Poem November 3, 1934 Issue

The Call

WILLIAM S. H. ROBINSON

I heard a great cry that went up toward heaven,
As if from human hearts by bitter pain
And ill-rewarded toil and grief oppressed.
Awhile in pitying thought, I, listening, stood;
Then came a voice that said: This cry has come
Into thine ears, because to answer is
For thee. Now therefore go, for if to thee
Is given the light of truth, more clear than theirs,
Give thou to them, and thou shalt have reward.
And yet I feared to go, lest I might lack

The power to persuade.
Before me rose
A mountain vast and high, in majesty
And strength immovable. I looked thereon
And said: If knowledge of the truth I had
Like unto this sublime and stately pile,
Then would I go, and they would hear.

Near by
The mountain's foot there wound a flowing stream
Of water pure. I said: If I but knew
Truth like that stream, then would I make it flow
Out unto them that cry, and they should drink,
And thirst no more; in it should wash, and be
Forever pure.

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