THE SUBALTERNS

“Poor wanderer,” said the leaden sky,

“I fain would lighten thee,

But there be laws in force on high

Which say it must not be.”

- “I would not freeze thee, shorn one,” cried

The North, “knew I but how

To warm my breath, to slack my stride;

But I am ruled as thou.”

- “To-morrow I attack thee, wight,”

Said Sickness. “Yet I swear

I bear thy little ark no spite,

But am bid enter there.”

- “Come hither, Son,” I heard Death say;

“I did not will a grave

Should end thy pilgrimage to-day,

But I, too, am a slave!”

We smiled upon each other then,

And life to me wore less

That fell contour it wore ere when

They owned their passiveness.