Martin
D . Armstrong .
The living
timber, and
the night wore
on ,
But
still my
strength
increased
as each
great
tree
Fell
prone ; and
to
the next with
quenchless
glee
I
turned .
Therefore I
vanquished
one
by
one
The hearts that centuries
could
not decay.
Night-long
I
toiled , but when
the
East
grew
fawn
I
ceased , and
there
amid
the waste
at dawn
Rested, like God
upon
the
seventh
day .
Then , shouldering
the
shining
axe , I
strode
Across
the
sunrise ; and
the
life-long
hate
Flowered
into
joy .
Scarce heard , his
iron
gate
Clanged - to
behind
me
as
I
took
the
road .
* FLAME .
O
NLY
the
fire
of
love
can
fuse and
burn
This
solid
world
to
spirit .
But we two
Have
caught
love back
by the
escaping
wing ,
Therefore
shall
life
be perfect,
for
our
eyes
Are
opened
and
our
stooping
souls
stand
up
Full
-
statured
under
the roofless heaven
of
love
.