POETRY
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ometimes I tremble like a storm-swept flower,And seek to hide my tortured soul from thee.Bowing my head in deep humilityBefore the silent thunder of thy power.Sometimes I flee before thy blazing light,As from the specter of pursuing death;Intimidated lest thy mighty breath,Windways, will sweep me into utter night.For oh, I fear they will be swallowed up--The loves which are to me of vital worth,My passion and my pleasure in the earth--And lost forever in thy magic cup!I fear, I fear my truly human heartWill perish on the altar-stone of art!
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