From the Richmond Times Dispatch, July 18, 1915. By Henry van Dyke.
What is Fortune, what is Fame?
Futile gold and phantom name,
Riches buried in a cave,
Glory written on a grave.
What is Friendship? Something deep
That the heart can spend and keep:
Wealth that greatens while we give,
Praise that heartens us to live.
Come, my friend, and let us prove
Life’s true talisman is love!
By this charm we shall elude
Poverty and solitude.
From the Omaha Daily Bee, June 28, 1915. By Henry Van Dyke.
Across a thousand miles of sea, a hundred leagues of land,
Along a path I had not traced and could not understand,
I traveled fast for this—to take thee by the hand.
A pilgrim knowing not the shrine where he would bend his knee,
A mariner without a dream of what his port will be,
So faced I with a seeking heart until I came to thee.
O cooler than a grove of palm, in some heat-weary place,
O fairer than an isle of calm after the wild sea race,
The quiet room adorned with flowers where first I saw thy face.
Then furl the sail, let the oar, forget the paths of foam!
The fate that made me wander far at last has brought me home
To thee, dear haven of my heart, and I no more will roam.