As a Man Thinketh

JAMES NOBLE HATCH

Oh, I heard the ceaseless sighing of the winds of discontent,
Heard it when the day was dying, heard it ere the morn was spent;
From the broad plain and the mountain,
From the lowland and the sea,
The one sound was the same sound that was wafted back to me;
A sound beset with sadness from the realms of blighted dreams,
A plaintive song of a world all wrong, where hope no radiance gleams.

As I heard the dire complaining I complained in sympathy,
Lent my aid toward maintaining all the gross inharmony;
In the sunlight or the shadow,
In the hurry or the pause,
All the world seemed carried forward by the same discordant laws,—
Laws that brought forth thorns and thistles as the product of the soil,
Laws that brought defeat and chaos to reward all honest toil.

And it seemed that gloom beclouded every highway to success,
Till I cried out for deliverance, cried out in my dire distress,
Raised my eyes and searched for guidance,
Raised my voice and asked the way
That would lead out of the valley where the shadows deeply lay.
Suddenly faith's light triumphant shone through all the shades of doubt,
And the truth in bright effulgence shed its rays all round about.

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