_Literary Monthly_, 1910.
THE HIDDEN FACE
BERNARD WESTERMANN '08
The moon hath a hidden face and fair,--
Never we gaze on its features calm;
She gazeth afar on the star-lit air,
On star-lighted regions whose breath is balm;
But never, ah never, her glance doth show
To the world of men in the deeps below.
O love, do you know that there dwells in thee
A hiddenest spirit that dreams alway,
And never the world can her features see,
Of the spirit that shunneth the earthly day?
Only I know that she lives, to rise
Some day, some night, in your love-lit eyes.
_Literary Monthly_, 1906.
MODERN THOUGHT AND MEDIEVAL DOGMA
SONNET
BERNARD WESTERMANN '08
Are we but truants from a parent stern--
Whose strait commands with fear we long obeyed,
Till, gladdened by the sunlight, far we strayed,
And lingered by the woodside and the byrne,
The bird's sweet passion at the sun's return,
The flower's grieving at his sight delayed,
With wistful, long-pent love, to watch and learn,
Till evening come, and we turn home dismayed?
Or have we grown unto our fuller seeing,
The manhood of our days, when evermore
Our Father speaks and, punishment decreeing,
Is high and silent from his sapphire door?
Forever past, the childhood of our being:
He stoops to reason who but spake before.
Pages:
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174