was a time when I was confident That God's stupendous mystery of birth Was mine to know. The wonder of it lent New ecstasy and glory to the earth. I heard no voice that uttered it aloud, Nor was it written for me on a scroll; Yet, if alone or in the common crowd, I felt myself a consecrated soul. My child leaped in its dark and silent room And cried, 'I am,' though all unheard by men. So leaps my spirit in the body's gloom And cries, 'I live! I shall be born again.' Elate with certitude towards death I go, Nor doubt, nor argue, since I know, I know!


He was a failure, and one day he died. Across the border of the mapless land He found himself among a sad-eyed band Of disappointed souls; they, too, had tried And missed their purpose. With one voice they cried Unto the shining Angel in command: 'Oh, lead us not before our Lord to stand, For we are failures, failures! Let us hide.'

Yet on the Angel fared, until they stood Before the Master. (Even His holy place The hideous noises of the earth assailed.) Christ reached His arms out to the trembling brood, With God's vast sorrow in His listening face. Come unto Me,' He said; 'I, too, have failed.'


Dreaming of love, the ardent mind of youth Conceives it one with passion's brief delights, With keen desire and rapture. But, in truth, These are but milestones to sublime heights After the highways, swept by strong emotions, Where wild winds blow and blazing sun rays beat, After the billows of tempestuous oceans, Fair mountain summits wait the lover's feet.

The path is narrow, but the view is wide, And beauteous the outlook towards the west Happy are they who walk there side by side, Leaving below the valleys of unrest, And on the radiant altitudes above Know the serene intensity of love.


Three Souls there were that reached the Heavenly Gate, And gained permission of the Guard to wait. Barred from the bliss of Paradise by sin, They did not ask or hope to enter in. 'We loved one woman (thus their story ran); We lost her, for she chose another man. So great our love, it brought us to this door; We only ask to see her face once more. Then will we go to realms where we belong, And pay our penalty for doing wrong.'

'And wert thou friends on earth?' (The Guard spake thus.) 'Nay, we were foes; but Death made friends of us. The dominating thought within each Soul Brought us together, comrades, to this goal, To see her face, and in its radiance bask For one great moment--that is all we ask. And, having seen her, we must journey back The path we came--a hard and dangerous track.' 'Wait, then,' the Angel said, 'beside me here, But do not strive within God's Gate to peer Nor converse hold with Spirits clothed in light Who pass this way; thou hast not earned the right.'

They waited year on year. Then, like a flame, News of the woman's death from earth-land came. The eager lovers scanned with hungry eyes Each Soul that passed the Gates of Paradise. The well-beloved face in vain they sought, Until one day the Guardian Angel brought A message to them. 'She has gone,' he said, 'Down to the lower regions of the dead; Her chosen mate went first; so great her love She has resigned the joys that wait above To dwell with him, until perchance some day, Absolved from sin, he seeks the Better Way.'

Silent, the lovers turned. The pitying Guard Said: 'Stay (the while his hand the door unbarred), There waits for thee no darker grief or woe; Enter the Gates, and all God's glories know. But to be ready for so great a bliss, Pause for a moment and take heed of this: The dearest treasure by each mortal lost Lies yonder, when the Threshold has been crossed, And thou shalt find within that Sacred Place The shining wonder of her worshipped face. All that is past is but a troubled dream; Go forward now and claim the Fact Supreme.'

Then clothed like Angels, fitting their estate, Three Souls went singing, singing through God's Gate.


When love is lost, the day sets towards the night, Albeit the morning sun may still be bright, And not one cloud-ship sails across the sky. Yet from the places where it used to lie Gone is the lustrous glory of the light.

No splendour rests in any mountain height, No scene spreads fair and beauteous to the sight; All, all seems dull and dreary to the eye When love is lost.

Love lends to life its grandeur and its might;

Poems of Purpose - 5/12

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