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+<title>
+  The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Angel in the Cloud, by Edwin W. Fuller.
+</title>
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+
+<pre>
+
+Project Gutenberg's The Angel in the Cloud, by Edwin W. (Wiley) Fuller
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license
+
+
+Title: The Angel in the Cloud
+
+Author: Edwin W. (Wiley) Fuller
+
+Release Date: July 14, 2018 [EBook #57504]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: UTF-8
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE ANGEL IN THE CLOUD ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images available at The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+</pre>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+<p class="c">
+<a href="images/cover_lg.jpg">
+<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="345" height="500" alt="[Image
+of the book's cover unavailable.]" /></a>
+</p>
+
+<div class="poetry"><div class="poem"><div class="smcap">
+<p class="c"><big>CONTENTS</big></p>
+<p class="hang">
+<a href="#PREFACE">Preface</a></p><p class="hang">
+<a href="#A_NOTE">A Note</a></p><p class="hang">
+<a href="#THE_ANGEL_IN_THE_CLOUD">The Angel In The Cloud</a></p><p class="hang">
+<a href="#THE_VILLAGE_ON_THE_TAR">The Village On The Tar</a></p><p class="hang">
+<a href="#REQUIESCAM">Requiescam</a></p><p class="hang">
+<a href="#LINES_TO_AN_ANALYTICAL_GEOMETRY">Lines To An Analytical Geometry</a></p><p class="hang">
+<a href="#LINES_TO_COUSINS_C_AND_E">Lines To Cousins C. And E. On The Birth Of Their Little Daughter</a></p><p class="hang">
+<a href="#THE_DEVIL_OUTDONE">The Devil Outdone; Or, The Guard Of The Sulphur Lake</a></p><p class="hang">
+<a href="#THE_SUNFLOWER">The Sunflower Lines Suggested By Observing Gen. Pettigrew’s Name Omitted In Mrs. Downing’s “Memorial Flowers” And In The “Southern Bouquet”</a></p><p class="hang">
+<a href="#AN_ELEGY">An Elegy Written On The Rotunda Steps, University Of Virginia, 1868</a></p><p class="hang">
+<a href="#FIRE_EYES">Fire Eyes</a></p><p class="hang">
+<a href="#MY_DARLINGS_JESSAMINE">My Darling’s Jessamine</a></p><p class="hang">
+<a href="#THE_PARTING_SHIP">The Parting Ship</a></p><p class="hang">
+<a href="#TO_M_mdash_FROM_Emdashmdash">To M&mdash;&mdash;, From E&mdash;&mdash;</a></p><p class="hang">
+<a href="#UNDER_THE_PINES">Under The Pines</a></p><p class="hang">
+<a href="#THE_LAST_LOOK">The Last Look</a></p><p class="hang">
+<a href="#LINES_WRITTEN_AT_THE_REQUEST_OF_AN_UNKNOWN_FRIEND">Lines Written At The Request Of An Unknown Friend</a></p><p class="hang">
+<a href="#OUT_IN_THE_RAIN">Out In The Rain</a></p><p class="hang">
+<a href="#THE_LILY_AND_THE_DEW-DROP">The Lily And The Dew-drop</a></p><p class="hang">
+<a href="#LINES">Lines, Written After Having A Hemorrhage From The Lungs</a></p><p class="hang">
+</p></div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<table border="0" cellpadding="8" cellspacing="0" summary=""
+style="border-right:2px solid black;
+border-left:2px solid black;
+border-top:2px solid black;
+border-bottom:2px solid black;">
+
+<tr><td class="brd">O</td><td class="brd"></td><td class="brd">O</td></tr>
+
+<tr class="brd"><td class="brd"></td><td class="brd"><br /><big>THE ANGEL<br />
+IN THE CLOUD</big><br />
+<br /><br /><br />
+BY
+<br /><br />
+EDWIN W. FULLER<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />PRIVATELY PRINTED<br />
+MCMVII<br /><br /></td><td class="brd"></td></tr>
+
+<tr><td class="brd">O</td><td class="brd"></td><td class="brd">O</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p class="c">
+<i>Copyright, 1907<br />
+Sumner Fuller Parham</i><br />
+<br /><br /><br /><br />
+TO THE<br />
+<br />
+HALLOWED MEMORY OF MY FATHER,<br />
+<br />
+WHO,<br />
+<br />
+EVEN WHILE I WAS GAZING UPON THE GOLDEN CITY<br />
+<br />
+PASSED WITHIN ITS WALLS,<br />
+<br />
+THIS LITTLE VOLUME IS INSCRIBED,<br />
+<br />
+WITH TEARS.<br />
+</p>
+
+<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE</h2>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">To</span> those who may favor these pages with perusal, I make this earnest
+request: that, if they commence, they will read all. Knowing that the
+best mode of dealing with doubts is to state and refute, successively, I
+regret that the plan of the present work forces a separation of the
+statement and refutation. To read one without the other were to defeat
+the object in view; hence my request.</p>
+
+<p>Many of the subjects of thought are worn smooth with the touch of ages,
+so that hope for originality is as slender as the bridge of Al Sirat;
+but in the bulrush ark of self-confidence, pitched with Faith, I commit
+my first-born to the Nile of public opinion; whether to perish by
+crocodile critics, or bask in the palace of favor, the Future, alone,
+must determine. May Pharaoh’s daughter find it!</p>
+
+<p class="r">
+E. W. F.<br />
+</p>
+
+<p><span class="smcap">Louisburg</span>, Jan. 17th, 1871.</p>
+
+<h2><a name="A_NOTE" id="A_NOTE"></a>A NOTE</h2>
+
+<p><i>First published more than thirty-five years ago, in the lifetime of the
+poet, THE ANGEL IN THE CLOUD has long since passed not only out of print
+but out of the memory of most living men. Of the copies of the original
+edition, only few are known to exist. Upon his surviving family is
+imposed the obligation, and to them comes the privilege, of rescuing
+from the realm of forgotten things these evidences of a graceful and
+genuine poetic gift in one whose memory they revere and whose genius
+they are unwilling to have die. It is therefore with the sense of
+performing a grateful duty that they have caused to be printed this new
+edition of Edwin Fuller’s poems, in the hope and belief that others,
+like themselves, will value it both as friends of the gentle poet and as
+disinterested lovers of good literature.</i></p>
+
+<p>August, 1907.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_1" id="page_1">{1}</a></span></p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_2" id="page_2">{2}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_3" id="page_3">{3}</a></span>&nbsp; </p>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_ANGEL_IN_THE_CLOUD" id="THE_ANGEL_IN_THE_CLOUD"></a>THE ANGEL IN THE CLOUD</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">’<span class="smcap">Twas</span> noon in August, and the sultry heat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had driven me from sunny balcony<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into the shaded hall, where spacious doors<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stood open wide, and lofty windows held<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their sashes up, to woo the breeze, in vain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The filmy lace that curtained them was still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And every silken tassel hung a-plumb.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The maps and unframed pictures o’er the wall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gave not a rustle; only now and then<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was heard the jingling sound of melting ice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deep in a massive urn, whose silver sides<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With trickling dewbeads ran. The little birds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up in their cages, perched with open beaks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And throbbing throats, upon the swaying rings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or plashed the tepid water in their cups<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With eager breast. My favorite pointer lay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With lolling tongue, and rapid panting sides,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beside my chair, upon the matted floor.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All things spoke heat, oppressive heat intense,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save swallows twittering up the chimney-flue,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_4" id="page_4">{4}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose hollow flutterings sounded cool alone.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To find relief I seized my hat and book,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fled into the park. Along a path<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of smoothest gravel, oval, curving white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Between two rows of closely shaven hedge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I passed towards a latticed summer-house;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A fairy bower, built in Eastern style,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With spires, and balls, and fancy trellis-work,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O’er which was spread the jasmine’s leafy net,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To snare the straying winds. Within I fell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon a seat of woven cane, and fanned<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My streaming face in vain. The very winds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seemed to have fled, and left alone the heat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To rise from parchèd lawn and scorching fields,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like trembling incense to the blazing god.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The leaves upon the wan and yellow trees<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hung motionless, as if of rigid steel;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And e’en the feath’ry pendula of spray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With faintest oscillation, dared not wave.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The withered flowers shed a hot perfume,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That sickened with its fragrance; and the bees<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Worked lazily, as if they longed to kick<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The yellow burdens from their patient thighs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And rest beneath the ivy parasols.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The butterflies refrained from aimless flight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And poised on blooms with gaudy, gasping wings.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fountain scarcely raised its languid jet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An inch above its tube; the basin deigned<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A feeble ripple for its tinkling fall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And rolled the little waves with noiseless beat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Against the marble side. The bright-scaled fish<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All huddled ’neath the jutting ledge’s shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where, burnished like their magnet toy types,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They rose and fell as if inanimate;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or, with a restless stroke of tinted fin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Turned in their places pettishly around;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While, with each move, the tiny whirlpools spun<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like crystal dimples on the water’s face.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sculptured lions crouched upon the edge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With gaping jaws, and stony, fixèd eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That ever on the pool glared thirstily.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deep in the park, beneath the trees, were grouped<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The deer, their noses lowered to the earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To snuff a cooler air; their slender feet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Impatient stamping at the teasing flies;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While o’er their heads the branching antlers spread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A mocking skeleton of shade! A fawn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Proud of his dappled coat, played here and there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Regardless of repose; the silver bell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That tinkled from a band of broidered silk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Proclaiming him a petted favorite.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save him alone, all things in view sought rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And wearied Nature seemed to yield the strife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And smold’ring wait her speedy sacrifice.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The heat grew hotter as I watched its work,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6">{6}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with its fervor overcome, I rose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And through the grounds, towards an orchard bent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My faltering steps in full despair of ease.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down through the lengthened rows of laden trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose golden-freighted boughs o’erlapped the way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hurried till I reached the last confines.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here stood a gnarléd veteran, now too old<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To bear much fruit, but weaving with its leaves<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So dense a shade, the smallest fleck of sun<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could not creep through. Beneath it spread a couch<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of velvet moss, fit for the slumbers of a king.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here prone I fell, at last amid a scene<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That promised refuge from the glaring heat.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beyond me stretched the orchard’s canopy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of thick, rank foliage, almost drooping down<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the green plush carpet underneath.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Close at my feet a crystal spring burst forth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And rolled its gurgling waters down the glade<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now spreading in a rilling silver sheet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O’er some broad rock, then gath’ring at its base<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into a foamy pool that churned the sand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mingling sparks of shining isinglass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It danced away o’er gleamy, pebbly bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where, midst the grassy nooks and fibrous roots,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The darting minnows played at hide and seek,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oft fluttering upwards, to the top, to spit<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A tiny bubble out, or slyly snap<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Th’ unwary little insect hov’ring near;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till, by its tributes widened to a brook,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It poured its limpid waters undefiled<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In to the river’s dun and dirty waves,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A type of childhood’s guileless purity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That mingling with the sordid world is lost.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Far in the distance, lofty mountains loomed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their blue sides trembling in the sultry haze.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From me to them spread varicultured fields,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That formed a patchwork landscape, which deserved<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pencil of a Rembrandt and his skill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hardy yellow stubble smoothly shaved,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With boldness lying ’neath the scorching sun;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The suffering corn, with tasselled heads all bowed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And twisted arms appealing, raised to Heaven;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The meadows faded by the constant blaze;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cattle lying in the hedge’s shade;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Across the landscape drawn a glitt’ring band,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where winds the river, like a giant snake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The ripples flashing like his polished scales.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Above the scene a lonely vulture wheeled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Turning with every curve from side to side,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if the fierce rays broiled his dusky wings;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And circling onwards, dwindled to a speck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in the distance vanished out of sight!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Complete repose was stamped on everything,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save where a tireless ant tugged at a crumb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To drag it o’er th’ impeding spires of moss;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And one poor robin, with her breast all pale<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And feather-scarce, hopped wearily along<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The streamlet’s edge, with plaintive clock-like chirp,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And searching, found and bore the curling worm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up to the yellow-throated brood o’erhead.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Behind the mountains reared the copper clouds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of summer skies, that whitened as they rose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till bleached to snow, they drifted dreamily,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like gleaming icebergs, through the blue sublime.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as they, one by one, sailed far away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Methought they were as ships from Earth to Heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus slowly floating to the Eternal Port.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Thunder’s muttered growl my reverie broke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And looking toward the West, I saw a storm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With gloomy wrath, had thrown its dark-blue line<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of breastworks, quiv’ring with each grand discharge<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of its own ordnance, o’er th’ horizon’s verge.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some time it stood to gloat upon its prey,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, girding up its strength, began its march.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Extending far its black gigantic arms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It grimly clambered up the tranquil sky;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till, half-way up the arch, its shaggy brows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Scowled down in rage upon the frightened earth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While through its wind-cleft portals sped the darts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That brightly hurtled through the sultry air.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And down the mountain-sides the shadow crept,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A dark veil spreading over field and wood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus adding gloom to Nature’s awful hush.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fleecy racks had fled far to the East,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where sporting safely in the gilding light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They mocked the angry monster’s cumbrous speed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then, while I marked its progress, came a train,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of dark and doubting thoughts into my mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bitterly thus my reflections ran:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Strange is the Providence that rules the world,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That sets the Medean course of Nature’s laws;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sometimes adapting law to circumstance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But oftener making law fulfilled a curse.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yon brewing storm in verdant summer comes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When vegetation spreads its foliage sails,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That, like a full-rigged ship’s, are easier torn;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why comes it not in winter, when the trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With canvas reefed by Autumn’s furling frosts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could toss in nude defiance to the blast?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The murd’rous wind precedes the gentle shower<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ere the suffering grain has quenched its thirst,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It bows the heavy head, alone of worth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from the ripening stalk wrings out the life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While gayly nod the heads of chaff unharmed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rank miasma floats in summer-time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When man must brave its poisoned breath or starve;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It hovers sickliest over richest fields<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While over sterile lands the air is pure;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tallest oak is by the lightning riven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The hateful bramble on the ground is spared;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The crop man needs demands his constant work,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The weeds alone spring forth without the plow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sweetest flowers wear the sharpest thorns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The deadliest reptiles lurk in fairest paths!<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wherever Nature shows her brightest smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Tis but a mask to hide her darkest frown.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tropics seem an Eden of luscious fruits<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And flowers, and groves of loveliest birds, and lakes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That mirror their gay plumage flitting o’er;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where man may live in luxury of thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without the crime of schemes, or curse of toil&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tropics seem a Hell, when all with life<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are stifled with the foul sirocco’s breath;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When from the green-robed mountain’s volcan top,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A fire-fountain spouts its blazing jet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far up against the starry dome of Heaven;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Returning in its vast umbrella shape,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Leaps in red cataracts adown the slope,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shaves clean the mountain of its emerald hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And leaves it bald with ashes on its head.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Below, the valley is a crimson sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose glowing billows break to white-hot foam;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as they surge amid the towering trees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They, tottering, bow forever to the waves;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The leaves and branches, crackling into flame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Leave only clotted cinders floating there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The darting birds, their gaudy plumage singed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fall fluttering in, with little puffs of smoke.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fleeing beasts are lapped in, bellowing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And charred to coal, drift idly with the tide.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The red flood, breaking through the vale, rolls on<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its devious way towards the sea; the glare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Illuminating far its winding track,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if a devil flew with flaming torch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or when an earthquake gapes its black-lined jaws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, growling, gulps a city’s busy throng<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into its greedy bowels. Or the sea bursts forth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its bands of rock, and laughing at “Thus far!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rolls wildly over peopled towns, and homes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In fancied safety; playing fearful pranks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O’er which to chuckle in its briny bed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Jeering the stones because they cannot swim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And crushing like a shell all work of wood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Docking the laden ships upon the hills,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tossing lighter craft about like weeds;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till, wearied with the spoiling, sinks to rest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thus Nature to herself is but half kind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But over man holds fullest tyranny;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And man, a creature who cannot prevent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His own existence! Why not happy made?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For surely ’twere as easy to create<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man in a state of happiness and good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And keep him there, as to create at all.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If misery’s not deserved before his birth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then misery must from purest malice flow;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet malice none assign to Providence.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">But some may say: Were man thus happy made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He would not be a person, but a thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lose the very seed of happiness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The consciousness of merit. Grant ’tis true!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then why does merit rarely meet reward?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And why does there appear a tendency,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Throughout the polity divine, to mark<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With disapproval all the good in man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bless the evil? Through the entire world<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is felt this conflict: some strange power within<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Exciting us to good, while all events<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Proclaim its folly. Throughout Nature’s laws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through man in every station, up to God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This fatal contradiction glares. The storm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With ruthless breath, annihilates the cot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That, frail and humble, shields the widow’s head;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And while she reads within the use-worn Book<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That none who trusts shall e’er be desolate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The falling timbers crush the promise out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And she is dead beneath her ruined home!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The prostrate cottage passed, the very wind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now howls a rough but fawning lullaby<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Around the marble walls, and lofty dome,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That shelter pride and heartless arrogance.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And when the Boaz Winter throws his skirt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of purest white across the lap of Earth,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And decks her bare arborial hair with gems,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose feeblest flash would pale the Koh-i-noor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rich, alone, find beauty in the scene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, clad in thankless comfort, brave the cold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gliding steels flash through the feathery drifts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The jingling bells proclaiming happiness;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet ’neath the furry robe the oath is heard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And boisterous laughter at the ribald jest.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The coldest hearts beat ’neath the warmest clothes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And often all the blessings wealth can give,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are heaped on one, whose daily life reviles<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The very name of Him who doth bestow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While in a freezing garret, o’er the coals<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That, bluely flickering with the feeble flame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seem cold themselves, a trusting Christian bends;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her faith all mocked by cruel circumstance.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cold, bare walls, the chilling air-swept floor;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some broken stools, a mattress stuffed with straw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upholstering the apartment. Through the sash,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wind, with jaggèd lips of broken glass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shrieks in its freezing spite. A cold-blued babe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With face too thin to hold a dimple’s print,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With famished gums tugs at the arid breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thrusting its bare, splotched arms, in eagerness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From out the poor white blanket’s ravelled edge.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beside the mother sits a little boy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With one red frost-cracked hand spread out, in vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To warm above the faintly-burning coals;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The other pressing hardly ’gainst his teeth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A stale and tasteless loaf of smallest size,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which lifting often to the mother’s view,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He offers part; she only shakes her head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sadly smiles upon the gaunt young face.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet in her basket, on a pile of work,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An open Bible lies with outstretched leaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose verses speak in keenest irony:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Do good,” and “verily thou shalt be fed.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so through all the world, the righteous poor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wicked rich. Deceit, and fraud, and craft<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reap large rewards, while pure integrity<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Must gnaw the bone of faith with here and there<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A speck of flesh called consciousness of right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To reach the marrow in another world.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But man within himself’s the greatest paradox;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“A little animal,” as Voltaire says,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet a greater wonder than the sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or spangled firmament. That little one<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can weigh and measure all the wheeling worlds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But finds within his “five feet” home, a Sphinx<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose riddle he can never solve.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">“Thyself,”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The oracles of old bade men to know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if to mock their very impotence;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And man, to know himself, for centuries<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has toiled and studied deep, in vain.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not man in flesh, for blest Hippocrates<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bright trimmed his lamp, and passed it down the line,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And each disciple adding of his oil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It blazes now above the ghastly corpse,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till every fibre, every thread-like vein,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is known familiar as a city’s streets;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The little muscle twitching back the lip,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rejoicing in a name that spans the page.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But man in mind, that is not seen nor felt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But only knows he is, through consciousness.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He sees an outside world, with all its throng<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of busy people who care not for him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And only few that know he does exist;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet he feels the independent world<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is but effect produced upon himself,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Universe is packed within his mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His mind within its little house of clay.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What is that mind? Has it a formal shape?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And has it substance, color, weight, or force?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What are the chains that bind it to the flesh?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That never break except in death, though oft<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The faculties are sent far out through space?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where is it placed, in head, or hands, or feet?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And can it have existence without place?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if a place, it must extension have,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if extended, it is matter proven.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poor man! he has but mind to view mind with,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And might as well attempt to see the eye<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without a mirror! True, faint consciousness<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Holds up a little glass, wherein he sees<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A few vague facts that cannot satisfy.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For these, and their attendant laws, have fought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mental champions of the world till now<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That each may deck them in his livery,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And claim them as his own discovery.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hedged in, man does not know that he is paled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And struggles fiercely ’gainst the boundaries,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And strives to get a glimpse of those far realms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of thought sublime, where his short wings would sink<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With helpless fluttering, through the vast profound.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the coals of curiosity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A writhing worm, he’s laid; and twists and turns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To find, in vain, the healing salve of Truth.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But grant that mind exists in fullest play:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How does it work and what its modes of thought?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here consciousness may act, and hold to view<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A dim outline of powers, contraposed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In such a conflict, every one may seize<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The doctrine suits him best. Hence different creeds&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Desire battling reason, reason will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And will the weathercock of motive’s wind;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Motive the cringing slave of circumstance.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And here Charybdis rises; no control<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has man o’er circumstance, but circumstance<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Begets the motive governing the will;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then how can man be free? Yet some may say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man can obey the motive, or can not.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He can, but only when a stronger rules.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That we without a motive never act,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I do declare, though in the face of Reid.