The Subalterns

I

“POOR wanderer,” said the leaden sky, “I fain would lighten thee, But there be laws in force on high Which say it must not be.”

II

—“I would not freeze thee, shorn one,” cried The North, “knew I but how To warm my breath, to slack my stride; But I am ruled as thou.”

III

—“To-morrow I attack thee, wight,” Said Sickness. “Yet I swear I bear thy little ark no spite, But am bid enter there.”

IV

—“Come hither, Son,” I heard Death say; “I did not will a grave Should end thy pilgrimage to-day, But I, too, am a slave!”

V

We smiled upon each other then, And life to me wore less That fell contour it wore ere when They owned their passiveness.