Finger-Posts
By Eva Gore-Booth
I
This is the way of Heaven : you may kneel
And beat your breast for hours in futile prayer;
No faint light flickers on the golden stair,
No spirit hearkens to your soul’s appeal ;
No hand draws back the curtains that conceal
The land of shadows men imagine fair ;
And the beloved shade who wanders there
Invisible, no magic may reveal.
Men talk of all the strength of love and faith—
Vain words! and false it is as idle boast
To dream you hold communion with a ghost.
And bring to earth again a vanished wraith.
No shadow answers to a shadow’s call—
This is the way of all things spiritual.
II
This is the way of Nature : as of old
When from the primal darkness first there grew
Flowers, and the sun shone and the sky was blue,
And
By Eva Gore-Booth
I
This is the way of Heaven : you may kneel
And beat your breast for hours in futile prayer;
No faint light flickers on the golden stair,
No spirit hearkens to your soul’s appeal ;
No hand draws back the curtains that conceal
The land of shadows men imagine fair ;
And the beloved shade who wanders there
Invisible, no magic may reveal.
Men talk of all the strength of love and faith—
Vain words! and false it is as idle boast
To dream you hold communion with a ghost.
And bring to earth again a vanished wraith.
No shadow answers to a shadow’s call—
This is the way of all things spiritual.
II
This is the way of Nature : as of old
When from the primal darkness first there grew
Flowers, and the sun shone and the sky was blue,
And