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That that is strongest which impels, a child<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Might know, although Jouffroy exclaims,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“You’re reasoning in a circle.” Let us place<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An iron fragment ’twixt two magnet-bars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What one attracts is thereby stronger proved.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or it may be the really weaker one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But yet, because of nearness to the steel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Possess a relatively greater force.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so of motives, howe’er trivial they,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The one that moves is strongest to the mind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To illustrate: Suppose I pare a peach;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A friend near by me banteringly asserts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That I can not refrain from eating it.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Two motives now arise&mdash;the appetite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the desire to prove my self-control.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I hesitate awhile, then laughing say,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“I would not give the peach to prove you wrong.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But as my teeth press on it, pride springs up,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bids me show that I am not the slave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of appetite, and far away I hurl<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tinted, fragrant sphere.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Was not each thought<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spontaneous? Could I control their rise?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How perfectly absurd to talk of choice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Between two motives offered to the mind!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if the motive was a horse we’d choose<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To pull our minds about. There is no choice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until the motive makes it; then we choose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not ’tween the motives, but the acts.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">If, then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The spring of action is the motive’s power,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The motive being far beyond our sway,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where is our freedom? But a fabled myth!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And man but differs from a star in this,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The laws of stars are fixed and definite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And every movement there can be foretold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of man, no deed can be foreseen till done.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At most we can but form a general guess<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How he will act, at such a time and place.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Even if we knew the motives that would rise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We could not prophesy unless we knew<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our subject’s frame of mind; for differently,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On different minds, same motives often act.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hence, we can tell the conduct of a friend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More surely than a stranger’s, since we know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By long acquaintance, how his motives work.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But should new motives rise, we cannot tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until experience gives us data new.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus we will ride beside a friend alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And show to him our money without fear,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because we know the motives&mdash;love for us,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Honor, and horror of disgraceful crime&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are stronger with him than cupidity.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But with a stranger we would feel unsafe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor would we trust our friend, were we alone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon an island, wrecked, and without food,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And saw his eye with hunger glare, and heard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The famished motive whispering to him, “Kill!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If he were free, would we feel slightest fear?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For all his soul would shudder from the deed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And never motive could impel such crime.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Upon this principal all law is made;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For were man free he could not be controlled,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all compliance would be his caprice.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But since he is the tyrant-motive’s slave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The law to govern motive only seeks<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And builds its sanction on the base of pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As motive strongest in the human heart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It only falls below perfection’s height,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because there are exceptions to the rule;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When hate and passion, lust and greed of gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Prove stronger than the fear of distant pain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And could the law know fully every heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And vary sanction, there would be no crime.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But law itself, and the obeying world,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are proofs against the grosser form of Fate:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That all is preordained, nor can be changed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All human life is vacillating life;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We make our plans each day, then alter them.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We form resolves one hour that break the next,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And no one dares assert that he will act,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the morrow, in a certain way;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But cries, it all depends on circumstance.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And this is strange, that while we cannot change<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our lives one tittle by our own free will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We help, each day, to change our neighbor’s course;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he assists the motives changing ours.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For all relations to our fellow-men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are powers that form our lives, in spite of us.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But we may change our motives, often do,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By changing place, or circumstance of life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By hearing, reading, or reflective thought;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet are these very things from motives done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And motives mocking all our vain commands.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One motive made the object of an act,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Another rises subject of the act;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to the final motive we can never reach.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The world’s a self-adjusting, vast machine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose human comparts cannot guide themselves;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And each is but a puppet to the whole,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet adds its mite towards its government;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here, in this motive circle, lies all Fate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our fellow-men with motives furnish us,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While we contribute to their motive fund.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The real power, hidden deep within,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Escapes the eye of careless consciousness;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who proudly tells us we are action’s cause.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon this error men, mistaken, raise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The edifice of law in all its forms;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That yet performs its varied functions well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because it offers motives that restrain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till stronger overcome, and crime ensues.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The motive gibbet lifts its warning arms;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pillory gapes its scolloped lips for necks;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lash grows stiff with blood and shreds of flesh;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The treadmill yields beneath the wearied feet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Sabbath after Sabbath preachers tell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of judgment, and of awful Hell, and Heaven;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All these, to stronger make, than lust of sin.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet, to lead my reasoning to its end,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I find a chaos of absurdity.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If I am by an unruled motive driven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why act at all? Why passive not recline<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the lap of destiny, and wait her arms?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why struggle to acquire means of life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Fate must fill our mouths or let us die?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why go not naked forth into the world,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And trust to Fate for clothes? Why spring aside<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From falling weight, or flee a burning house,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or fight with instinct strength the clasp of waves?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because we cannot help it; every act<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Behind it has a motive, whose command<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We, willing or unwilling, must obey.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Law governs motives, motives create law;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Between the reflex action man is placed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The helpless shuttlecock of unjust Fate!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now passive driven to commit a crime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then by the driver laid upon the rack;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Zeno’s slave, compelled by Fate to steal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then compelled by Fate to bear the lash!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What gross injustice is the rule of life!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A sentient being made without a will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And placed a cat’s-paw in the hands of Fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who rakes the moral embers for a sin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That, found, must burn the helpless one alone.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All right and wrong, and whate’er makes man man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are gone, and language is half obsolete;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No need of words to tell of moral worth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Existing not, nor e’en conceivable;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No words of blame or commendation, given<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">According to the intention of a deed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No words of cheer or comfort, to incite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For man must act without our useless tongues;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No words of prayer, if Fate supplies our wants;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No words of prayer, if Fate locks up her store;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No words of love, for fondest love were loathed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If fanned by Fate to flame. No words of hate,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For all forgive a wrong when helpless done;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The buds that bloom upon the desert heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lose all their sweetness when they’re forced to grow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All pleasure’s marred because it is not earned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pain more painful since ’tis undeserved.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Man falling from his high estate, becomes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A brute with keener sensibilities;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Endowed with mind, upon whose plastic face<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fate writes its batch of lies; poor man believes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And prates of moral agency, and cants<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of good <i>he</i> does, and evil that <i>he</i> shuns.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With blind content, he rests in false belief,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And happy thus escapes the mental rack&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The consciousness of what he really is.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And yet why false belief? The world believes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And acting, moves in general harmony;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could harmony from such an error flow?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would all believe, would not some one<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have doubted by his works as well as faith?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The veriest skeptic walks the earth to-day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if he held the seal of freest will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And shapes its course, and judges all mankind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By freedom’s rule.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Then may not that be true<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which most believe, and those who doubt profess<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In every act; as that which few believe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to which none conform?<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Two paths I see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One marked Free-Will, the other Fate. The first,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Extending far as human thought can reach,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through lovely meads with sweetest flowers, and fruits<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of actions clearly shown as right and wrong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because of choice ’twixt the two; of laws<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With sanction suiting agents who are free;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of courts acquitting the insane of crime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of crime made crime, alone, when done as crime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of judgment passed by public sentiment<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On action in the ratio of liberty.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Delightful view; but seek an entrance there&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The towering bars of unruled motive stand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before the path, and none can overleap.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The field of Fate lies open; nothing bars<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our progress there. A thousand different ways<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The path diverges. Every by-path leads<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To some foul pit or bottomless abyss.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Along each side are strewed the whitening bones<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of venturous pilgrims, lost amid its snares,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some broken on the rocks of gross decree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who hold an unchanged destiny from birth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who will not take a medicine if sick,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who cant of “To be, will be,” and the time<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unalterably set to each man’s life.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some stranded on the finer form of Fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who say it works by means. Hence they believe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In using all preventives to disease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In going boating in a rubber belt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In placing Franklin rods upon a house,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In preaching, and in praying men repent.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These, when one dies, cry out, “It was his time.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or if he should recover, “It was not.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their fate is always ex post facto fate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And knowing not the future, they abide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The issue of events, and then confirm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their dogged dogmas.<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Still another class,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though fewer far in numbers, perish here.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These are the sophists; men who deeply dive<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath the surface of effect, and trace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our actions to their source. They find that man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Made in the glorious image of his God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is not an independent cause, but works<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From motive causes out of his control.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They find that every mental act must flow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From outside source, then fearlessly ascend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The chain of being to a height divine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And dare to fetter the Eternal mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And throw their bonds around Omnipotence.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As well a spider in an eagle’s nest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Might, from his hidden web among the twigs,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Attempt to throw his little gluey thread<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Around the mottled wing, whose muscled strength<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beats hurried vacuums in the ocean’s spray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or circling upward, parts the thunder-cloud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bursts above; and shaking off the mists,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With rigid feathers bright as burnished steel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Floats proudly through the tranquil air.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Which realm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall now be mine, Free-Will or Fate? The one<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stands open wide, but all in ruin ends;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The other, fair if once within the pale;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But how to scale the barriers none can tell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bah! all is doubt. I’ll leave the mystic paths<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where, on each side, are ranged the phantom shapes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of disputants, alive and dead, who fight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With foolish zeal, o’er myths intangible;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When each one cries “Eureka!” for his creed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That scarcely lives a day, then yields its place.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Roman ’gainst a Roman, Greek to Greek,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A zealous Omar with an Ali paired;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A saintly Pharisee in hot dispute<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Sadducees. Along th’ illustrious rows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of lesser lights, who advocate the creeds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of their respective masters, we descend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To later days and see Titanic minds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Exert their giant strength to reach the truth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, baffled, fall. Locke, ever elsewhere clear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here mystified Spinoza’s dizzy wing<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O’erweighted by his strange “imperium;”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hobbes, with his new intrinsic liberty;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Belsham’s quaint reduction too absurd;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Sufficient reason,” reared in Leibnitz’s strength;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reid, Collins, Edwards, Tappan, Priestley, Clarke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All push each other from the door of Truth.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">None ever have, nor ever will, on earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reach truth of theory concerning Fate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It stands as whole from every touch of man<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As ocean’s broad blue scroll, whose rubber waves<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Erase the furrows of the plowing keels.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then, careless whether man be king or slave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I’ll take his actions, whether free or not,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And trace them to their sources. Deep the dive,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But, throwing off the buoys of Charity<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Faith, and all the prejudice of life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I grasp the lead of Doubt, and downward sink<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into the cesspool of the human heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To find the fount, that to the surface casts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A thousand bubbles of such varied hues:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pale white bubble of hypocrisy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The murky bubble of revenge and hate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The frail gilt bubble of ambition’s hope,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rainbow bubble of sweet love in youth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dull slime bubble of a sensual lust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The crystal bubble of true charity!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Instead of analyzing every fact<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of moral nature, searching for its source,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I’ll name a source most probable, and try<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The facts upon it; if they fit, confirm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If not, reject. With Hobbes and Paley then<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I join; and here avow that all mankind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have but one source of action&mdash;Love of self&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet not self-love as understands the world,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For that’s a name for error shown by few;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But natural instinct that impels all men<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To give self pleasure, and to save it pain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For pain and pleasure are Life’s only modes&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No neutral state&mdash;we suffer, or enjoy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And every action’s linked with one of these.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We cannot act without a consciousness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A consciousness of pleasure or of pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The very automatic workings of our frames<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are pleasures, unmarked from their constancy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But if impeded, they produce a pain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This instinct, teaching us to pleasure seek,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And pain avoid, none ever disobey;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For be their conduct what it may, a crime<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or virtue, greed or pure benevolence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To find the greatest pleasure is their aim.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nay, start not, critic, but attend the proofs.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A man exists within himself alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Himself, or he would lose identity.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To him the world exists but by effects<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon himself. His actions toward it then<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bear reference to himself. He cannot act<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without affecting self. His nature’s law<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Demands that self be dealt with pleasantly.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There is no pain or pleasure in the world,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But as he feels th’ reality in self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or fancies it by signs in other men.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This fancied pain is never <i>real</i> pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But yields a <i>real</i> reflex. Others’ pain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is never pain to us, unless we know<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It does exist. Within a hundred yards<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A neighbor dies, in agony intense,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet we feel no slightest trace of pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unless informed thereof. ’Tis only when we know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And therefore are affected, that we feel.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The modes of pain and pleasure are then two,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A real and a fancied one. The first acute,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In ratio of our sensibilities;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The last in ratio of our image-power.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These gifts in different men unequal are,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hence life’s varied phases. One may deem<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A real pain far greater than a pain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In fancy formed, from others’ sufferings;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He eats alone, and drives the starving off.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Another’s fancy paints more vividly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he endures keen hunger to supply<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The poor with food. And so of pleasure too,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And this moves all to shun the greatest pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And find the greatest pleasure.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Different minds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And each at different times of life, possess<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A different standard of this highest good.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The swaddled infant wails for its own food,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because its highest pleasure is alone in sense;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The child will from its playmate hide a cake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until it learns that praise for sharing it<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gives greater pleasure than the sweetened taste;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One boy at school proves insubordinate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His schoolmates’ praise he deems his highest good;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Another studies well, because he values more<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A parent’s smile. The murderer with his knife,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The maiden praying in her purity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The miser dying over hoards of gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The widow casting thither her two mites,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A white-veil bending o’er the dying couch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A stained beauty floating through the waltz,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The preacher’s zeal, the gambler’s eager zest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All have one motive, greatest good to self!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The tender stop their ears, and cry aloud:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“What! do you dare assert the gambler seeks<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With hellish zeal the faintest shade of good?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he is holy as the Man of God?”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By no means, yet he seeks his good the same.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not good as you’ve been taught to apprehend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But good, the greatest to his frame of mind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Do not exclaim that good is always good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And never differs from itself. Anon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We’ll speak of abstract truths, if such there be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That good and pleasure are synonymous<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At times of action, is most surely plain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For pleasure’s but the consciousness of good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or satisfaction of our tendencies.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If all the gambler’s soul is bent on gain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then at the moment gain is greatest good;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But should you reason with him, and explain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Another life, and make it really seem<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To him the best, he straight would change his course.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“But,” cries my friend, “the preacher, if he’s true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Must labor, not for self, but others’ good;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in proportion as the self’s forgot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And others cared for, does his conduct rise.”<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But he can not, if conscious, forget self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For everything he does is felt within;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But deeds for others’ good a pleasure give;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If done in pain to self, the pleasure’s more.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To gain the pleasure, self is put to pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Just as a vesication brings relief.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If he refused to undergo the pain<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Remorse would double it.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Among his flock<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some one is sick; to visit him is right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And done, affords a pleasure. Sweeter far<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That pleasure, if he walks through snow and ice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At duty’s call!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">Sublime self-sacrifice,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of which men prate, is nothing more nor less<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than base self-worship. Little pain endured<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">T’ avoid a great; a smaller pleasure lost<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To gain a larger!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i10">All the preacher’s words,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That burn or die upon the stolid ear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are spoken from this motive, good to self.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You stare; but it is true. Why does he preach?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To save men’s souls?&mdash;Why does he try to save?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because he loves his fellow-men? Not so.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His love for them but to the pleasure adds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which duty done confers; but all his work<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Must be with reference to himself alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though cunning self the real motive hides,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And leaves his broad philanthropy and love<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To claim the merit. Let a score of men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The blackest sinners, die. He knows it not,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And feels no pang; but if he is informed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He suffers reflex pain. And if his charge,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Remorseful tortures for unfaithfulness.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And only is the state of souls to him<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of interest, as they are known. When known,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It is a source of pleasure or of pain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which all his labor is to gain or shun.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“This difference then,” says one, “between men’s lives;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some live for present, some for future good.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sensual care for self on earth alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mystic cares for self beyond the grave.”<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Both love a present self, in present time.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They differ in their notions of its good.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stern ascetic, with his shirt of hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His bleeding penitential knees, his fasts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To almost death, his soul-exhausting prayers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is seeking, cries the world, good after death.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet his course of life is that alone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which could yield pleasure in his state of mind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He suffers, it is true, but hope of Heaven<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus rendered sure, as much a present good<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is, as the food that feasts the epicure.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The contemplation of his future home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which he is thus securing, is a balm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That heals his stripes, and sweetens all their pain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The penance blows upon his blood-wealed breast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are bliss compared to lashes of remorse.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So for the greater good, the hope of Heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He undergoes “the trivial pain of flesh.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The epicure cares not a fig for Heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But finds his greatest good in pleasing sense.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so the man who gives his wealth away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is just as selfish as the money-slave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who grinds out life amid his dusty bags.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They both seek happiness with equal zest:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The one finds pleasure in the many thanks<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of those receiving, or the public’s praise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or if concealed, in consciousness of right;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The other in the consciousness of wealth.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">If all men act from motives just the same,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where is the right and wrong? In the effect?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The quality of actions must be judged<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From their intent, and not their consequence.