AT THE TOP OF THE ROAD.

AT THE TOP OF THE ROAD.
255.7

“But, lord,” she said, “my shoulders still are strong- I have been used to bear the load so long;

“And-see, the hill is passed, and smooth the road
“Yet,” said the stranger, “yield me now thy load.”

Gently he took it from her, and she stood
Straight limbed and lithe, in new found maldenhood.

Amid long, sunlit fields; around them sprang
A tender breeze, and birds and rivers saig.

“My lord,” she said, “the land is very fair!”
Smiling, he answered: “Was it not so there?”

“There?” In her voice a wondering ques- tion lay:
“Was I not always here, then, as today?”

He turned to her with strange, deep eyes aflame:
“Knowest thou not this kingdom, nor my name?”

“Nay,” she replied, “but this I under- stand-
That thou art Lord of Life in this dear land!”

“Yea, child.” he murmured, scarce above his breath:
“Lord of the Land; but men have named me Death.”
-Charles Buxton Going