THE MAGIC PURSE

What is the gold of mortal-kind

To that men find

Deep in the poet's mind!—

That magic purse

Of Dreams from which

God builds His universe!

That makes life rich

With many a vision;

Taking the soul from out its prison

Of facts with the precision

A wildflower dons

When Spring comes knocking at the door

Of Earth across the windy lawns;

Calling to Joy to rise and dance before

Her happy feet:

Or with the beat

And bright exactness of a star,

Hanging its punctual point afar,

When Night comes tripping over Heaven's floor,

Leaving a gate ajar.

That leads the Heart from all its aching

Far above where day is breaking;

Out of the doubts, the agonies,

The strife and sin, to join with these —

Hope and Beauty and Joy that build

Their golden walls

Of sunset where, with spirits filled,

A Presence calls,

And points a land

Where Love walks, silent; hand in hand

With the Spirit of God, and leads Man right

Out of the darkness into the light.