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If two men matches light for their cigars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from one careless dropped, a house is burned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is he that dropped it guiltier of crime<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than he whose match went out? Most surely no!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then is the miser blameless, though he turn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The helpless orphan freezing from his door;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Dives should not be commended more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though all his goods to feed the poor he gives.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">How then shall we determine quality<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of actions, when their sources are the same,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And their effects possess no quality?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Two dead men lie in blood beside the way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The one shot by a friend, an accident;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The other murdered for his gold. ’Tis plain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No wrong lies in th’ effects, for both are ’like;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And of the agents, he of accident<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had no intent, and therefore did no wrong.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The other killed to satisfy the self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A motive founding all the Christian work,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And right if that is right. The wrong<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then lies between the motive and effect,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And must exist in the effecting means.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet how within the means is wrong proved wrong?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Jouffroy would say, because a disregard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of others’ rights; for here he places good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When classifying Nature’s moral facts.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He makes the child first serve flesh self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then moral self, and last to others’ good<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ascend, and general order. What a myth!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if man thought of others, save effect<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From them upon himself. But order gives<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A greater good to self; therefore he joins<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His strength to others, creates laws that bind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Himself and them, and produce harmony.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He thus surrenders minor good of self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To gain a greater. This is all the need<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He has of order, though Jouffroy asserts<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That order universal is the Good.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet still he says that private good of each<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is but a fragment of the absolute,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that regard for every being’s rights<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is binding as the universal law!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Regard for others’ rights indeed, when men<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unharmed agree to hang a man for crime!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not for the crime&mdash;that’s past; but to prevent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A second crime, which crime alone exists<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In apprehensive fancy. Thus for wrong<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That’s but forethought, they do a real wrong.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To save their rights from harm they fear may come.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They strip a fellow-man of actual right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And highest, right of life; then dare to call<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their action pure, divinely just, and good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the farce of empty names.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">They make<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of gross injustice individual,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A flimsy justice, for mankind at large,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cry, Let it be done, though Heaven fall!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if a whole could differ from its parts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or right be made from wrong. Yet some may say<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That one is sacrificed for many’s good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or hung that many may avoid his fate;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And that his crime deserved what he received.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But law must value every man alike,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cannot save one man, or thousand men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From future evil, only possible,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By greatest evil to another man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In its own view of justice. Nor can crime<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Meet punishment, at mortal hands, by right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For murder’s murder, done by one or twelve,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And legal murder’s done in colder blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose stains are chalked by vain authority.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Authority! the child of numbers and self-love!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Regard for rights of things, indeed, when beasts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And birds must yield their right of life that man<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May please his right of taste. When, during Lent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The holy-days of fasting and of prayer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The scaly victims crowd the Bishop’s board,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their flesh unfleshed by Conscience’ pliant rule,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our palates must be for a moment pleased,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though costing something agonies of death;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And worse than robbers, what we cannot give,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We dare to take.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">They have no souls, say you?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor after death exist?<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">That nothing’s lost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Philosophy maintains as axiom truth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An object disappears, but somewhere lives<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In other form. The water-pool to mist<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is changed, the powder into flame and smoke.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My pointer dies, his body, decomposed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The air, the soil, and vegetation feeds;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet still exists, although disintegrate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For there was something, while the pointer lived,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That was not body, but that governed it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A spirit, essence, call it what you will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A something seen but through phenomena,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And by them proved most clearly to exist.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A something, not the feet that made them run,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A something, not the eyes, but knew they saw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A something, without which the eyes could see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As much as glasses can without the eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The something, “Carlo” named, that knew the name.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pointer dies, and we dissect the flesh.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All there, none missing, to the tiniest nerve;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet something’s gone, the more important part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And can you say that it has ceased to be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When th’ flesh, inferior to it, still exists?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The spirit, if existent, must be whole,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor can be parted till material proven.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Carlo lives, seems plain as I shall live;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He lived for self, and so did I; we fare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alike in after-life, we differ here<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In consciousness of immortality.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I digress.<br /></span>
+<span class="i15">Where is the right and wrong?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This is the Gordian knot no sword can cut,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All sages of the world, with wisdom-teeth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have gnawed this file without the least effect.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The thousand savants of old Greece and Rome<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Proclaimed a thousand theories of good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That each, successive, proud devoid of truth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A myriad moderns have advanced their views,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each gained a few disciples, who avowed their truth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And each, by some one else, been proven wrong.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Bentham marches out utility,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A moral test from benefit or harm.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if the good depended on effect,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And good would not be good, though universe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In all its phases found no use! And Price<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Parades his “reason,” with its simple good;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who’d rather give the question up, than err,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so declares it cannot be defined.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then Wollaston declares that good is truth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which no one doubts, far as it goes; it goes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Toward good, as far as truth, its attribute;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beyond, it cannot reach. And Montesquieu<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Clarke, relation’s order preach; a rule<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That makes the growing grain, or falling shower,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A moral agent, capable of good.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then Wolf and Malebranche perfection see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And therefore good, in God; but their sight fails,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And God may mirror good, but man’s weak eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ne’er see it. Adam Smith, with “sentiment”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Proceeds to dress a thought, and call it, good;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And makes the abstract of a Universe<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Arise from puling human sympathy.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The largest concourse follow Hutcheson,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Although the greater part ne’er heard of him.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The world at large believes in moral sense;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They call it conscience! Oh the precious word!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though stretched and warped, they almost deify,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And term it man’s tribunal in his breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where he may judge his actions, right or wrong.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What nonsense! Conscience is but consciousness<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of soul, and idea of its good. We form<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This idea from regard of fellow-men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Association, and from thought. We find<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sometimes the good of soul conflicts with flesh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when we know the soul above the flesh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We yield to that the preference. Hence arise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The foolish notions of self disregard.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The savage does not know he has a soul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And therefore has no conscience. He can steal<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without remorse. But when he learns of soul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He finds it has a good, and by this test<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tries moral actions, are they good for soul?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And this is conscience.<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Yet is conscience changed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By circumstance. The Hindoo mother tears<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The helpless infant from her trickling breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To feed the crocodile, and save her soul;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She’s happier in its conscience-murdered wail<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than in its gleeful prattle on her knee.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And daily we see one commit a deed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without a pang, another dare not do.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If conscience may be warped but one degree<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By plain Sorites, it may be reversed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And only prove an interested thought.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To abstract good no man has found the key,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though in the various forms of concrete good<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We see the similars, and from these frame<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A good that serves the purposes of life.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We pass it as we do the concept, “Man,”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But never ope to count the attributes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our purest right is but approximate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To this vague abstract idea, how obtained,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We know not. Plato says ’tis memory<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of previous life. Perhaps! ’Tis very dim<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In this; and yet it rocks the cradle world<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As strongly as the baby man can bear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so of truth, or aught abstract, we know<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of such existence somewhere, that is all.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“But we,” cries one, “do hold some abstract truth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In perfect form. The truth of science’ laws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The truths of numbers, each are perfect truths.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The truths of science are hypotheses,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And only true as far as they explain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But perfect truth must save all facts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That ever rose or possibly can rise.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“The priest of Nature” thought he held the truth<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When throughout space he tracked the motes of light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ground the sunbeams into dazzling dust.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our quivering waves through subtle ether flash,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And drown Sir Isaac’s atoms in a flood<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of glorious truth; till some new fact shall rise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To give our truth the lie, and cause a change<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of theory.<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Our numbers no truth have,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or but a shadow, cast on Earth by truth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Existent in some unknown world. We make<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our little numbers fit the shadow’s line<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As best they can, and boast eternal truth!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet take a simple form of numbers, “two,”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We cannot have a perfect thought of this,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because the mind directly asks, two what?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Tis not enough chameleon to feed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On empty air. Two units, we reply<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then what is meant by unity? An “One,”&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mind can only cognize o-n-e,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which makes three units and not one.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">The mind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Must have a concrete object to adjust<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The abstract on, before it comprehends.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But two concretes are never two, because<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They never can be proved exactly ’like.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To illustrate: suppose two ivory balls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of finest mold, and equal weight, precise<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As hair-hung scales, arranged most delicate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can prove; yet they can not be shown<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To differ, not the trillionth of a grain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or if they could, they may in density<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be unlike; then to equal weight, one must<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be larger by the trillionth of an inch.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Even if alike in density and weight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No one will dare assert that they possess<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A perfect similarity in all.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The abstract two is twice as much as one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But our two balls unlike, perforce must be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Greater or less than two of either one;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But two of one, the same can never be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On poor, imperfect Earth. Thus all our twos<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fall, in some measure, short of concept two.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if we paint the concept to the eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The figure 2 of finest stereotype,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath the microscope imperfect shows.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so our perfect numbers, wisdom’s boast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are faint, uncertain shadows in the mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That we can never picture to the eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor truthfully apply to anything.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We use a ragged, ill-drawn substitute,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That answers all the purposes of life.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The truths of mathematics, so sublime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are never true to us, concretely known;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in the abstract so concealed are they,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No man can swear he has their perfect form.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We can’t conceive a line without some breadth&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The perfect line possesses length alone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Earth never saw a pure right-angle drawn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pythag’ras cannot prove his theorem,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The finest quadrant is but nearest truth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The closest measures but approximate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all from Sanconiathon to Pierce,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With grandest soaring into Number’s realms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have only fluttered feebly o’er the ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their heaven-strong wings by feebling matter tied.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Man is a pris’ner, but the prison walls<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are very vast; so vast the universe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lies, like a mote, within their mighty scope.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Most are content to grovel on the earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some rise a little way, and sink again;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And some, on noble wing, soar to the bounds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And eager beat the bars. Beyond these walls<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The abstract lies, and oft the straggling rays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through crevices and chinks, stray to our jail;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And these we fondly hug as truth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Poor man!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The glimpses of the great Beyond have roused,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For centuries, his curious soul to flight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With eagle eye fixed on the distant goal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He cleaves his way, till dashed against the walls;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some fall with bruiséd wing again to Earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And some cling bravely there, so eager they<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To reach the untouched prize, and so intent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their gaze upon its light, they notice not<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bounds, till Hamilton, with wary eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Discovers the Eternal bounding line,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sadly shows its hopeless fixity.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But man on Earth I love to ridicule,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A little clod of sordid selfishness!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I’ll take his mental acts of every kind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And see how self originates them all;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I’ll follow Stewart, since he classifies<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With shrewd discretion, though his reasoning err,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He places first the appetites; and these<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perforce are selfish, as our self alone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Must feel and suffer with our wants. Our food<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tastes good alone to us. The richest feast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In others’ mouths, could never satisfy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our appetite for food; self must be fed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Desires are next; and that of knowledge, first,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is proven selfish, by his quoted line<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From Cicero&mdash;that “knowledge is the food<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of mind”&mdash;and food is ever sought for self.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Desire of social intercourse with men,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From thought that it will better self, proceeds.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man’s state is friendly, not a state of war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For instinct teaches him society<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will offer many benefits to self;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And only when he has a cause to fear<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That self will suffer, does he learn to war.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Desire to gain esteem, is self in search<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of approbation; like the appetite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The end pursued affects alone the self.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lastly Stewart boasts posthumous fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When self, as sacrificed, can seek no good.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To prove the motive is a selfish good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I’ll not assert enjoyment after life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But say, the pleasure of the millions’ praise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Anticipated in the present thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And intense consciousness of heroism,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Far more than compensates the pangs of death.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Curtius leaping down the dread abyss,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enjoys his fame enough, before he strikes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To pay for every pain of mangling death.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Affections next adorn the moral page.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At that of kindred, mothers cry aloud:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“For shame! for shame! do you pretend to say<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I love my child with any thought of self?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When I would lay my arm upon the block,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And have it severed for his slightest good!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I’ll square your love by Reason’s rigid rule,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And test its source. Why do you love him so?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For benefit he has conferred, or may?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No, as the helpless babe, demanding care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You love him most. Your love is instinct then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And like the cow her calf, you love your child;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That you may care for him, before self moves.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then do you love him always just the same,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When rude and bad as when obedient?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I’ll dissect your love, and take away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each part affecting self; and see what’s left.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He now has grown beyond your instinct love;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You love him, first, because he is your son,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you would suffer blame, if you did not;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You love him, too, because he does reflect<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A credit on yourself. You feel assured<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That others thinking well of him, think well<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of you. Because it flatters all your pride<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To think so fine a life is part of yours;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because his high opinion of your worth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Evokes a meet return; because you look<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into the future, and see honors bright<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Awaiting you through him; because you feel<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The world is praising you for loving him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And would condemn you, did you not. And last,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You feel the pleasure deep of self-esteem,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because you fill the public’s and your own<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Romantic ideas of a mother’s love.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let each component part be now destroyed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And see if still you love him. As a man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He plunges into vice of vilest kinds;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His bright reflections on yourself are gone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And people think the worse of you, for him;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You never smile, but frown, upon him now,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But still you love him dearly! To his vice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He adds a crime, a foul and blasting crime;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your pride is gone, you feel a bitter shame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A score of opposites to love creep in;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A righteous anger at his foolish sins,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A just contempt for nature, weak as his;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But yet you love him fondly, for the world<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is lauding you for “mother’s holy love”;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you delight its clinging strength to show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You gain in public credit by your woes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And get the soothing martyr’s sympathy.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But let him still grow worse, and sink so low,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That people say you are disgraced through him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your warmest friends will not acquaintance own,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your love for such an object’s ridiculed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gains respect from none. Your only chance<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is to disown him. How you loud proclaim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“He’s not my child but by the accident<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of birth!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Do yet you love him in your heart?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This then because you think yourself so good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So heaven-like, for loving him disgraced,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You go to see him in the shameful jail;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He spits upon, and beats you from his cell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tells you that he hates your very name.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now all your love is gone, except the glow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of pity for him chained to dungeon floor;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But he’s released, and deeper goes in crime;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, lastly, Pity yields. Your heart is stone!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But love was only touched in selfish part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet should you still deny your love is self’s;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of several children, do you not love most<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The one whose conduct pleases most yourself?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But love, unselfish, never could be moved<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By anything affecting self alone.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The throbbing hearts of lovers beat for self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And this I’ll prove, though Pyramus may vow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He has no thought but Thisbe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Take away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love’s sensual part, which is an appetite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And therefore selfish, by its Nature’s law;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what remains is, first, a slight conceit<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At our discernment in the choice we’ve made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then a pride that we have won the prize;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A pride, that some one thinks we are the best;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A pleasure in her presence, too, we feel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because in every look she manifests<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her preference for us. This is flattering<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beyond all else that we have ever known.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A friend may raise our self-esteem, indeed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By showing constantly his own esteem,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But never can man’s vanity receive<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A higher tribute than a woman’s love!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This tribute, we, of course, reciprocate,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when together, we increase self-love<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By mutual words expressing our regard.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet when our love is deepest, if we find<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our Self is not so worshipped as we thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our love grows cold; and when we are not loved<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We cease to love. To illustrate permit:<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You’re on the topmost wave of fervid love&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A wilder flame than poets ever sung;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You’ve passed the timid declaration’s bounds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And revel in a full assured return.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There is no need for check upon your heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It has full leave to pour its gushing tide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of feeling forth, and meet responsive floods.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You meet her in the parlor’s solitude,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No meddling eye to watch the sacred scene.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The purple curtains hang their corded folds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before the tell-tale windows; closed the door,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sealed with softest list. The rich divan<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is drawn before the ruddy grate that glows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With red between the bars, and blue above.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You sit beside The Angel of your dreams,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gaze in adoration. What a form!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Revealed in faultless symmetry by robes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of rare, exquisite elegance, and taste,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That fit the tap’ring waist and arching neck.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And how superbly flow the torrents of her hair!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which she has shaken loose, because “it’s you<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</a></span>”;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her great brown eyes that gaze so dreamily<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the flowers of the vellum-screen<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That wards the fire from her tinted cheek!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One hollow foot, in dainty, bronze bootee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tapping the tufted lion on the rug;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A snowy hand with blazing solitaire&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pledge of your betrothal&mdash;nestling soft<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Within your own.<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">And thus you sit, and breathe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With tones so soft, because the ear’s so near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mutual confidence of little cares;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And how you longed for months to tell your love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But feared a cold rebuke; and how you dared<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To hope through all the gloom; and how you grieved<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At every favor shown to other men;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How now the clouds have flown away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all is brightness, joy, and tender love.