Giant Hours With Poet Preachers

of the li

been, how dum

n brook to

ing out o

rushing f

'Christ has

rcy and the Widow

the sou

of the li

me up on Br

glittering o

ch pass and

rcy and the Widow

adicated, so he makes Saul Kane change his environment entirely. He goes to th

drive the

living man

rcy and the Widow

from Christ

hrist was ther

as standing t

had taught m

ld plow and

Christ woul

rove the c

be plowing

-harrow and

y bad life's

rcy and the Widow

expression of faith that the soul is immortal, and finally that upheaval which we call conversion with all of its incident steps from conviction of sin to repentance; and then to the consciousness of forgiveness; to the lighted mind and the lighted soul; and then to the uprooting of evil

I

VICE, POET

selections appearing i

taken from the followin

Cross Man, published

ing Stone, published b

rk

S; OF WHITE SNOWS AND WHITE LIVES;

"Ah, the sermon was fine, but those lines that you quoted-they were tremendous; they gripped me!" And those lines were from Robert Service, the poet of

that gripped t

n some mighty

-full of hus

the big hus

and gold, a

set the pearly

tumbled out

ht that I sure

o' the world

ll of t

ion: ROBER

im and near to him. He knew it all as intimately as a child knows his ow

r-no sweet

ny woods a

ng aleap i

n asleep o

fe that never

here the ca

the freshness

I'm stuck

ll of t

iful the valleys; subdued to love of God through the height and the might of all that he sees, with a vigor that s

wind of the West, w

r topmost limbs, that

was the first to come

ast t

give answer; shall w

ever, wards of t

illness, lords of t

ll of t

and these lone sentinel

s throng out

ing of the

of the Mig

om his fi

a soul is a pa

n the wond

e camp-fire

my blank

e peace of th

oll of the Lo

and the wav

is singing

ll of t

hing query, "Have you known the great White Silence, not a snow-gemmed twig aquiver? (Eternal truths which s

starved, and trium

sped at

in the bignes

r the doing, letting b

e nice veneer

ll of t

"silent men who do things!"-the kind that the w

e true things, the sil

ll of t

AND

cruel northland as no other can see it. The hollowness of material things he learns from this land of yellow gold, the very so

and it's haunti

ng me on

the gold th

just findin

big, broad lan

sts where sil

y that thrills

ess that fills

ll of t

other

e gold, and

and mucked l

e or scurvy-

y youth in

he gold, a

th a fortun

ife's not wha

w the gold

ll of t

hurl our youths, aye, our lives into the grave learning that, and o

take in your

ou have g

hurtles its way into your soul

like some ki

ou from foe

been since t

t will be

ll of t

ice is right! Sin lure

n, as John Masefield sh

modern word of the str

e same thing in

AND

rails untrod" in "The Heart of the Sourdough." He does not leave God out. Nor do these rough men of the avalanches, the frozen river

, or soon or late, as

ng

it's the golden lure,

ess t

d of the trails unt

rt-str

ll of t

Land of Beyond," the he

ere is always

are true to

seek, a be

that never

r soul that m

that irks

e will, unatt

our Land

f a Roll

se he is face to face with it all the time, at every turn of a ri

T T

ome night the

old, gre

name with

twill be

is speedin

itaphic

is but a l

he heart

gain, a li

lest you

lame, a li

leam on

f a Roll

itanical rules of conduct that they do, expressed in Service's "The Woman and the Angel," that story of the Angel who came down t

ed his scruples, and s

n among men, speak with

ld standards; we have

h

Puritanic traditions

d for His angel, and c

i

s wondrous, and O,

ang the devil, and thi

o

, Puritanic tradition

ll of t

warning not to give up "The ancient, outwor

F A RED

a consciousness of the

lare. Here, like the ha

rder and more dangerous

six last lines

he glory of fai

ry of love

ere's never a

ss to mar

know that he

t great Ga

f a Red

"Lark" sings, as Service reminds us in his p

of song! do

e making e

that you

is joy and

e wings! Ah

nto that b

pant in war

g eyes, see

f a Red

run from a study of white peaks and white lives, to high peaks and high hopes, through sin and death to heaven and the Father himself, I quote

my contract, wrough

hou judge me, but by

bidding, and the lig

hift is over-Master,

ion: RUPER

RT B

selections from the wr

ter are used by permis

Rupert Brooke, publishe

Yo

DSHIP, LOVE, COUN

of Rupert Brooke, a victim of the Hun as well as that other giant of art, the Rhei

