LADDIE
Lowly the soul that waits
At the white, celestial gates,
A threshold soul to greet
Beloved feet.
Down the streets that are beams of sun
Cherubim children run;
They welcome it from the wall;
Their voices call.
But the Warder saith: "Nay, this
Is the City of Holy Bliss.
What claim canst thou make good
To angelhood?"
"Joy," answereth it from eyes
That are amber ecstasies,
Listening, alert, elate,
Before the gate.
Oh, how the frolic feet
On lonely memory beat!
What rapture in a run
'Twixt snow and sun!
"Nay, brother of the sod,
What part hast thou in God?
What spirit art thou of?"
It answers: "Love."
Lifting its head, no less
Cajoling a caress,
Our winsome collie wraith,
Than in glad faith.
The door will open wide,
Or kind voice bid: "Abide,
A threshold soul to greet
The longed-for feet."
Ah, Keeper of the Portal,
If Love be not immortal,
If Joy be not divine,
What prayer is mine?
KATHERINE LEE BATES.
A DOG'S EPITAPH
When some proud son of man returns to earth,
Unknown to glory, but upheld by birth,
The sculptor's art exhausts the pomp of wo,
And storied urns record who rests below;
When all is done, upon the tomb is seen
Not what he was, but what he should have been,
But the poor dog, in life the firmest friend,
The first to welcome, foremost to defend,
Whose honest heart is still his master's own,
Who labors, fights, lives, breathes for him alone,
Unhonored falls, unnoticed all his worth,
Denied in Heaven the soul he held in earth;
While man, vain insect! hopes to be forgiven,
And claims himself a sole, exclusive Heaven.
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