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then drawing nearer, round the slender waist<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You pass an arm; and nestling cheek to cheek,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Palm throbbing palm, you hush all useless words,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thought meets thought, in silent love.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now and then, you leave the cheek, to kiss<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The coral lips; yet not with transient touch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But with a fervid, lingering pressure there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if you longed to force the lips apart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And drink the soul; while both her melting orbs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are drooped beneath your burning inch-near eyes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The parting hour must come. The good-night said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You rise to leave; and turning, at the door,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You see her head drooped on the sofa’s arm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You fancy she is sighing that you’re gone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And stealing back on tiptoe, gently raise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The beauteous face, and take it ’twixt your palms;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And gazing on the features radiant,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Distorted queerly by your pressing hands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You feel that life, the parting cannot bear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That you must stay forever there, or die!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Another effort, one more nectar sip,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You rush from out the room, and slam the door,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Just on the steps, you meet your rival’s face.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He has an easy confidence, and walks<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into the house, as if it were his own.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poor fellow! how you really pity him!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You can afford to be magnanimous,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And deprecate his certain, cruel fate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You murmur: “Well, he brings it on himself,”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And turn to go. The window’s near the ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And slightly raised. Although you know it’s mean,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You cannot now resist, but creep up near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with a finger part the curtain’s fringe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You see your darling run across the room<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With both extended hands, and hear her say:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Oh Fred! I am so very glad you’ve come,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I feared that stupid thing would never leave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I had to let him take my hand awhile,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mumble over it, to get him off.”<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">You grasp the iron railing for support,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, faint and dizzy with the agony<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of love’s departure, cling till all has fled;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then stagger home without a trace of love.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet only Self is touched; her beauty’s there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her sparkling wit, and her intelligence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her manner even, towards you, has not changed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, were you with her, she would be the same.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Love’s every motive disappeared with Self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No pride of conquest, no romance of thought;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You meet no sympathy, but ridicule!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A mother’s love may last through injury,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because it reaps the self’s reward of praise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For constancy, through wrong. The lover’s flame.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unless supplied with fuel-self, dies out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For, burning, ’twould deserve supreme contempt.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The less affairs of life are traced to Self.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The code of Etiquette, that Chesterfield<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Defines “Benevolence in little things,”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is but a scheme to give Self consciousness<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of excellence in breeding, and to keep<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Our Circle” sep’rate by its shibboleth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stately bow, the graceful sip of wine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The useless little finger’s dainty crook<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In lifting up the fragile Sevres cup,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The holding of the hat in morning calls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The touch of it when passing through the streets,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The drawing of a glove, the use of cane&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our every act is coupled with the thought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How well Self does all this.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Our very words<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are used to gratify the self. Men talk<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By preference, for they judge their words<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will gain them more applause than listening.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But if attention yields more fruit to Self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How patiently they hear the longest tale,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And laugh in glee at its insipid close!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If with superiors, we attend, because<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Attention pleases more with them than words;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But if inferiors, we must talk the most,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Since their attention flatters us so much.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cause of converse, Self, is oftenest food.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How few the talks that are not spiced with “I,”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What “I” can do, or did or will!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">Sometimes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Self is held, on purpose, up for jest;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As when men tell a joke upon themselves.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But here the shame of conduct or mishap<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is more than balanced by the hearty laugh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which gives its pleasant witness to our wit.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We never tell what will present ourselves<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In such an aspect laughter cannot heal;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Although it compliments our telling powers.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Attentions to the fair, but seek for Self<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their smiles of favor. Little deeds of love<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To those around us, look for their reward.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The youth polite, who gives his chair to Age,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Without a thought of Self,” is yet provoked,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If Age do not evince, by nod or smile,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His obligation to that unthought Self.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The very qualities we call innate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Arise and rule through Self. Our reverence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or tendency to worship, is to gain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A good. Religion grows this tendency<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into the various Churches, all whose ends<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are to secure eternal good for Self.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And those who preach that man does sacrifice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Himself for fellow-men, I ask, why none<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will give his soul for others’? Many give<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The paltry life on Earth for others’ good;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The very stones would cry “O! fool!” to him<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who’d yield his soul; for that is highest Self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And nothing e’er can compensate its loss.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In all these things, Self stands behind the scenes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And men see not the force that moves them on.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But in the boudoir, ’tis enthroned supreme,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And does not care to hide the cloven foot.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In every home, the marble and the log,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In mammoth trunks, and chests of simple pine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In rosewood cases, and the pasteboard box,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are crammed the slaves of Self, to poor and rich,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The clothes that, fine or common, feed its pride.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The velvets, satins, silken <i>robes de flamme</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The worsted, calico, and homespun stripe;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Guipure, Valenciennes, and Appliqué,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gimp, galloon, and shallow bias frill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Talmas, Arabs, basques and paletots,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The coarse plaid shawl, the hood, and woollen scarf;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The chignons, chatelaines, and plaited braids,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The beaded net, and tight-screwed knot of hair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dazzling jewels, ranged in season sets,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pinchbeck, gilt, and waxen trinketry;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tinted boots, half-way the silken hose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The shoes that tie o’er cotton blue-and-white;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The corset laced to hasten ready Death,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The leather belt, that cuts the broad, thick waist;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bosom heaving only waves of wire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bosom, cotton stuffed, beyond all shape;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The belladonna sparkling in the eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The finger tip, and water without soap;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rouge and carmine for the city cheeks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The berries’ ruddy juice for rural ones;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pearly powder, with its poisoned dust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cup of flour to ghastlify the face;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All these, and thousand fixtures none can count,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man’s vanity, and woman’s love of show,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Appropriate for Self.<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">And such is Man!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The puzzle of the Universe! Within,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A giant to himself; without, a babe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A giant that we cannot but despise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A babe we must admire for his power.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His mind, Promethean spark divine, can pierce<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The shadowy Past, and gaze in rapturous awe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the birth of worlds, that from the Mind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Eternal spring to blazing entities,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And whirl their radiant orbs through cooling space;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or place the earth beneath its curious ken,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with an “Open Sesame!” descend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into its rocky chambers, there unfold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stone archives, and read their graven truths&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Earth’s history written by itself therein&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How age by age, a globe of liquid fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It dimmer grew, and dark and stiff,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And drying, took a rough, uneven face;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Above the wave, the mountain’s smoking top<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Appeared, beneath it gaped the valley’s gorge;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But smoking still, it stood a gloomy globe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Naked and without life. And how the trees<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And herbs their robes of foliage brought; their form<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And life adapted to their heated bed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And how a stream of animation poured<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon its face, when ready to sustain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Great beasts who trod the cindered soil unscathed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tramped the fervid plains with unscorched soles.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Great fish whose hardened fins hot waters churned<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That steamed at every stroke. How periods passed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fields and forests teemed with gentler life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The waters wound in rivers to the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then spread their vap’ry wings and fled to land.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The oceans tossed in bondage patiently;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Volcanic mountains closed their festering mouths,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Earth made ready for her master, Man.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It traces Man, expelled from Paradise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Along the winding track of centuries.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It marks his slow development, from two,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To families, and tribes, and nations vast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It gazes on the wondrous scenes of war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And peace, and battle plain, and civic game;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lives through each, with all of real life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Except the body’s presence there. It turns<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From man to beasts and birds, and careless strokes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lion’s mane, the humbird’s scarlet throat.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It tracks the mammoth to his jungle home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or creeps within the infusoria’s cell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It measures Earth from pole to pole, or weighs<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bit of brass, that lights the battery spark.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is Earth too small, it plumes its flight through space;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From world to world, as bird from twig to twig,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It flies, and furls its wing upon their discs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To tell their weight, and giant size, or breathe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their very air to find its gaseous parts.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now bathing in pale Saturn’s misty rings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or chasing all the moons of Jupiter<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Behind his darkened cone. The glorious sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With dazzling vapor robe, and seas of fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose cyclones dart the forkèd flames far out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To lap so hungrily amid the stars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is but its playhouse, where it rides the storms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That sweep vast trenches through the surging fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In which the little Earth could roll unseen;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or bolder still, beyond our system’s bounds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It soars amid the wilderness of worlds;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Finds one condemned to meet a doom of fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And makes its very flames inscribe their names,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In dusky lines, upon the spectroscope.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With shuddering thought to see a world consumed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fate prepared for ours, it lingers there<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until the lurid conflagration dies.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then seeks Earth, and leaves the laggard,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To plod its journey vast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">The smallest mote<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of dust that settles on an insect’s wing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It can dissect to atoms ultimate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With these, too small for sight, may Fancy deal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And revel in her Lilliputian realm.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These atoms forming all, by Boscovitch<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are proved, in everything, to be alike;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ultimate, since indivisible.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each in its place maintained by innate force<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And relatively far from each, as Earth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From Sun.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Suppose, then, each to be a world,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Peopled with busy life, a human flood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As earnest in their little plans as we,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As grand in their opinion of themselves!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! what a depth of contrast for the mind!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The finest grain of sand, upon the beach,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has in its form a million perfect worlds!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or take the other scale, suppose the Earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our great and glorious Earth, to only form<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The millionth atom of some grain of sand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That shines unnoticed on an ocean’s shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose waves wash o’er our whirling stars and sun<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Too insignificant to feel their surge.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Another step on either side, and mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In flesh, shrinks from the giant grasp.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet noble are its pinions, strong their flight;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thrice, only, do they droop their baffled strength,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before the Future, Infinite, Abstract!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The first is locked, the second out of reach,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The third a maze that none can penetrate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The first, alone to inspiration opes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The second dashed to Earth her boldest wing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spinoza’s, who essayed the idea God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And grappling bravely with the grand concept,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So far above the utmost strength of Man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Placed God’s existence in extent and thought;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And filled all space with God. The Universe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A bud or bloom of the Eternal Mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That opens like a flower into this form,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And may retract Creation in Itself!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alas! that effort so sublime should end<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In mystery and doubt.<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">A Universe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How vast so ever, has its bounds somewhere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Space possesses none, and God in Space,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would be so far beyond Creation’s speck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He scarce would know it did exist. That part<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Mind, expressed in matter, would be lost<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amid the Infinite domains of thought.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet Man in flesh, the casket of the mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose wondrous power I’ve told, is ever chained,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A grovelling worm, to Earth, and never leaves<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sod where he must lie. No time is his<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But present; not a mem’ry of the past.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His very food, while in his mouth, alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tastes good. He stands a dummy in the world,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That only acts when acted on. How great<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mystery of union ’tween the two!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A feather touches not the body, but the mind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perceives it; yet the mind may live through scenes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The body never knew, nor can. Yet not<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With vivid life&mdash;the sense is lacking there.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The memory of a banquet may be plain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So that the daintest dish could be described,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As well as if the eye and tongue were there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The eye and tongue, alone the present know,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And find no good in anything that’s past.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All thought is folly, every path is dark;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Truth gleaming fairly in the distant haze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On near approach becomes the blackest lie.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man and his soul may go, nor will I fret<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To learn their mystic bonds. A worm I am,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And worm I must remain, till Death shall burst<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The chrysalis, and free the web-wound wings.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet, oh! ’twere grand to spurn the clogging Earth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cleave the air towards yonder looming cloud;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To stand upon its red-bound crest and dare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The storm-king’s wildest wrath.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i12">My thoughts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grew dull, my eyelids slowly closed, the scene<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Became confused and melted into sleep.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63">{63}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And far up in the blue, as yet untouched<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By clouds, I saw a white descending speck.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Methought ’twas but a feather from the breast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of some migrating swan, that Earthward fell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And watched to see it caught upon the wind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sail a tiny kite to fairy land.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But circling down, the speck became a dove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A heron, then a swan, and larger still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till I could mark a pair of great white wings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Between which hung its wondrous form. Still down<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It swept, till scarce above the trees it stood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Resting on quivering wings, as if it sought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A place to ’light. I saw then what it was,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A steed of matchless beauty, agile grace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Combined with muscled strength; but ere I drew<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The first long breath, that follows such surprise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It gently downward swooped, and at my feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With dainty hoof, the turf impatient pawed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enrapt, I gazed upon its beauteous form,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its sculptured head, and countenance benign,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The soft sad eyes, the arrow-pointed ears,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The scarlet nostrils opening like two flowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sinewed neck, curved like a swimming swan’s,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The splendid mane, a cataract of milk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That poured its foaming torrents half to Earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tap’ring limbs, tipped with pink-hued hoofs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That touched our soil with a proud disdain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dazzling satin coat, and netting veins,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64">{64}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And last the glorious wings, whose feathers lapped<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like scales of creamy gold. What seemed a cloth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of woven snow, with richest silver fringe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Draped with its gorgeous folds the shining flanks.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It was perfection’s type, the absolute,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not one defect; the tiniest hair was smooth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The smallest feather’s edge unfrayed. The eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without the slightest bloodshot fleck, or mote.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No fault the microscope could have revealed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though magnifying many million times.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So great my wonder, that I could not move,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But lay entranced, while he stood waiting there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till wearied with my long delay, he raised<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His wings half-way, and eager trembled them,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As bluebirds do when near their mate; a neigh<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of trumpet tone aroused me. Then I sprang<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon his back, and wildly shouted “On!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A spring with gathered feet, a clash of wings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That made me cling in terror, and we swept<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From Earth into the air. Woods, plains, and streams<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Flashed by beneath, as, up and on, we charged<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Straight to the frowning cloud.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">My very brain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Reeled with our lightning speed, and dizzy height,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And oh! how silent was the air. No sound,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Except the steady beat of fanning wings,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65">{65}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That hurled us on a rod at every stroke.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bellowing winds were loosed and fiercely met<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our flight. They tossed the broad white mane across<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My shrinking shoulders, like a scarf of silk;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They blew the strong-quilled feathers all awry,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And like a banner beat the silvered cloth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But swerving not to right or left, we pressed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Straight onward to the goal.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">At last I reined<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My steed upon the shaggy ridge of clouds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And caracoled along the beetling cliffs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up to the very summit. Then I paused.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Behind me lay the world with all its hum<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of life, the distant city’s veil of smoke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The village gleaming white amid the trees;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The very orchard I had left, now seemed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A downy nest of green, and far away<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I caught the shimmer of the sea, where sails,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With glidings, glittered like the snowy gulls.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Behind all was serene, before me seethed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The caldron of the tempest’s wrath.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Thick clouds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thrice tenfold blacker than the black outside<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We see, deep in the crackling fire-crypts writhed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And boiling rose and fell. A deafening blast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Roaring its thunder voice above the scene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if the fiends of Hell concocted there<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66">{66}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The scalding beverage of the damned.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">My horse<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had snuffed the fumes, and rearing on the brink,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That fearful brink, an instant pawed the air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then sprang off. A suffocating plunge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through heat and blinding smoke, while to his neck<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Convulsively I clung! Down through the cloud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until I gasped for breath, and felt my brain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was bursting with the fervid weight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">He stopped<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before a large pavilion, round whose walls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As faithful guard, a whirlwind fierce revolved,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at whose folded door, with dazzling blade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lightning stood a sentinel. My steed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was passport, and I passed within, but stopped<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the threshold, dumb with awe. The walls<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seemed blazing mirrors, whose bright polished sides<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Threw back in flaming lineaments” the form<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of every object there,&mdash;a trembling wretch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With pallid countenance, shown ghastly red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon a horse of War’s own direful hue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I saw reflected there. The floor seemed made<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of tesselated froth, whose bubbles burst,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With constant hissing, into rainbow sparks;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While like the sulph’rous canopy, that drapes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At evening’s close, a gory battle-field,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67">{67}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The roof of crimson vapor drooped and rose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With every breath and every slightest sound.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in the center of the glowing room,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon a sapphire throne an Angel sat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon whose brow Rebuke and Wisdom met.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He gazed upon me with such pitying look,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet withal so stern, that all my pride<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was gone, and humble as a conquered child,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I ran with trembling haste and near the throne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kneeled down.<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">“Vain man,” he said, “and hast thou dared<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To doubt the providence of God; Behold!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, lo! one side of the pavilion rose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And out before me lay Immensity.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The frothy floor, now crumbling from the edge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dissolved away close to my very feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The walls contracted their three sides in one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I, beside a throne I dared not grasp,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stood on a narrow ledge of fragile foam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That clicked its thousand little globes of air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With every motion of my feet.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Far down<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Below, the black abyss of chaos yawned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So vast, I gasped while gazing, and so deep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Sun’s swift arrowy rays flash down for years,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And scarcely reach the dark confines, or fade<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amid the impenetrable gloom. Methought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Twas Hell’s wide jaws, that opened underneath<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68">{68}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Universe, to catch as crumbs the worlds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Condemned, and shaken from their orbit’s track.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And long I looked into the vast black throat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To trace the murky glow of hidden fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or catch the distant roar. But all was still;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No murmur broke the silence of its gloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No faintest glimmer told of lurking light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No smoky volumes curdled in its depths;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As dark as Egypt’s plague, serenely calm,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Defying light, the empty hall of Space,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where twinkled not a star nor blazed a sun.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A grand eternal night!<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">I shuddering turned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With freezing blood to think of falling there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And stretched a palsied hand to touch the throne.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Angel’s eye was sterner, as he waved<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Towards my steed, who seemed of marble carved.