Classic Poem

( SANTA BARBARA .)

B ESIDE the Mission wall the highway runs;
The horsemen gaily pass it every day,
And children stop beneath its shade to play —
Brown faced from tropic suns.

And just beyond the shady sycamore
There is a sudden angle in the wall,
With pediment, and cross to crown it all,
Above a fast-closed door.

Without — the stir of life, within — the gloom
Of solemn cypress, with its sombre green,
And tender weeping willows can be seen,
That grow above the tomb.

The wall is high and strong; the gate closed fast;
The masonry shows white against the moss;
And over all still stands the stone carved cross,
To tell us of the past.

Thou fast closed gate of death — or of new life,
We knock in vain; immovable thou art;
In vain the clamor of a breaking heart,
In vain our eager strife.

But for each one sometime thy fast closed door
Will open softly; all shall see that day;
Beneath thy cross-crowned arch, there lies the way
To life forevermore.