Kansas University Weekly.
297
Each in His Own Tongue. BY WILLIAM HERBERT CARRUTH.
A fire-mist and a planet,—
A crystal and a cell,—
A jelly-fish and a saurian, And caves where the cave-men dwell;
Then a sense of law and beauty And a face turned from the clod,
Some call it Evolution,
And others call it God.
A haze on the far horizo
The infinite, tender sky,— The ripe rich tint of the corn-fields,
And the wild geese sailing high,— And all over upland and lowland
The charm of the golden-rod, Some of us call it Nature,
And others call it God.
Like tides on a crescent
When the moon is new and thin, Into our hearts high yearnings
Come welling and surging in, Come from the mystic ocean,
Whose rim no foot has trod, Some of us call it Longing,
And others call it God. A picket frozen on du'
A mother starved for her brood, Socrates drinking the hemlock,
And Jesus on the rood;
And millions who, humble and nameless,
The straight, hard pathway trod, Some call it Consecration,
And others call it God. [New England Magazine Nov. '95.]