Why Should the Spirit Be Vain?
O tell me why the spirit should be vain!
There are no fashions in the city of the dead,
There, of each other, no harsh words are ever said;
There are no jewels, and there is no greed of gold,
The poor lies by the rich, the infant by the old,
And all are resting free from care and pain.
O tell me why the spirit should be proud!
There are no honors in the city of the dead,
The earth lies just as softly o’er the pauper’s head
As o’er the heads of kings, and birds sing low and sweet,
The one well as the other lying there to greet—
One in his silk, one in his cotton, shroud.
O tell me why the spirit should be cold!
There are no passions in the city of the dead,
Too late to kiss with tenderness those lips to red;
And though you ask forgiveness o’er that grave with tears,
It will not make the dead forget those unloved years,—
It is too late for love beneath the mold.
O be not vain, and be not proud or cold!
The world will not be sad when you lie down to rest,
With words of love you starved for chiseled o’er they breast
In stone. Put in thy love some chaste but leaping fire,
And let thy veins run full with exquisite desire,—
Lips of pure passion are sweeter than gold.
"Why Should The Spirit Be Vain?" printed in an unidentified publication, clipping courtesy of the Ella Higginson Papers, Center for Pacific Northwest Studies, Heritage Resources, Western Washington University, Bellingham WA.
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