THE COMRADE

HATH not man at his noblest

An air of something more than man?—

A hint of grace immortal,

Born of his greatly daring to assist the gods

In conquering these shaggy wastes,

These desert worlds,

And planting life and order in these stars?—

So Woman at her best:

Her eyes are bright with visions and with dreams

That triumph over time;

Her plumed thought, wing for wing, is mate with his.