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wings unfolded, and he leaped in air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beating from off the ledge the flakes of foam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That sank, with airy spirals, out of sight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With slanting flight across the gulf he sheared;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The moveless wings were not extended straight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But stood, at graceful angle, o’er his back,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As, swifter than a swooping kite, he flashed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Adown the gloom. His flowing mane broad borne<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Out level, like another wing; his feet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With slow ellipses moving alternate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if he trod an unseen path. ’Twas grand<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69">{69}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see his graceful form, more snowy white<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Against the black relief, sublimely float<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Across the dark profound, and down its depths,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pass from my view. As when an Eagle soars<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beyond our vision in the azure sky,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We wonder what he sees, or whither flies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So I stood wondering if he would return,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what his destination down th’ abyss.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Above, around, all was infinitude<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of light and harmony. The worlds moved on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In mazy multitude, without a jar,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Star circling planet, planet sun, and suns<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In systems, farther yet and farther still,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till multiplying millions mingled formed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A sheet of milky hue. And far beyond<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The last pale star, appeared a dazzling spot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That flamed with brightness so ineffable<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The eye shrank ’neath its gleam. And from its light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Athwart the endless realms of space, there streamed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A radiance that illumed the Universe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And down across the chasm of Chaos flung<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A wavering band of purple and of gold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in that distant spot my ’wildered eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Traced out the figure of a Great White Throne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Round which, in grand and solemn majesty,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70">{70}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Slow swept Creation’s boundless macrocosm.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I felt too insignificant to pray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But mutely waited for the Angel’s words.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He spoke not, but the curtains closer drew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And left a narrow opening in front.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then with a speed the lightning ne’er attained,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our cloud pavilion swiftly whirled through space.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A seed that would have slain me with its haste,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had not the Angel been so near.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">As on the cars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We dash through towns, and mark the hurrying lights,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or shudder at an engine rattling by;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So through our door, I marked the countless worlds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In clustering systems, chained by gravity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Flash by an endless course. A second’s time<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sufficed to pass our little group of stars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That waltz about our Sun, as if it lit<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The very Universe. Then systems came,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Round which our system moves, and these<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Round others, till the series grew so vast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I shrank from looking. Great Alcyone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our telescopic giantess, a babe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amid the monsters of the starry tribe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The last familiar face in Heaven’s throng,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blazed by the door; an instant, out of sight!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And after all that we have known or named<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71">{71}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On Earth were far behind, the millions came<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In endless multitude; and on we swept,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till worlds became a dull monotony,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the wonders of the Heavens were shown.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A planet wheels its huge proportions past,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its pimpled face with red volcanoes thick,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That, with our speed, seem girdling bands of light;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A Sun, whose flame would fade our yellow spark,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Roars out a moment at our narrow door<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As through its blaze we fly, then dies away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Casting a weird and momentary gleam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Over the Angel’s unrelenting face;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A meteor tears its whizzing way along,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All showering off the scintillating sparks<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That mark its trail. Far off, a comet runs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its bended course, the mighty fan-like tail<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lit with a myriad globes of dancing fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That seemed like Argus’ eyes on Juno’s bird.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on we sped, till one last Sun appeared,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A monstrous hemisphere of concave shape,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And brilliancy intense; it seemed to stand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On great Creation’s bounds, a lense of light.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Close by its vast red rim we shaved, and passed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beyond, to empty space unoccupied.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No world, no sun, no object passed the door;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The steady blue, tinged with a brightening gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alone was seen. Still on and on we flew,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72">{72}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until a score of ages seemed elapsed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I had near forgotten Earth and home.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And yet the air grew brighter, till I feared<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That we approached a sun, so infinite<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In light, that I should sink in dazzled death.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We came to rest, the curtains fell away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lo! I stood within the light of Heaven.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And oh! its glorious light! No angry red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor blinding white, nor sickly yellow glare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But one vast golden flood, sublime, serene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No object near, on which it could reflect,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It formed the very atmosphere itself,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An air in which the soul could bathe and breathe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ever live without its fleshly food.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">No object near, for on the farthest bounds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of space immense as mortal can conceive,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Creation hung, a group of clustering motes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where only suns were seen as tiny specks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Earth and smaller stars were out of sight.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No object near, for farther than the motes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The walls of Heaven, in glorious grandeur loomed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet near as flesh and blood could bear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">How grand!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From infinite to infinite extent<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The glittering battlements were spread, the height<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73">{73}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Above conception, built of purest gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet gold transparent, for I could discern<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though indistinctly, domes and spires beyond,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the wondrous workmanship divine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That blazed with jewels, flashing varied hues<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In perfect union; and bright happy fields,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That bloomed with flowers immortal, in whose midst<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The crystal river ran. And through the scenes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thronged million forms, that each sought happiness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From million varied, purified desires.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each face serenely bright as Evening’s star,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And some I thought I knew, were dear to me;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But as I gazed, they ever disappeared.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Along the walls, twelve gates of pearl were seen,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So great their breadth, and high their jewelled arch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Earth could almost trundle in untouched,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in each arch was fixed a giant bell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of silver, with a golden tongue that hung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A pendant sun. So wide the silver lips,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Chimularee plucked up by the roots,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as a clapper swung within its circ,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would tinkle, like a pebble, noiselessly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Against the rigid side. And as the saved<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were brought in teeming host, by Angel bands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before the gates, the bells began their swing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to and fro the ponderous tongue was hurled,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74">{74}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till through the portals marched the shouting throng,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then it fell against the bounding side.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And loud and long their booming thunder<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rends the golden air asunder,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the ransomed, passing under,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fall in praise beneath the bells,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose mighty throbbing welcome tells;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the Angels hush their harps in wonder&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bells of Heaven, glory booming bells!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Gentler now, the silver’s shiver<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Purls the rippling waves that quiver<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through the ether’s tide forever,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Mellow as they left the bells,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose softening vibrate welcome tells;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the quavers play adown the river&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bells of Heaven, softly sobbing bells!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then the dreamy cadence dying,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sings as soft as zephyrs sighing;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faintest echoes cease replying<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To the murmur of the bells,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Whose stilling tremor welcome tells,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faintly as the snow-flakes falling, lying&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bells of Heaven, dreamy murmuring bells!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And in and out those Gates of Pearl, there streamed<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75">{75}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A ceaseless throng of Angels, errand bound.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From one came forth a band of choristers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With shining harps, and sweeping out through space,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their long white lines bent gracefully, they sang.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Although so far away, that purest air<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Brought every note exquisite to my ear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Twas richly worth life’s toil, to catch one bar<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Heavenly melody. Oh! I would give<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My pitiful existence, once again<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To hear the strains that floated to me then,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So full, so deep, so ravishingly sweet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now gentle as a mother’s lullaby,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They almost died away, then louder rose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And rolled their volumes through the boundless realms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That trembled with the diapason grand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until eternal echoes caught the strain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And glory in the highest swelled sublime.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Entranced, I lay with ’wildered half-closed eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till from another gate, another host<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Marched forth, the armies of the living God.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath their thunder-tread all Heaven shook,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And at their head the tall Archangel strode.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How grandly terrible his mien! His face<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lit with a soul that only kneels to Three;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lofty brows drawn slightly to a frown<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76">{76}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The eyes that beam with vast intelligence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The depths of distance piercing with their glance;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The chiselled lips, compressed with stern resolve,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet marked with lines and curves of tender love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That ever with a sigh Wrath’s vial broke<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the doomed. His splendid form so tall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That as he paused a moment in the gate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His dazzling crest just grazed the silver bell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He wore no arms nor armor, save a sword<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without a sheath, that blazed as broad and bright<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As sunset bars that shear the zenith’s blue&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A sword, that falling flatly on the host<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Xerxes, would have crushed them as we crush<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A swarm of ants. An edge-stroke on the Earth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would gash the rocky shell to caverned fire.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unfolding wings would shake a continent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He floated down the depths. Behind him came<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A million foll’wers, counterparts in all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save presence of command.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">I wondered not<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That one should breathe upon the Syrian might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And still the sleeping hearts, four thousand score.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And from Creation’s little corner came<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Guardian Angels, bearing in their arms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their charges during life. As laden bees,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They flew to Heaven’s hive; and some passed by<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So closely I their burdens could discern;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77">{77}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And though they came from far-off, unseen Earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stiffened forms were borne all tenderly.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some bore the dimpled babe, with soft-closed eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if upon its mother’s breast; its hands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unhardened yet by toil of life, its face<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unfurrowed yet by care’s sharp plough; and some<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The age-bent form, with ghostly silvered hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And features gaunt in death, that would have seemed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A hideous sight, in any light but Heaven’s;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some bore the rich, who made of Mammon friends,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who wore the purple with a stainless soul;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some bore the poor, who mastered poverty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And broke the ashen crust beneath God’s smile;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their work-worn hands now folded peacefully,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And passing towards the harp, the weary feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So often blistered in life’s bitter dust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To tread with kings the golden streets of Heaven;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And some the maiden form bore lovingly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So fair, they seemed twin sisters.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And I saw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That, passing through the amber air, they caught<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its glowing dust upon them, and were changed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The livid to the radiant. Then as they<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Approached the City, all the walls were thronged,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all the harps were throbbing to be swept.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mid the throng there moved a dazzling Form,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78">{78}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The jewels of whose crown were shaped like thorns.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He stood to welcome, and the gates unclosed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And passing through them, all the death sealed eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were opened, and they lived!<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And then I knew<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What happiness could mean. To leave the Earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With all its torturing pains and ills of flesh;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lingering, long disease, the wasted frame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, e’en in health, the constant dread of death,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That like the sword of Damocles impends,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And none may tell its fall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And worse than flesh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tortures of the mind in fetters bound;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its chafings at its puling impotence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its longing after things beyond its reach,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its craving after knowledge never given,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its constant discontent with present time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its looking towards a future, that but breaks<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To light alone in distance, never near;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its maddening retrospect o’er wasted life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And loss of golden opportunities;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its consciousness of merit none admit,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its sense of gross injustice from the world;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The forced reflections on the sway of self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And consequent contempt for all mankind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or shameful servitude to their regard;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79">{79}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The poisoned thorns, that skirt the “Narrow Way”;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The sneering laugh, the tongue of calumny,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The envious spites and hates ’tween man and man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The doubts that swarm with thought about our soul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That whispers all our labor here is vain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That death is but extinction, Heaven a myth!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To leave all these, and find a perfect life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To know that Heaven is sure eternally,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That sickness ne’er again will waste our frame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That death shall never come again. The mind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In perfect peace and happiness; the hidden<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Spread out before its ken; a sweet content<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pervading every thought, because “just now”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yields happiness as great as future years;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because Life’s highest end is now attained.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The consciousness of merit, with reward<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Surpassing far all we deserved. A Home<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of perfect peace, no envious spite or hate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Within its sacred walls, but all pure love<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Towards our fellows, gratitude to God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A gratitude that all Eternal life<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will not suffice to prove. ’Twere joy enough<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To lie before the Throne, and ever cry<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our thanks for mercy so supreme! And oh!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The vast tranquillity of those who feel<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That life on Earth is ended, Heaven gained!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80">{80}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Angel marked my gaze of rapt delight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And said, “Wouldst thou go nearer?” Swift as light<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We moved towards the City. On the steps,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In dreamy ecstasy, I lay, afraid to move,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lest all the panorama should dissolve.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I cared not that I was unfit to go,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I cared not that I must return to Earth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I felt one moment in the Golden walls<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was worth a dungeon’s chains “threescore and ten.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The glory of its music, and its light,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grew too intense, and sense forsook my brain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Again my eyes unclosed, and ’mid the stars,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Familiar faces of the telescope,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We sped, while on the last confines of space,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The City lay with golden halo girt.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The systems passed, we neared old homelike Earth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And far enough to take a hemisphere<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At single glance, we paused. The little globe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was puffing on, like Kepler’s idea-beast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With breath like tides, and echo sounds of life;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus trundling on its journey round the sun<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While o’er its back swarmed men the parasites.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As rustic lad, who visits some great town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Returns ashamed of humble country home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So I now blushed to own the world I’d thought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was once so great.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">The Angel pointed down,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81">{81}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And said, “Behold the vast domains of Earth!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Behold the wondrous works of man, that calls<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Himself the measure of the Universe!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those gleaming threads are rivers, and the pools<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His boundless oceans. Those slow-gliding dots<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gallant ships, in which he braves the storms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The largest white one, see, is laboring now<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath a cloud, your hand from here might span;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What tiny tossings, like a jasmine’s bloom<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That drifts along the ripples of a brook!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now on the wave, now ’neath it, now ’tis gone;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pool hath gulfed it like a flake of snow.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">See, there are railroad lines, what works of art!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou canst not see the blackened threadlike tracks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But thou mayst see the thundering train, that creeps<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Across the landscape like a score of ants<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Well laden, tandem, crawl across the floor.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Twill take a day to reach yon smoky patch<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of pebbles! ’Tis a great metropolis!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where Man is proud in power and lasting strength;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where Art hath budded into perfect bloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where towering domes defy the touch of Time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And rock-ribbed structures reck not of his scythe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On every side, proclaimed Creation’s lord,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poor flattered Man the title proudly takes&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One little gap of Earth, and not a spire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would lift its gilded vane; the very dust<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would never rise above the chasm’s mouth.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82">{82}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mark yon crowd outside the city’s bounds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They hail Man’s triumph over Nature’s laws;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He conquers gravity, and dares to fly!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The speck-like globe slow rises in the air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While all the throng below shout, “God-like Man!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How pitiful! The flag-decked car but drags<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its way, a finger’s breadth above their heads,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And falls, a few leagues off, into the sea;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When ships must rescue Man, the king of air!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“He soon will touch the stars,” enthusiasts cry;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His highest flights ne’er reach the mountain-top,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That lifts its mole-hill head above the plain.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">What different views above and underneath!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From one, the silken pear cleaves through the cloud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And floats, beyond your vision, in the blue,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And franchised Man no longer wears Earth’s chain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The other sees him drifting o’er the ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath the level of the hills around,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The captive still of watchful gravity.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Upon yon strip of land, two insect swarms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are drawn up, front to front, in serried lines;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These are the armies, ’neath whose trampling tread<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The very Earth doth tremble, now they join<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In dreadful conflict. From the battling ranks<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Leap tiny bits of flame, and puffs of smoke,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where thundering cannon belch their carnage forth;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83">{83}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The heated missile cleaves its sparkling way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The screaming shell its smoke-traced curve; the sword<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gleams redly with the varnish of its blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bayonets like ripples on a lake.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How palsied every arm, how still each heart!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If one discharge of Heaven’s artillery roared<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Above their heads&mdash;not that faint mutter thou<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perchance hast heard from some electric cloud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when a meteor curves immensity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bursts in glittering fragments that would dash<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy world an atom from their path. But God<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hath thrown the blanket of His atmosphere<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Around the Earth, and shield, it from the jar<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of pealing salvos, that reverberate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through Heaven’s illimitable dome.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Yet thou,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The meanest of thy race of worms, hast dared<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To question God’s designs. Know then that He<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ordains that all, His glory shall work out.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The coral architect beneath the wave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doth magnify Him, as the burning sun<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That lights a thousand worlds. His power directs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mechanism of a Universe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose vastness thou hast been allowed to see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet the mottled sparrow in the hedge<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Falls not without His notice. Magnitude<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is not the seal of power, though man thinks so;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84">{84}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The least brown feather of the sparrow’s wing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In adaptation to its end displays<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">God’s wisdom, as the ocean. Harmony<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is Heaven’s watchword, key to all designs.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A tendency towards perfection’s end<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pervades Creation; to this perfect end,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The polity Divine is leading Earth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Endowed with reason, Man, perforce, is free;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And God, forseeing how he’ll freely act,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Adjusts all circumstance accordingly.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The order of this sequence, Man doth learn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In part; adapts himself to these fixed laws;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus is formed a general harmony.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Although the individual may oppose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His forseen freedom, acting in a net<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of circumstance, secures the wished-for end.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bloodiest wars are sources of great good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Invasive floods rouse national energies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or, mingling, form a greater people still;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hume’s skepticism foils its own design,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And rouses lusty champions of the Truth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who build its walls far stronger than before.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Poor sordid Man! like all your gold-slave race,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You deem wealth happiness. Hence, all your doubts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About God’s providence are based on gold.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wicked have it, and the righteous not.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What you assert is oftenest reversed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in a census of the world, you’d find<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85">{85}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The good, in every land, the wealthiest.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Earth is not the bar where Man is judged;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But only where free-will and circumstance<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May join in general progress. Gold is good!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then good depends on use of circumstance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And not on moral merit. Well ’tis so!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For were the righteous only blessed, all men<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would righteousness pursue, from sordid aims,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The most devout, who love their money best;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And thus good actions’ essence would be lost,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That they be done for good, within itself,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And not for benefit to be conferred.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then for your doubts about the righteous poor;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A certain law is fixed for general good,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some actions yield a gain and some a loss.