's

ot und

nly

he turn

ved hi

eyes a sudden

azzled by a

e was

he slums, the slag heaps, the factories, the coal mines, and hidden common ways of folks who toil; thanks that you have also beautifully lighted up the "En

foreign soil, far from the England that you loved and voiced so wondrously. And now these lines

die, think on

ome corner of

er England. T

arth a richer

land bore, shap

flowers to love,

's breathing, bre

ivers, blest by

d Poems of R

fe, take your place along with Byron, and Shelley, and our own Seeger-a quartette of immortals, whose voices were heard, but, like the horns of Elfland, "faintly blowing" when they were hu

EL OF FR

that Brooke preached is seen the gospel of

ompanionsh

faith unbr

diant and i

d and glad th

comrades

eaven may la

d Poems of R

ia," he voices in an even more striking quatrain the immortality of friendship. What a thrill of hope runs through us here as we, w

ne night, on s

ngue I ne

hear the t

at were frie

d Poems of R

SPEL O

s a beacon night and day; a beacon of which he was not ashamed. He set the fires of romantic love burning and when he went away he left them burning so that their light might l

is needful, and

the goal and the

the night shall

nother if your l

ed Poems of

s the two English poets, but they are alike in that each agreed that Love should not be weak, whatever it was. Brooke sang of romantic love, high and holy as th

-we have beaconed

have built it

have taught the

d Poems of R

n that same

ubt but, somewhe

s left of love

s, now str

d Poems of R

F LOVE FOR O

At least the truly great Lovers have the capacity for love of all these types. I have found no expression of paternal love in Brooke, for he had not come to that great experience of life before Death claimed him. And because Death robbed him of that experience Death robbed us of a rare interpretation of that special type of Love. But of all these ot

is heart, all

he eternal m

ack the thoughts

sounds; dreams

arnt of friends;

ace, under an E

d Poems of R

mes! What a voice for A

ght arise to sing

EL OF

expressed the hopelessness of the heathen gods in a poem which he called "On the Death of Smet-Smet,

nd huge and hideous

d lewd?-but a God;

den and dumb, but at n

ad

Her Her will in the da

eople

ent us

owed bef

miled

e us ad

laced

hed our

at sha

d is d

d Poems of R

to sneer and scorn until we are able to give them better. These poor Egyptians knew no other God. They said plaintively "but a God; we have none other"; and "And what shall we do now God is dying?" The crime of destroying faith in a lesser god until one has seen and can make seeable the real God is t

h, then, yo

o think that

like, or th

o, perchan

ifferent dre

ed Sin to him

d Poems of A

known gods"; worshipped the best they knew, although it were a feeble worship. He

as so

th is s

led us

me is

laced

hed our

at sha

d is d

d Poems of R

PEL OF

nd, the one God. He mentions this God that he found more than any other one thing about which he wrote, so far as I can find. In o

T

long desiro

e sick of fru

g after l

onward! a

dreams of

ou givest,

thing-to

lain, beyo

ng through

silence

me hidden t

black and mu

r, wonderf

Forests of

d Poems of R

from "Am

and half-way

and hill

l keep bef

Ambar

d Poems of R

rtality, the God of the "Everlasting Arms," is voiced in

nly, and o

n your mag

tillness an

gust, immor

range; and

jest and tho

the mask of

ant in

, immo

d Poems of R

ing and great faith, the young poet cried a new glor

ed Who has matched

outh and wakened

re, clear eye, an

mmers into clea

d Poems of R

only of England, but of America has leaped to "God's Hour," as Brooke calls this war; leaped from play, and from listlessness in spiritual things; leaped

Brooke, who himself paid the great debt of love. It comes out of

happy in the h

found our h

ark tides of the

ord, 'Who is s

afety with all t

d Poems of R

ge to mourning mother and father in America. As they listen they hear the voices of those they loved crying: "Who is so safe as we? We have found safety with all things undying." Thank God that this

acked before; h

multuous bod

ave laid our gr

onger blinded

d Poems of R