The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1900-04-22
By the Same Token.

Minerva and the painter stood together on the
And twas April in the land;
Upon the little rosy hills the shining air was
The river sang and rippled at the singing winds
command.
And the dome of space was tender. but its
silences were grand
And the parting at hand.
The painter loved Minerva, but the sway of Art
is strong
More than music. more than song:
And the thralI of curve and color clings forever
and for long;
Who shares the reign of either sees regret and
suffers wrong;
Said the painter TO Minerva, ITO Arts soul and
to lfes thrOng
I can never well belong"
Said Minerva to the painter. with her white soul
looking through
ct am /, and you are you;
But love that's worth its pain is an Identity OF
two;
And the Throngs the Unit Visible of Soul. the
hidden True;
If love reveal not this at least, twere only love
to rue;
Let us part pray-adieu!
They parted. "stayr' the painter cried. 81
claim one day for mine;
After that-come storm, come shine!
Well tread the budding forest through in COM
radeship divine
Before the hour shall strike for Us to sacrifice,
resign
Then hand in hand upon the strand they stood
at Natures shrine,
And the world seemed fair and fine.
Ger the drowsy river-king,
The bright, imperial arabesques of blossom.
bud and wing
The blur of solemn distances that make the eye
lids sting.
And vast, mysterious glimpses of the God Of
everything,
Through the melody of spring.
They breathed the subtle air where life's insur-
gent pulses beat.
And the marching years repeat
Earth's salient, strong. simplcites forever;
where the sweet.
Unsinning woodland creatures find a refuge and
retreat.
And the water-elms and willows. bending low to
guard and greet,
Hide the dancing of their feet.
So down the dazzling morning all alone they
sang and strayed,
Till the vivid shine and shade
Across the path of yellow noon their dial-fngers
laid;
But when the winds went whispering through
the hollows and the glade.
And high the blue bowl of the sky began to
flush and fade,
They faltered and delayed.
Minerva" said the painter. with his hand
upon his breast
II have here a strange unrest,
AS If the golden Cosmic East, outfowing to the
West,
Went flowing through my human heart upon it's
endless quest;
AS If the tides of strenuous seas, in worlds I'M
known. unguessed.
Had upon my bosom pressed"
Minerva, oh Minerva! and the music of the
tide
Is of human pain and pride;
But the call Of mighty deep to deep, across tn
abysses wide.
Is the call of the creation-of the Spirit to the
Bridet'
Her lips were curved to silence, but her steady
eyes replied
With the love they scorned to hide
But flaming on their vision. some inevitable
OF benign, satric Fate
Revealed the ancient promise of the soul in
For him. the gorgeous passion of an Art in
violate,
For her, Gods great Identity--the Virginia.
Adequate.
And for both, a long too late"
Then through the perilous pause there fell a
thrush's ravished cry
Fate and future defy"'-
Cried the painter to Minerva. And she yielded
with sigh
Oh. the little clouds blew over in the azure Of
the sky
I'VE one, beloved, forever, while we live
and when die
am you, and you are To
Minerva and the painter stood together hand
in hand,
While the south wind loved the land
AS the wild recurring raptures of the budding
world demand,
And beneath the trailing willow-boughs the
water wooed the sand;
tn Eternal Laws were silent, but their sences
were grand
Love and springtime they demand.
Sheffield, Mo. Olive Sanxay.