"This light should be beloved by all the town."

At last they made the slope a place of prayer,

Where marvellous thoughts from God came sweeping down.

They left their churches crumbling in the sun,

They met on that soft hill, one brotherhood;

One strength and valor only, one delight,

One laughing, brooding genius, great and good.

Now many gray-haired prodigals come home,

The place out-flames the cities of the land,

And twice-born Brahmans reach us from afar,

With subtle eyes prepared to understand.

Higher and higher burns the eastern steep,

Showing the roads that march from every place,

A steady beacon o'er the weary leagues,

At dead of night it lights the traveller's face!

Thus has the widow conquered half the earth,

She who increased in faith, though all alone,

Who kept her empty house a magic place,

Has made the town a holy angel's throne.

The Soul of the City Receives the Gift of the Holy Spirit

A Broadside distributed in Springfield, Illinois

Censers are swinging

Over the town;

Censers are swinging,

Look overhead!

Censers are swinging,

Heaven comes down.

City, dead city,

Awake from the dead!

Censers, tremendous,

Gleam overhead.

Wind-harps are ringing,

Wind-harps unseen --

Calling and calling: --

"Wake from the dead.

Rise, little city,

Shine like a queen."

Soldiers of Christ

For battle grow keen.

Heaven-sent winds

Haunt alley and lane.

Singing of life

In town-meadows green

After the toil

And battle and pain.

Incense is pouring

Like the spring rain

Down on the mob

That moil through the street.

Blessed are they

Who behold it and gain

Power made more mighty

Thro' every defeat.

Builders, toil on.

Make all complete.

Make Springfield wonderful.

Make her renown

Worthy this day,

Till, at God's feet,

Tranced, saved forever,

Waits the white town.

Censers are swinging

Over the town,

Censers gigantic!

Look overhead!

Hear the winds singing: --

"Heaven comes down.

City, dead city,

Awake from the dead."

By the Spring, at Sunset

Sometimes we remember kisses,

Remember the dear heart-leap when they came:

Not always, but sometimes we remember

The kindness, the dumbness, the good flame

Of laughter and farewell.

Beside the road

Afar from those who said "Good-by" I write,

Far from my city task, my lawful load.

Sun in my face, wind beside my shoulder,

Streaming clouds, banners of new-born night

Enchant me now. The splendors growing bolder

Make bold my soul for some new wise delight.

I write the day's event, and quench my drouth,

Pausing beside the spring with happy mind.

And now I feel those kisses on my mouth,

Hers most of all, one little friend most kind.

I Went down into the Desert

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