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A wicked man may use the first, and gain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A righteous man may use the last, and lose;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wicked does not gain by wickedness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But by compliance with this natural law.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The righteous, still as righteous, might have gained<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By different course of conduct, had he known;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But his condition now, can but be changed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By special miracle; but miracles,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In favor of the righteous, would destroy<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All strife for good as good.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their compensation in another world;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">The poor may find<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86">{86}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And even here, in consciousness of right,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In surety of Heav’n, and peace of mind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in the case you’ve stated, like all those<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who talk as you have done, you overdraw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And color more with Fancy than with Truth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You’ll find no widow, perfect in her trust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As you’ve described, who is so destitute.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Go search the lanes and alleys; where you find<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The greatest squalor, there is greatest crime;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For poverty is oftenest but a name<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For reckless vice, and vile depravity.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your case is but exception to the rule,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And not the rule, of Providence. To give<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The righteous, only, wealth and worldly store<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would take away Man’s freedom, and all good.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But I will answer in your folly’s mode.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The justice, then, of Nature’s laws you doubt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Forgetting they are fixed for general good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And not for individual. These laws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In their effects, you praise as very good;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet, in their causes, call the most unjust.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fertile fields, with grain for man’s support,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are nourished by a miasmatic air,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That, sickening but a few, feeds all the world.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While, were the air all pure, a few were well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And millions starving. In the tropics, too,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The scenes you deprecate, themselves but cause<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87">{87}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The very beauties you admire. Unjust,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You would enjoy effects without a cause.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The goods of Nature often take their rise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From what to man proves evil. For the goods,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He makes his mind to meet the evils; then<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can he complain, or think it hard to bear?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Nature’s dealings towards Man are just.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He knows that he is free, and Nature not;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If he opposes Nature’s laws and falls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is Nature to be blamed? The widow’s cot<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is frail; the laws of general good require<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A storm; it comes, and shattered falls the cot.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should God have saved it by a miracle,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then all His people could demand the same,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Earth would soon become the bar of God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">God may exert a special providence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Man may not detect it, as the rule<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Invariable of life, and still be free;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For he were thus compelled to seek the good.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then Nature, over Man, holds not a tyranny,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But keeps the perfect pandect of her laws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Man is free to obey them, or oppose.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Like shallow-thoughted reasoners of Earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You make assertions without slightest proof,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or faintest shade of truth. Your thesis, this:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">God marks with disapproval all the good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And blesses all the evil with His smile.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88">{88}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Entirely false in every case! The good<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are ever happiest, in peace of mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In ease of conscience, and the hope of Heaven.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wicked may be even rich, but wealth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And happiness are far from synonyms.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is happiness the child of circumstance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or is it not the offspring of the mind?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if the mind be tranquil and serene,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Does happiness not follow everywhere?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cause of doubt in you, and many more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is that the thousands who profess the good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are ever mourning their unhappy lot,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And sighing o’er the gloomy, narrow way;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tribulation of the promise read,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without its good cheer context. These are they<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who stamp with misery’s blackest seal, a life<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of righteousness. By these you cannot judge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For they are not what they profess, and would<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be miserable in Heaven, unless changed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But take the truly good, one who’s content<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To take whate’er befalls, submissively;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who feels assured that all works for the best;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take him, in all conditions, rich or poor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In sickness or in health, in pain or ease;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Compare your happy wicked, with his gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Twill not require a moment to decide<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which one is happier!<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Again, you ask<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89">{89}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why Man was not created happy, and kept so?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His very freedom and intelligence<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Prevents a forcèd happiness. The ends<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of all Creation would be marred, and Man<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lose personality. A happiness<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Made universal, asks morality<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That’s universally compelled; and lost<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is all the scheme of virtue and reward.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man, forced to action would degenerate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into a listless, lifeless thing; the world<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lose all its fine machinery of thought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Combined with action. Beautiful variety<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could not exist, dull sameness would be life.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Man is placed, with free intelligence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amid surroundings from which he may cull<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A happiness intense, whate’er their nature be.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If bright, the consciousness they are deserved;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If gloomy, sweet reflections that they drape<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A future all the brighter for their gloom.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But Man, within himself, your puzzle proves;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And not to you alone, for Angel wings<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Have hovered o’er your globe, and Angel minds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Peered curiously into his soul, to learn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its mysteries, in vain. The Mind Supreme<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That formed the soul, alone can understand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its wondrous depths. ’Tis not surprising then<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Man has tried in vain to know himself.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90">{90}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His mind, compared with his body, seems so great,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He deems its power unlimited. He finds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It weak, before the barriers of thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That gird it, mountain high, on every side.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No path can he pursue that’s infinite.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And few exist, that do not thither lead.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hence all the vagaries that have obtained<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Among your race. The doubt of everything,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is only too far tracing of a thought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into absurdity intense. If you<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deem all the world effect upon yourself,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A principle of fairness would demand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That you accord the right to other men.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The question then arises, who is he<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That really does exist, and all the rest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His ideas? Sure your neighbor has the right<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To claim the honor, just as well as you!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hume’s foolish thought, extended to its length,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will answer not a single end of life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And terminates in nonsense none believe.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The conflict of the mental powers defeats<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your inquiries. You cannot reconcile<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The unruled circumstance, with Man’s free-will<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You deem the motive free, and Man its slave;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if the motive, unintelligent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could have a freedom, or a slavery!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91">{91}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You make the motive to exist within the mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When it, perforce, must be without. You get<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The unruled motive from the circumstance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When this itself must act upon the mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if <i>free</i> motives rise within the mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They are a <i>part</i>, and therefore <i>mind</i> is free.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what you deemed a motive to the mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was mental action, and its modes of thought.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The motive is confined to circumstance,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And mind the circumstance can oft control,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And even when it cannot, acts at will.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The mind may to a kingdom be compared,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where Reason occupies the throne. Beneath<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its scepter bow, in perfect vassalage,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The faculties, desires, and appetites.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These then are acted on by motive powers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And straight report the action to their king,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who does impartially decide for each.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The unruled motive is without the mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And forms no part of it, although the parts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Receiving motive action, so are called.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus when you hunger, the desire of food,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Confined to mind, is not a motive power;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But urged by motive bodily demand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It tells the need to Reason, who decides.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus when you pare your peach, the tempting fruit<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fleshly need, move on the appetite,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92">{92}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who begs the Reason for consent to eat;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your friend’s opinion of your self-control,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is motive to Desire of esteem,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who begs the Reason to refuse consent.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Reason, then, like righteous judge, decrees<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In favor of that one, more strongly shown;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And feels a perfect freedom in its choice.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">’Tis most unfair to wait the action’s end,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then cry, the mind was forced to choose this act;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But choice is Reason’s free decree. Sometimes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Reason errs, and evil then ensues;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But Reason, now more conscious that ’tis free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Regrets it had not acted otherwise.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By knowing what your reason deems the best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You judge how other men will act. You learn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By intercourse, what they permit to change<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Reason’s sentence. So, while with a friend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You show your wealth, because you know he’s free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And can, and will, resist impulse to crime.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were he not free, you’d dare not go alone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With him, for, any moment, might arise<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A motive irresistible, and he<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would kill and rob, because that motive’s slave.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were he not free, you were no more secure,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In pleasant parlance, than on desert isle.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The laws are made for man, alone, as free.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93">{93}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For, otherwise, the motives they present<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were blind attempts so coincide with Fate.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They would complete the gross absurdity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Man collective governing himself,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And therefore free, while individuals<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are helpless slaves of motives they but aid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To furnish.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Fate, as held in fullest form,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yourself has proved the theory of fools;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For were it true, a blind passivity<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were Man’s perfection on the Earth. Compare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The two; Free-will as held, whate’er their faith,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By every one, in daily practices;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A world of harmony, for very wars<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yield good; a mechanism complicate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That even Angels, wondering at, admire;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A world, whose wondrous progress is maintained<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By practical belief in liberty.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And on the other hand, behold a world<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of universal inactivity!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its millions starving for delinquent Fate;&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I doubt your faith would last till dinner-time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A morning’s lapse would change a hungry globe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To firm belief in free-will work for food.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">With many, God’s foreknowledge binds free-will;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He knows the future, how each man will act,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And man can never change from what God knows.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94">{94}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They reason thus, that prescience is decree,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what God knows will happen, must take place.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That God may know the future of <i>free</i>-will<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I prove by this. Suppose two worlds alike,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And governed by two Gods. Each one can see,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And foresee all transpires in both the worlds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet each o’er th’ other’s world exerts no power.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A man in one does wrong; the other God<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May have foreseen the action for an age,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet had not slightest power to cause or stop.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Does his foreknowledge qualify the act?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If thus you can suppose, why not believe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When errors flow from opposite belief?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">God in the future stands, and waits for man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who works the present, only gift of Time.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There is no future save in God’s own mind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man’s future means continued present time;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">God’s future is but present time to Him,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In which He lives, not will live when it comes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man’s acts He sees as done, not to be done.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And God compels not more than Man does Man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who sees his fellow’s deeds, not causes them.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man only knows Man’s present acts; but God<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The future sees, as present to His mind.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To end with perfect proof, you know you’re free.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This all the world attests, and each believes.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How subtle soe’er may his reasoning be,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_95" id="page_95">{95}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He contradicts it throughout all his life;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And all his plans, and all the right and wrong<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of self and friends he bases on free-will.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If disbelief no inconvenience prove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Few men believe what is not understood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet the most familiar things of life<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are far beyond their comprehensions’ power.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who understands the turning of the food<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To sinew, muscle, blood, and bone? yet who<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will starve because he knows not how ’tis done?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who understands the mystery of birth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when and where the soul originates?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet a million mothers bend, to-day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">O’er tender babes, and know that they exist;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A billion people know they once were born.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who understands the mystery of death,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And how the soul is severed from its clay?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet who has not wept o’er departed ones,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Received the dying clasp, the dying look,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And known, full well, Death’s bitter, bitter truth?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">None comprehends the movement of a limb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet many boast the powers of their’s might.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then why doubt freedom of the will, when life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In every phase, but proves its certain truth?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The edifice of shallow theorists<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before the sweeping blade of practice falls.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Your dive into the heart yields folly’s fruit;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_96" id="page_96">{96}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The selfish theory, carried to its end,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Makes wrong of right, and overturns the world.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And strong it is in seeming; for the self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In human conduct, plays important part.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But ’tis not action’s only source, nor dims<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The quality of every action’s worth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Tis true that Man exists in self alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in himself feels pain or pleasure. True,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An instinct teaches to avoid the one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And seek the other; true, that every act,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How small soe’er, gives pleasure or gives pain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet thousand deeds are done without regard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To one or other, or effect on Self.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Howe’er an action may affect the Self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If he that acts has not a thought of it,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The action is not selfish. You appeal<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Man, and so will I appeal to you.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You find a helpless brute, with broken limb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the roadside, moaning out its pain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now, though to aid will surely pleasure give,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to neglect will cause remorseful pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is there a single thought of this, when you,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With kindest hand, bind up the swollen bruise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hold the grateful water to its mouth?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is not each thought to ease the sufferer’s pain?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is not the Self first found, when on your way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You go, with lighter heart, for kindness done?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And while you think with pleasure on the deed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_97" id="page_97">{97}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would you not feel despised in your own eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If consciousness revealed ’twas done for Self?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But should you say that Self was thus concealed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And still evoked the deed, the argument<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The same; if Self was out of thought, the deed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had other source.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">In all, you thus mistake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The deed’s effect, unthought of, for its source.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">God, in His wisdom, hath affixed to good<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Performed, a pleasure, and to evil, pain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But selfish actions are not good, you’ve said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And therefore cannot slightest pleasure yield.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Here, then, your system contradicts itself;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All actions emanate from love of Self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To find the highest pleasure for that Self;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet the pleasure’s lost by very search;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What good soe’er apparently is sought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The consciousness of selfish aims destroys.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And here is wisdom manifest. When Self<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would seek the good, for pleasure to the Self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The pleasure is not found; but when it seeks<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The good alone, true pleasure is conferred.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I mean the Self of soul, not Self of flesh;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For pleasure to the sense, to be attained<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is sought; these two are mingled intricate<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(And hard to separate), in thousand ways.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But when Man’s higher Self would seek its good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It must forget the Self. In every case<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_98" id="page_98">{98}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You instanced, Self of soul must be unthought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For pleasure will not come at call of Self.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your gambler none will doubt has selfish ends;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not so the preacher, for his pleasure sought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would ne’er be found; it must be out of thought.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His burning eloquence, his pastoral care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can not proceed from any love of Self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Self would suffer, when it knew their source;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But as he acts from love of good as good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Self is happy. When he ascertains<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That some have died in sin through his neglect,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Self is grieved, not that it was uncared,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For care of Self would not allay the pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But that a duty had not been performed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That good had been neglected, as a good.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gambler’s object may be highest good<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Self, according to his estimate;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The preacher seeks a good, but not for Self;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Self appears, the good to evil turns.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor is the mystic selfish in his cave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save that he buries talents in himself,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That might avail for good to other men;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But all his mind is bent on pleasing God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His only thought of Self is for its pain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And this he deems acceptable to Heaven.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You can not judge by your analysis,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But by what passes in the actor’s mind.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One surely then could not be selfish termed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_99" id="page_99">{99}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who only lived to mortify the Self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Howe’er mistaken may his conduct be.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor is the man, who gives his wealth away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If from right principles he gives. ’Tis true,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He finds a pleasure in the deed when done,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But if to gain that pleasure he has given,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It turns to gall and wormwood in his grasp.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If two men matches light, and know full well,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If one is dropped, a house will be consumed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He is the most guilty that allows its fall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The miser, then, who knows he does a wrong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is by that knowledge rendered criminal.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“The quality of actions must be judged”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From their intents, that often differ wide;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The man who shoots his friend by accident<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has no intent, and therefore does no wrong;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But he who murders does a score of wrongs,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A score of basest motives prompt the deed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All centred in the Self. The Christian’s work<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Must, from its very nature, have no Self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or it becomes unchristian. Man can judge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not from effect, but motives ascertained<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By inference, and experience. The law<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is formed hereon, and modified by years.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Time teaches men that punishment will stop,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And only punishment, the spread of crime.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Instinct and Nature’s order teaches you<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That pain must follow wrong. A man commits<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100">{100}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A crime; if left unpunished, he repeats;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And others, seeing his security,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will do as he has done. So all mankind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would hasten on to lawlessness and ruin.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But law, for real wrong inflicts a wrong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which would be just did it no farther go;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But it is proved expedient, inasmuch<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As it prevents continued crime. Then death<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By law can not be murder termed, since good<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In aim and end, without malicious thought.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus good to many flows from wrong to one<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(If that may wrong be termed that takes the rights<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By conduct forfeited), who should receive,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though none reaped benefit. For many’s good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The law is made, yet never does a wrong<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To individuals, unless deserved.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Throughout your reas’ning, like all Earthly minds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When dataless, essaying hidden truths,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You wander blindly in conjecture’s field,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if you find the truth, it is a chance.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You fain would raise a stone of skepticism,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By granting souls immortal unto beasts;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You prove your pointer must possess a soul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And by your argument, the trees have souls;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For when an oak has fallen, every twig<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May still be there, and something, life, be gone.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A chair, a table, anything you see,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101">{101}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Possesses something, not of any parts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But that to which the parts are said, belong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, one by one, take all the parts away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The something called the table must exist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For ’twas not in a part, nor is removed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The mind of beasts exists but through their flesh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And is developed subject to its laws,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And flesh is the condition of their life.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When flesh dissolves, the mind disintegrates,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ceases to exist. Man feels within,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The consciousness of soul, that would survive<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though flesh were torn to shreds upon the wheel.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The parts of soul that live alone through flesh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Must perish with it in the hour of death.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But having postulated Self, as source<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of human conduct, you compel the acts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To fit your theory. You change effect<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For cause. Where’er a moral pleasure’s found,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You judge that for its gain the deed was done;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if the pleasure could be gained by search!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That Self does enter largely into inner life<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is very plain, for everything affects,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In some way, Self; but does the mind regard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Effect, or is its object something else?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The appetites, affections, and desires,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You make of selfish origin, yet know<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102">{102}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That is not selfish, which alone affects;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But acting with a reference to effect.