In deserts of the world I’d rather be

Than I the courts of kings a foolish thrall

To vain ambitions or moneyed servitude!

Free, I’d live with honest contemplation

Though poor for that accounting among men

To scan the awesome work above, bright heavens

Fixed and revolving orbs set in their glory-

Arrayed expanse and grand infinitude.

Wondrous mirror, image of the heart

So deep that breathes the life and endless age

Of generation, countless among men!

Now overflow your light and influence

The way of sojourn souls, quick innervate

With living water all this ashen self

And renew with greater hope than one life holds

To saturate with life and numberless

Lives of men. So would we ever reap

The holy writ by them set down;

As they in us could live, none should die

But as the heavens we’d continue on

With light profuse, as upon each other flown

Though for a thousand years our fixed orbs retired!

Durand von Meissen

(59)

Together then we’d prove the godliness

Which, for integrity, cannot waver

Or be shook off the rock of unity-

Each found in each by truths’ of soul sublime

Supernal, resplendent, on wings of grace

Forever coursing our most noble aims

Of faith and loveliness, proving the cause

And seal by which we’re sealed, image of God.

So never more we seek to outward strive

For proof of worth, true worth best justified

In what transcends the part, no bit denied

Of universal good and common chords

Which year to year, age to age, remain the same!

Here is the hope, which, lodestone of the wise

Can hold steadfast the will in sympathy

With lives of men, though by death over-shroud…

The equity of heart for our humanity

That frees the soul to broad consideration

Smashing all dogmatic claims of power

With honest understanding. Here mercy sits

As guard over the heart to weigh all thoughts

That from the cynic soul might issue forth

Durand von Meissen

(60)

And, in condemning, wreck our common good…

So deep is hell and worthless is the theme

Of selfish ways in proud experience.

Such wretched pride would ever delegate

Our worth, and in the delegation ruin our lives

For peace, resigning each as slaves to chance, disjoined

From central cares that keep the hearth of life.

But equity shall own the ways of each

Lest by vain pride assuredness be weighed

Unequal worth, to sanctioned cliques imputed.

Such preference would tip the scale for war

And war cut short in wrath our ancient climb.

Wretched thought, dastard ignobility

That lifts a self-conception over others-

Our brothers, sisters, friends, remaining self

Which met could bring to whole our fractured lives!

But let one live in each and each in all

Then would we meet alike in constancy

And, with respectful patience, comprehend

The fateful chords that make for our sojourn.

Once found in each, each other’s best admired

Our hearts would grow in love’s sweet communion

Durand von Meissen

(61)

And mercy, our best fruit, would rise to fill

Each yearning soul, our friends their burdens eased

Which sensed in loneliness, the wastes of pain

Is guided home at last with kindliness.

Doubtless, none is worthy without love

Which, ever proving, seeks to mitigate

The toil of ours so snared with cruel fates

That desperately we fall from out the light

Unwitting to be pierced with seething pain

Of spite, the bitter herb of discontent.

Yet, there’s none blameless in love’s law which spoke-

Love others as you love yourself

For all men, as is common to be known

Seek first their private fare and, if well done

Perchance may cast a glance toward others’ need.

Of all work then, such as must be done

None’s more worthy of praise as this one is

Who sets aside the judgment that demands

For brutal blows, more blows returned in measure

Of recompense, but seeks still to reconcile

The complex wrong, by men construed; takes two

Durand von Meissen

(62)

For what is called offense, yet not one care

To be avenged, only that peace, life’s Eden once

Might soon return. Love’s loss of part is bane.

But should be lost this simple fact of grace

Where equity of heart yields every hope

To lift into the peace of natal care…

Then quake! Comes every strife and civil war!

Such wickedness abides with greedy thoughts

That urge despite and beastly remonstrance

When rather due, in truth, is to forgive.

But throwing off conceit, we now shall live

No more self-proud in cruel estimations

But fix in heart the welfare of our whole

And prove the power of consanguinity

Whose grace so freely from one root is trained

With generosity, no justice won

By privilege or the pacts of honored cast…

Then owning every potent jot for good

Our hearts sure hold, no respect at all

For cliques of power, in preference, justified

We’ll prove our best, which, ever true below

With perfect sympathy, has born us all

Durand von Meissen

(63)

Except those proud hypocrites who style themselves

Elect among us, righteous laws of God

Whose spiteful ranks have ever mocked the heart

With judgment, though the ways of truth have sought

No condemnation, ‘clean/unclean’, but in love

Worked every mercy, ever fit for all

Confirming peace at last, our lives conjoined!

Durand von Meissen

(64)

Though in a public place arise

Faint words on wisdom’s wind

The work must not be compromised

Or then is stilled the healing breath