BY SAM LAW.

All grim and soiled and brown with tan,
I saw a strong one in his wrath

Smiting the godless shrines of man
Along his path.

I looked: aside the dust cloud rolled—
The Master seemed the Builder too;

Upspringing from the ruined Old
I saw the New.

Through prison walls, like heaven-sent hope,
Fresh breezes blew and sunbeams strayed,

And with the idle gallows rope
The young child played.

Where the doomed victim in his cell
Had counted o'er the weary hours

Glad school girls, answering to the bell,
Came crowned with flowers.