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The appetites are instincts; as you breathe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You hunger, thirst, in helplessness. Not Self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But food or drink, the object of your thought.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And even while the taste is in your mouth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mind dwells on the taste, not on the Self.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Desires are partly selfish in their mode;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Desire of knowledge, seeking honor’s meed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is selfish; led by curiosity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Tis not more selfish than an appetite.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Desire of power, esteem, and wide-spread fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is selfish, when the thought of their effect<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">On Self shapes out the conduct; when desired<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For their own sake, unselfish.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">On the list<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Affections terminate, you falsely rail<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mother, and the lover; both sincere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And both without a thought of selfish aim.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Tis no reproach to say the mother’s love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In fervid instinct, and development,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is like the cow’s, that God in wisdom gives.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No love so pure as that which moves the cow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To hover round her young, to bear the blows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Impatient hunger deals the udder drained,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To smooth with loving tongue the tender coat,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or meet the playful forehead with her own;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With threatening horn, to guard approach of harm;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_103" id="page_103">{103}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And watch, with ceaseless care, the charge in sleep.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her careful love continues, till the calf<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has grown beyond her need, and ceases then.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A mother loves because it is her child:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This is the surest reason you could give.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Th’ affection is spontaneous in her breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But fed and strengthened by his life, if good.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The opposites to love you named, affect<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her love, by not an injury done to Self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But by their evil, which her soul abhors.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her son’s antagonism’s not to her,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But to the good she loves. Her heart withdraws<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its twining tendrils from unworthiness.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As usual, you select supposed effects,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then assume their causes. Could you see<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mother’s heart, you’d find the loss of love<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Caused not by wrong to her, but wrong abstract<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Developed in the concrete deeds of crime.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her love is governed by a moral sense,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or idea of the good; the people’s thought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">About herself comes in as after-part.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Bad treatment to herself, although it pain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Deals not a fatal blow to love, except<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As showing lack of principle in him.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And so your lover is not hurt in Self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But moral sense. The loved one’s perfidy,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And not her ridicule, beheads your love;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her stunning words were playful pleasantry,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_104" id="page_104">{104}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Did they not show the baseness of the heart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Indeed, to turn your reasoning on yourself,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her manner even towards you has not changed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And were you present, she would still seem yours;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her eaves-dropped words do not affect the Self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save as they show her falsity of heart.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tossing on your pillow, through the night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The crushing thought of wrecked integrity<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gives deeper pain than all her ridicule.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And Self, though pained at thought of being duped,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Enjoys relief in thought of its escape.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To show that Love is built on higher grounds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than paltry good for Self; that it must have,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As corner-stone, a percept of the good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Existing in the object loved, suppose<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You’re on the topmost height of wildest love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your arm around her, and your lingering kiss<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon her lips; and Self is king of love.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She, nestling on your shoulder, finds ’tis wrong,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That love, however true, may grow too warm;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That every kiss, however pure, abstracts<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some little part from maiden modesty,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And steals a pebble from her honor’s wall<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And rising with the firm resolve, says, “Cease,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unwind your arm, restrain your fervid lips;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It may be wrong, and right is surely safe!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now though the Self is bitterly denied,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The rapturous clasp and tender kiss forbid,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_105" id="page_105">{105}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is not your love increased a thousand-fold?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Do not you feel intensely gratified<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At this assurance of her moral worth?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And would you, for the world, breath aught to cause<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her pain, or least regret for her resolve?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How firm your trust, how sweet your confidence!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You know ’twas not capricious prudery,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For your caresses had been oft received;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor was it sly hypocrisy to win<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Your heart, for that was long since hers. No thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But spotless purity, inspired the act;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And you are happy, though the Self’s denied.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The little things of life, that men account<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without a moral value, may be done<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With reference to Self; but oftenest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mind regards the act, not its effect<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the Self. The code of Etiquette,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The small amenities of social life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The converse, and the articles of dress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May all belong to Self; but moral acts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Those known as right or wrong, have higher source<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than Self in any mode.<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">Within Man’s breast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There’s something, apprehending good and bad,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Called conscience, or the moral sense; it views,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Impartially, each act of his, decides<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_106" id="page_106">{106}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its quality by rule of right and wrong;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All trust its judgments most implicitly.&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The good is found, yields greatest happiness;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet seek it for the sake of happiness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And good is evil, with its misery!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The good must be pursued, because a good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The evil shunned, because an evil. Thus,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The moral sense discerns these qualities<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In others, and directs our love.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">A blow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The deadliest to our love, would be a blow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Aimed at the principle of good. A love,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Existing through the injuries done to Self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May meet the public’s praise, and feel its own;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But love would merit self-contempt, that loved<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whate’er opposed the good. The son may treat<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mother with unkindness, yet her love<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Be undiminished; if he lie, or steal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her love is less; she cannot love his deed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cannot love the heart from which they flow<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So with the youth who gives his chair to Age,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He does not so resent that Self’s denied<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its meed of thanks, as that ingratitude<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should thus be manifest, in little things.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A comrade, served the same, would anger cause.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But him who would give up the highest Self,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The soul, for others’ good, you deem a fool;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_107" id="page_107">{107}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ask why sacrifice ne’er claimed a soul?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because the soul cannot be sacrificed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No harm to that can others benefit.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But if it could, how truly grand the man<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who’d take eternal woe for fellow-men!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But God, who makes the soul the care of life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Makes every soul stand for itself alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in His wisdom hath ordained this law:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The greater good man gets for his own soul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The greater good on others’ he confers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While evil to himself, an evil gives.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then comes the question of this abstract good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That moral sense declares the end of life.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What is its nature? whence does it arise?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And whence does man derive the half-formed thought?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You have compared the systems that define,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each in its way, the hidden theory.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">None satisfy, though each some element<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sets forth in clear distinctness. Take them all,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Select the true of each, as Cousin does,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And will eclecticism satisfy?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And does the soul not cry for something more?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For something that it feels ’twill never reach,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The good, as known to minds unclogged with flesh?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man takes the dim outlines of abstract thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And seeking to evolve their perfect form,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_108" id="page_108">{108}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The very outlines grow more indistinct;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As gazing at a star will make it fade.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man’s only forms of good are blent with flesh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when he seeks to take the flesh away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And leave the abstract, he is thus confused,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if he should withdraw the wick and oil,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And seek to find the flame still in the lamp.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To learn the source of ideas of the Good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Trace Man collective, to his babyhood;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For ’mid the prejudice of full-grown thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The truth would be effectually concealed.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through every people scattered o’er the globe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There does prevail some idea of a God;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though rude and barbarous this idea be,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It still, in some form, does exist. The good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With all, bears reference to this thought;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what this Deity approves is good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what He disapproves is bad. Men learn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What He approves, and what He disapproves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By revelation, inference, and instinct.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">God’s sanction then is origin of Good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Though afterwards men learn the sweet effects,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And practise it for its own sake; and call<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their little effort, grandest abstract truth.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Developing in intellectual strength,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They plaster up this good in various forms,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Until, refined beyond all subtilty,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_109" id="page_109">{109}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It seems to them a self-existent good.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The good is then a certain quality,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In actions, or existence, that assures<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Divine approval. This vast idea, God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Creation sows in every human heart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All Nature’s grand designs demand a God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A God intelligent. The same instinct<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That tells His being, teaches what He loves;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what He loves with every people’s good.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But different nations entertain ideas<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Diverse in reference to a Deity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And different notions of what pleases Him.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One deems the care of God’s child-gift her good;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Another tears the heart-strings from her babe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And feeds, for good, the sacred crocodile.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The good lies in the thought of pleasing God:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The consciousness that God is pleased with us,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A pleasure yields, and good might there be sought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For pleasure’s sake, and prove a selfish aim;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But moral selfishness a pain imparts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And good, for pleasure sought, defeats the search.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The good is sought, because it pleases God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not with the doer, but with what is done.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Good has its origin in th’ idea God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And what He loves; but to continue good<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_110" id="page_110">{110}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It must retain approval in the act,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And not transfer it to the agent’s self.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The consciousness that God approves a deed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Makes Man approve, and thus his mind is brought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In correlation with the Mind Divine.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The man who does an alms, if done to gain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">God’s favor for himself, feels selfish pain;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But if because the act, not he, will please,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He finds the pleasure. Man, as time rolls on,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Finds general laws that please or displease God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And ranging, under these, subordinates<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amenable to them and not to God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The moral quality of lesser deeds<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He reckons by these laws, nor does ascend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To God, that gives their moral quality.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Jouffroy, in Order, placed the Abstract Good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And paused a step below the real truth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The idea God, whence Order emanates.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thus Man, progressing, good withdraws from God<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And seems an independent entity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And man denominates it, Abstract Good.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He can attain the Abstract but in part;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When mind is freed from flesh, he may attain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To its full grandeur. Here, at most, he grasps<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A faint outline, and fits it on concrete.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No concept occupies one act of mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But opening the lettered label, he<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_111" id="page_111">{111}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">May count the attributes, and by an act<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Complex, of memory and cognition, gain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some idea of his Abstract. Thus of “Man,”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One act can only cognize M-A-N,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But opening, he finds the attributes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As “mammal,” “biped,” “vertebrate.” This act<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is complex, and he cannot unitize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save by the bundle of a word. You’ve said<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It answers all the purposes of life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then why seek more? lest speculation vain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Point out dim realms, where Man can never tread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These baffling thoughts are given, as peacocks’ feet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Man’s fond pride. The simplest avenue<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of thought, pursued, will reach absurdity,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To comprehension finite.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Even the truth<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of numbers you presume to doubt. Two balls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You claim, can ne’er be two unless alike.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You mingle quantity and number, foolishly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if a ball the size of Earth, and one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A tiny mustard-seed, would not be two!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You deem all Mathematics wide at fault,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because Man’s powers to illustrate are weak.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Earth has oft seen a pure right angle drawn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because Man’s sight could not detect a flaw;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if to his discernment perfect made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He must admit its perfect form. If life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In every intricate demand, finds truth,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_112" id="page_112">{112}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Why seek to overturn by sophistry?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You see and know Achilles far beyond<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tortoise, yet the super-wise must prove<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That he can never pass the creeping thing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Although his speed a hundred times as swift!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Man commences, he may find a doubt<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In everything; his life, his neighbor’s life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The outside world, may all be but a myth;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then let him so believe, but let him act<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Consistently; but does the skeptic so?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He crams all Nature in his little mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet how he cringes to her slightest law!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He flees the rain, and wards the cold, or fears<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The lightning’s glittering blow. He doubts his frame<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can work by mechanism so absurd,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet will not for a day refrain from food!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When Man compares his body and his mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tries the power of each, he magnifies<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The mind to Deity, and yet how small<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Compared with what it has to learn! The more<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man knows, the more he finds he does not know;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as a traveller toiling up the hill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each upward step reveals a wider view<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of fields of thought sublime he dares not hope<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To ever reach in life; and wearily he sits<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Him down upon the mountain-side, so far<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beneath its untrod top, and recklessly<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_113" id="page_113">{113}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Doubts everything, because beyond his grasp.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">All skeptic reasoning ends, as did your own,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No fruit but blind bewilderment of thought!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And none but fools will e’er believe sincere<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The faith that doubts alone by theory,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And yet approves by practice. Such is yours;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stern necessities of life demand<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A practical belief, and such is given;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And still, forsooth, because your narrow mind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cannot contain the Truth in perfect form,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You dare deny it does exist. But few<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of skeptic minds are let to live on Earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And even these made instruments of good,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In calling forth defenders of the Truth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who add their strength to its Eternal Walls.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then here behold God’s wisdom manifest!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amid the care of countless greater orbs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He watches Earth, and knows its smallest thing.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While Man, as individual, is free,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Collective Man is being surely led<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Towards an end, but when it will be reached,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">God knows alone. Then Man will be removed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Into a higher or a lower sphere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As he has worthy proved. With Man ’twill be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A great event; his awful Judgment-day!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When from those far-off realms, the Son shall come<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With Angel retinue, and through the worlds,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_114" id="page_114">{114}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall lead their solemn flight, to where we stand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as the trump shall peal its clarion tones,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And beat away Earth’s gauze of atmosphere,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The millions living, and the billions dead,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will leave the sod, and “caught up in the air,”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall stand before the Throne, to hear their doom.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, faces pale with fear, and trembling limbs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will be on every side, as on the air<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They rest, with nothing solid ’neath their feet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And see dismantled Earth burst into flames,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And reel along its track, a globe of fire,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The volumed smoke, a dusky envelope;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its revolutions wrapping pliant flames,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In scarlet girdles, round its bulging waist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hurling streams of centrifugal sparks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In broad red tangents, from the burning orb.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the conflagration Man will gaze,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With shuddering horror; ’tis his only home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The scene of all his fame, the source of wealth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For which he toiled so wearily. All gone!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He would not touch a mountain of pure gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For ’twould be useless now! Poor, pauper Man,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without his money, chiefest aim of life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Stands homeless ’mid a Universe, to learn<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If God will be his Father, or his Foe!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from the blackness underneath, the swarms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of Evil ones are thronged, their hideous forms<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Half shown in lurid light, as here and there<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_115" id="page_115">{115}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They flit, like sharks, expectant of their prey.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then comes the closing scene. The sentence passed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The righteous breaking forth to joyous praise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shall thread Creation’s wondrous maze of life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with their Leader, sweep towards yon Heaven;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While down the black abyss, with cries of woe<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That make the darkness tremble, the condemned<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Are dragged, into its gloom,&mdash;and all is o’er&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Earth’s ashes float in scattered clouds through space&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Man the grandest era of all Time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To God, completion of Salvation’s scheme!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But Man deems Judgment too far off for thought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor will prepare for such a distant fate;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet there is something, far more sure than aught<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Uncertain life can offer; its decision, too,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is just as final as the Judgment doom;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And still ’tis oftenest farthest from the thought.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Tis Death, the welcome or unwelcome guest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of every man, and yet how few prepare<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For its approach! They give all else a care;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Wealth, honor, fame, get all their time,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While certain Death’s forgotten, till disease<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Gives warning; then with hasty penitence,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The knees are worn, the heart’s thick rubbish cleared;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But oft too late; the heart will not be cleared,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_116" id="page_116">{116}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stubborn knees will not consent to bend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The house is set in order, while the guest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In sable robes, stands at the throbbing door.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And now to close thy lesson, look through this!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He gave to me a strangely fashioned glass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through which, when I had looked to Earth, I saw<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A long black wall, that towered immensely high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So none might see beyond. Before its length,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Mankind were ranged, all weaving busily;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The young and old, the maiden and the man;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The infant hands unconscious plied the thread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The aged with a feeble, listless move.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They wove the warp of Life, and drew its thread<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From o’er the wall; none knew how far its end<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was off, nor when ’twould reach the busy hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor did they care, in aught by action shown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But bending o’er their work, without a glance<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Towards the thread, that still so smoothly ran,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They threw the shuttle back and forth again,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till suddenly the ravelled end appeared,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fell from the wall, and to the shuttle crept;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then the weaver laid his work aside,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With folded hands, was wrapped within his warp,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To wait the Master’s sentence on his task.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I saw the thread, in passing through their hands,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Received the various colors, from their touch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tinged the different patterns that they wove.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_117" id="page_117">{117}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And oh! how different in design! Some wove<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A spotless fabric, whose pure simple plan<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was always ready for the ending thread;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Come when it would, no part was incomplete;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But what was done, could bear th’ Inspector’s eye.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And others wove a dark and dingy rag,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That bore no pattern, save its filthiness;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fit garment for the fool who weaves for flames!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some wove the great red woof of war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With clashing swords, and crossing bayonets,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With ghastly bones, and famished widows’ homes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With all the grim machinery of Death,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To gain a paltry crown, or curule chair;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Perchance, before the crown or chair is reached,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The thread gives out, the work is incomplete,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in the gory cloak his hands have wrought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With all its stains unwashed, the hero sleeps.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some shuttles shape the gilded temple, Fame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And count on thread to weave its topmost dome;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But ere the lowest pinnacle is touched,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The brittle filament is snapped. Some weave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bema, with its loud applause; and some<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gaudy chaplet of the bacchanal,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And others sweated bays of honest toil.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But all the fabrics bear the yellow stain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of gold, o’er which the sinner and the saint<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Unseemly strive, and he seems happiest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose work is yellowest.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_118" id="page_118">{118}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i12">Along the wall,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“A fountain filled with blood,” plays constantly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where man may cleanse the fabric as he weaves;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet few avail themselves; the waters flow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While Man works on, without regard to stains,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till thread worn thin arouses him to fear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or breaks before the damning dyes are cleansed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And down the line I ran my anxious eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To find a weaver I might recognize,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And saw, at last, a form by mirrors known.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! ’twas a shameful texture that I wove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So dark its hue, so little saving white,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such seldom bathing in the fountain stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I could not look, but bowed my blushing face,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And like the publican of old, cried out,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Be merciful to me a sinner!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">“Rise!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Angel said, “And worship God alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Return to Earth, enjoy an humble faith,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose simple trust shall make thee happier<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Than all the grandeur of philosophy.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Should doubts arise, remember, God’s designs<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Above a finite comprehension stand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And finite doubts, about the Infinite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Assume absurdity’s intensest form.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man, from the stand-point of the Present, looks,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And disappointed, bitterly complains<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_119" id="page_119">{119}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of what would move his deepest gratitude,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could he the issue of the morrow know.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">God sees the future, and in kindness deals<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To every man his complement of good.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Remember then the weakness of thy mind,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nor doubt because thou canst not understand.<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To gather scattered jewels thou must kneel;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So on thy knees seek truth, and thou shalt find;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The nearer Earth thy face, the nearer Heaven<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thy heart. And now farewell!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">I sprang to clasp<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His hand in gratitude, but with a wave<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of parting benediction, he was gone!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then in an instant, like an aerolite,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With naught to bear me up, I fell to Earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Swifter and swifter, with increasing speed!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now bursting through a sunlit bank of cloud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And clutching, vainly, at the yielding mist,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or through a cradling storm, with thunder charged,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down through the open air, whose parted breath<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hissed death into my ears, while all below<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seemed rushing up to meet and mangle me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I shrieked aloud, “Oh save me!”&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And awoke.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The day was o’er, and night had drawn her shades;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The twinkling eyes of Heaven shone through the leaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And lit the tiny rain-globes on the grass;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_120" id="page_120">{120}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cloud had passed, and on th’ horizon’s verge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A monster firefly, with shimmering flash,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It slowly crawled behind the curve of death.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And evening’s silence deeper seemed than noon’s,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For not a sound disturbed the hush of night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save katydids, with quavering monotones,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Returning contradictions from the trees.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All drenched and chilled, with trembling limbs I rose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And homeward bent my steps; and pondering<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon my dream, this moral from it drew:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Man cannot judge the Eternal Mind by his,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But must accept the mysteries of Life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As purposes Divine, with perfect ends.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in our darkest clouds, God’s Angels stand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To work Man’s present and eternal good.<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_121" id="page_121">{121}</a></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="THE_VILLAGE_ON_THE_TAR" id="THE_VILLAGE_ON_THE_TAR"></a>THE VILLAGE ON THE TAR<br /><br />
+<small>DEDICATED TO PETTIGREW COUNCIL NO 1. F. OF T.</small></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="ig"><span class="letra">A</span> DRUNKARD in a distant town lay dying on his bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="ig">There was lack of woman’s gentle touch about his fevered head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But a comrade stood beside him, and wiped the foam away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That bubbled through his frothy lips, to hear what he might say.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The poor inebriate faltered, as he caught that comrade’s eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he said, “<span class="lftspc">’</span>Tis hard, far, far from home ’mid strangers thus to die.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take a message and a token to my friends away so far,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For Louisburg’s my native place, the village on the Tar.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Tell my brothers and companions, should they ever wish to know<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The story of the fallen, ah! the fallen one so low,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_122" id="page_122">{122}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That we drank the whole night deeply, and when at last ’twas o’er,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Full many a form lay beastly drunk along the barroom floor.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And there were ’mid those wretches some who had long served sin,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their bloated features telling well what faithful slaves they’d been;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And some were young and had not on the Hell-path entered far&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And one was from the village, the village on the Tar.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Tell my mother that her other sons may still some comfort prove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I, in even childhood, would scorn that mother’s love;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when she called the children to lift up the evening prayer,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One form was always missing, there was e’er one vacant chair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For my father was a drunkard, and even as a child<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He taught my little feet to tread the road to ruin wild;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And when he died and left us to dispute about his will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I let them take whate’er they would, but kept my father’s ‘still,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_123" id="page_123">{123}</a></span>’<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with sottish love I used it till its venomed ‘worm’ did gnaw<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My soul, my mind, my very life, in the village on the Taw.<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Tell my sister oft to weep for me with sad and drooping head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When she sees the wine flow freely, that poison ruby red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to turn her back upon it, with deep and burning shame,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For her brother fell before it and disgraced the fam’ly name.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And if a drunkard seeks her love, oh! tell her, for my sake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To shun the loathsome creature, as she would a deadly snake,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And have the old ‘still’ torn away, its fragments scattered far,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the honor of the village, the village on the Tar.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“There’s another, not a sister; in the merry days of old,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">You’d have known her by the dark blue eye, and hair of wavy gold;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Too gentle e’er to chide me, too devoted e’er to hate,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She loved me, though oft warned by all to shun the dreaded fate.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_124" id="page_124">{124}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tell her the last night of my life&mdash;for ere the morning dawn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">My body will be tenantless, my clay-chained spirit gone&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I dreamed I stood beside her, and in those lovely blue depths saw<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The merry light that cheered me, in the village on the Taw.<a name="FNanchor_A_2" id="FNanchor_A_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“I saw the old Tar hurrying on its bubbles to the sea,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As men on life’s waves e’er are swept towards eternity;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the rippling waters mingled with the warbling of the birds,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Returned soft silvery echoes to my deep impassioned words;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And in those listening ears I poured the sweet tho’ time-worn story,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While swimming were those love-lit eyes, in all their tear-pearled glory;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And her little hand was closely pressed in mine so brown and braw,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Ah! I no more shall meet her, in the village on the Taw.”<a name="FNanchor_A_3" id="FNanchor_A_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">He ceased to speak, and through his frame there ran a shiver slight,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His blood-shot eyes rolled inward and revealed their ghastly white,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_125" id="page_125">{125}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His swollen tongue protruded, o’er his face a pallor spread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His comrade touched his pulse&mdash;’twas still&mdash;and he was with the dead.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The moon from her pavilion, in the blue-draped fleecy cloud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through the window o’er the corpse had thrown her pale but ghostly shroud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The same moon that gazing upon that couch of straw.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Was bathing in a silver flood the village on the Taw.<a name="FNanchor_A_4" id="FNanchor_A_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p class="c"><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> The Indian name of this river was <i>Taw</i>.&mdash;<span class="smcap">Publisher.</span></p></div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="REQUIESCAM" id="REQUIESCAM"></a>REQUIESCAM</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Oh</span>! give me a grave in a lone, gloomy dell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">By the side of a deep, swift creek,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the ripples run like a tinkling bell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through the grassy nooks, where love so well<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The minnows to play hide and seek!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where in summer the thick twining foliage weaves<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A green, arching roof upon high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And the rain-drops fall from the dripping eaves,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like tears of grief from the weeping leaves<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On the face upturned to the sky!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_126" id="page_126">{126}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where the silence frightens the birds away,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And all is still, dreary and weird,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Except, perchance at the close of day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bittern’s boom or the crane’s hoarse bray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Floating over the swamp, is heard.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where the dusky wolf and the antlered deer<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Ever shun the dark, haunted ground;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the crouching panther ventures near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His tawny coat all bristling with fear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">At the sight of the low, red mound.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where at twilight gray, the lone whippoorwill<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">May perch on the stake at my head,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with its unearthly, tremulous trill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dreary gloom of the whole place fill<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With a requiem over the dead.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where the greater the ruin in earth’s damp mold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The greater the contrast will prove,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the weary wings of my spirit I fold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In heaven, and swell with a bright harp of gold,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The grand pealing anthem of love.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>February 9th, 1867</i><br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_127" id="page_127">{127}</a></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="LINES_TO_AN_ANALYTICAL_GEOMETRY" id="LINES_TO_AN_ANALYTICAL_GEOMETRY"></a>LINES TO AN ANALYTICAL GEOMETRY<br /><br />
+<small>KNOWN TO THE STUDENTS AS “MISS ANNIE”</small><br /><br />
+<small>WRITTEN AT THE UNIVERSITY OF NORTH CAROLINA, 1866</small></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">At</span> “Elysium” chum and I were sitting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Across our vision memories flitting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Talking, smoking, often spitting<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">On the hearth, not on the floor;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When suddenly we heard a spluttering,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As of book leaves madly flutt’ring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some one there seemed slowly mutt’ring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">At the bookcase, not the door.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Wildly springing to my feet<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">(Chum with fright seemed tied t’ his seat),<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Dreading, fearing I should meet<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">What so like a ghost had spoken&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fellow members, if you’re able<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To believe what seemed a fable,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I saw “Miss Annie” on the table,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With rage and anger almost choking.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Then without a bow or bend,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_128" id="page_128">{128}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Sitting up upon one end,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Without preface thus began&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While we both in wonder stared:<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“O ye worthless lazy scamps!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Talk about your midnight lamps,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While I’m in the bookcase crampt,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To what can such Sophs be compared?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Here you’ll sit and smoke and talk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To-morrow morn to black-board walk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Seize your ‘ruler’ and your chalk,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Then I hope get badly ‘rushed.’<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! the present generation,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such neglect to education,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Blood and scissors! thunderation!”<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She was so mad the tears forth gushed.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Chum and I had heard enough<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To put us both in quite a huff,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So just to stop her noisome stuff<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I sprang and seized her by the collar.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">George jumped up and grabbed the poker,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Shouted, “Edwin, try to choke her!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We’ll stop her mouth, a darned old croaker,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Squeeze her tight and make her ‘holloa.’<span class="lftspc">”</span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To the fire we held her near,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still she showed no signs of fear.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_129" id="page_129">{129}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Shall the red coals be your bier?”<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">She shook her leaves and fluttered, “No.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now my face with anger flushes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Covered first with scarlet blushes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I cried, “Will you again e’er ‘rush’ us?”<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Quoth Miss Annie, “Evermore.”<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Book or fiend,” I cried, up starting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Be that word our sign of parting.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then I, in my vengeance darting,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hurled her in the embers red.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She slightly quivered, slowly burned;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the sickening sight I turned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet from her this lesson learned,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Prepare before you go to bed.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="LINES_TO_COUSINS_C_AND_E" id="LINES_TO_COUSINS_C_AND_E"></a>LINES TO COUSINS C. AND E.<br /><br />
+<small>ON THE BIRTH OF THEIR LITTLE DAUGHTER</small></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> marriage over, from the train<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of watching seraphs, one long strain<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Of gratulation broke.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And then were still the rustling wings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And fingers hushed the throbbing strings,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">While thus an angel spoke:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_130" id="page_130">{130}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">“Who’ll go to earth to bless this pair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With angel child, beneath their care<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Be trained for bliss or woe?”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He ceased, and from the throng sprang three,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Faith, Love, and spotless Purity.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">These knelt, and said “We’ll go.”<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Dear cousins, to you these are sent,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Three spirits in one being blent.<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">It is a jewel rare.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! keep her pure as when first given,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Guide her faith from Earth to Heaven,<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Guard her love with care.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>May, 1867.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="THE_DEVIL_OUTDONE" id="THE_DEVIL_OUTDONE"></a>THE DEVIL OUTDONE;<br /><br />
+<small>OR,</small><br /><br />
+<small>THE GUARD OF THE SULPHUR LAKE</small></h2>
+
+<p>To her who sent me the Valentine with the cutting irony, “Don’t I look
+pretty in church?” these lines are respectfully inscribed. Not knowing
+her name, I will call her “Taters,” as she drew her elegant and tasty
+simile from that vegetable.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> Devil was sitting one morning below,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_131" id="page_131">{131}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And he seemed much perplexed as to what he must do,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For his dark brows would knit, and he’d stamp on the ground,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And flap his great wings till floating around<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Were the ashes and feathers.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">At last with an air<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of resolve he threw himself back in his chair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Lit a brimstone cigar, and touched a small bell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An imp appeared, bowed, and on his face fell.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Cloven-foot,” said the D&mdash;&mdash;, “what’s the news from the fire?”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“My liege, the great ape has ceased to inspire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The victims with terror; they fear him no more,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And continually crawl from the flames to the shore.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Well, Cloven-foot, I had most certainly thought<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When from Africa’s wilds that baboon you brought,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He’d prove such a guard for the great Sulphur Lake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wretches would ne’er cease before him to quake.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Now go up to earth, and search till you find<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Something uglier far, then quick seize and bind<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bring it to me; and if it beats the baboon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I’ll reward you. Be sure to return just as soon<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As ’tis possible, and above all things to choose<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_132" id="page_132">{132}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An object whose countenance never will lose<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its hideous novelty.” The imp bowed and withdrew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And swiftly to earth on his errand he flew;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But in vain did he search where the gorillas roam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or the jungles of Bengal, the fierce tiger’s home.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In vain throughout Europe he searched every place;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Nowhere could he find the requisite face.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Frustrated and weary, with deep despair frantic,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He was skimming the waves of the tossing Atlantic.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A few pinion strokes, and he stood on the shore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the New World, and through it began to explore.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But all was in vain, till he chanced to alight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In a sweet little village, one smiling morn bright.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Disguising himself, he attended the church,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Not hoping to find the object of search,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But just for the fun.<br /></span>
+<span class="i10">As he stood with the throng<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That were watching the College girls marching along,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He caught a slight glimpse of Miss “Tater’s” sweet face;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He sprang to her side, clasped her in embrace,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And as he plunged downward he said to himself,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Here’s one will compete with the African elf.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_133" id="page_133">{133}</a></span>”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He soon furled his wing on the Plutonian shore,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to his dark ruler his fair burden bore.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the Valentine sender came into sight<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The Devil himself started back with affright.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“Whew! whew!” whistled he, “she’ll do, I declare!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Go bring the baboon, and let them compare.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The imp disappeared, then returned with the ape,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A creature most frightful in feature and shape.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His head was oblong and perfectly bald,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Running back from his eyes&mdash;no forehead at all;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His eyeballs were white, their sockets deep red;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His long, glistening teeth strung with human-flesh shred,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The gore of his victims from his fingers’ ends flowed;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And round his lank limbs candescent chains glowed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In front of Miss “Taters” this creature was led;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He gave a look, yelled, and fainted stone dead.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“By my tongs,” quoth the Devil, “she’s rather too hard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For the old fellow; she’ll make a capital guard.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take her down to the fire.” The imp led the way<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And far down they went from the clear light of day,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down, down, till the air was all smoky and red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till the tumult of hell seemed bursting her head;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_134" id="page_134">{134}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Down, down, till the piteous wails and the moans<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the tortured but echoed the jeers and the groans<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of the fiends. Down, down, till they came to the lake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That scorches and scalds, but never will slake<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The thirst of its victims. Far out on its breast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It would heave them anon on the red foaming crest<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of a billow, then plunge them far deeper beneath<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its boiling bosom, in torture to seethe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Along the hot shore the poor creatures would crawl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To pant and to rest from their terrible thrall.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From their bodies all smoking the lava would stream,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While the shriveled flesh peeled from each quiv’ring limb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And their heart-piercing shrieks rose higher and higher,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As the tongue of each wave licked them back in the fire.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But as soon as Miss “Taters” had come where they were<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Every noise was hushed, not a sound could you hear.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Twas a wonder indeed, and the wonder increased,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the billows of crimson their torture surge ceased.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_135" id="page_135">{135}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When the imp had examined more closely, he found<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The victims had fainted, the fire gone down.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He hurried her back to his master and said,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“The fires are out, and the wretches are dead.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">“What, the fires extinguished! those fires of old!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Take her back! I begin e’en myself to feel cold!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She’ll ruin us all with her terrible face;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She’s rather hard-favored for even this place.”<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>April, 1867.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="THE_SUNFLOWER" id="THE_SUNFLOWER"></a>THE SUNFLOWER</h2>
+
+<p class="csml">LINES SUGGESTED BY OBSERVING GEN. PETTIGREW’S NAME OMITTED IN MRS.
+DOWNING’S “MEMORIAL FLOWERS” AND IN THE “SOUTHERN BOUQUET”</p>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">When</span> poets cull memorial flowers,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With which our martyrs’ graves to strew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They choose no one in Nature’s bowers<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">For Pettigrew.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet there is one, and only one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which truly represents his name;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A flower that revels in the sun,<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And drinks his flame.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A flower that opens when, all red,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sun hath kissed the eastern skies;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_136" id="page_136">{136}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But westward turned, it droops its head<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">And proudly dies.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Thus when the sun of victory sheared<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Its gory way o’er clouds of war,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">This flower’s tow’ring crest appeared<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">A beacon star.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And in its gorgeous, glorious rays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This flower basked, and only bowed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When coming conquest’s bloody haze<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">That sun did shroud.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Crushed flower, with thy broken stem,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">I’ll keep thee near to typify<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fallen form; the hero’s fame<br /></span>
+<span class="i6">Can never die.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>June 19th, 1867.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="AN_ELEGY" id="AN_ELEGY"></a>AN ELEGY<br /><br />
+<small>WRITTEN ON THE ROTUNDA STEPS, UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA, 1868</small></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> bell the knell of evening lecture tolls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The thronging students pour from every door;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The tutor gathers up his notes and rolls,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And homeward wends his weary way once more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_137" id="page_137">{137}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The noisy crowd is gone, there is a pause,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And hushed is all the busy hum and whirl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Save where from yonder room breaks loud applause<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That welcomes some professor’s parting “curl.”<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Save that from yonder plain, the lower lawn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Some base-ball novice makes harsh rhyms to <i>psalm</i>,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Because a veteran, with his hands of horn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Has “pitched” too “hot” a ball for his soft palm.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Beneath those balconies, along those rows,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where sinks the wall in many a jail-like cell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each wrapped in silence now and in repose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The minstrels of the “Calathump” do dwell.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The whispered call of evil-masking night,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The signal whistle of the well-known crew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The bumping bang of “blowers” beat with might,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Will often rouse the “Nippers of Peru.”<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">For them in vain for hours their hearts will burn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">While busy housewives tremble at their noise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And frightened children to their fathers turn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Too badly scared to think of play or toys.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oft has th’ rotunda echoed to their songs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In dulcet strains that on the still air broke;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_138" id="page_138">{138}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oft has the lawn resounded with their gongs,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That roared and rattled ’neath their sturdy stroke.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Let not their victims mock th’ infernal din,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Coal-scuttle drums, and clarion paper trump;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But let them hear with a sardonic “grin,”<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The hideous clamor of a “Calathump.”<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The boast of Mozart, or Beethoven’s pride,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sweetest notes Von Weber ever gave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Alike would prove harsh dissonance beside<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The gushing concord of one college stave.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">To-night upon their pillows will be laid<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Heads that are pregnant with some secret plan;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Hands that a “poker” often may have swayed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or waked to ecstasy an old tin pan.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">In vain grave study holds before their gaze<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Her ample page and honor’s glittering roll;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The fire of “frolic” in their bosom plays,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And warms the devilish current of their soul.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Full many a mind that might have nations hurled<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">About as toys, has hid its talents rare;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And many a voice that might have moved a world,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Has cracked in shoutings on the midnight air.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_139" id="page_139">{139}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Some village Hampden here by night may bawl,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Some unknown Milton, but by no means mute;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Some David that may soothe a savage Saul,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As yet entirely guiltless of a lute.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The applause of gaping urchins to command,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The darkies’ laughter at their quaint disguise,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A few short words from some one to the band,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This is their sole reward, their hard-earned prize.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But who to dumb forgetfulness a prey,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Would start to nip with dry and husky throttle?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whene’er they march along the Devil’s way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They take his own peculiar seal, the bottle.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Amid the madding crowd that gathers thick,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A moving pandemonium they stray,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And down those much frequented walks of brick<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">They hold the noisy tenor of their way.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h3>THE EPIGRAM</h3>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Here go at last, all yelling to the town,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A band of youths to Judson’s too well known;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Fair science ever met their darkest frown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And foul intemperance marked them for her own.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Small is their bounty, but “a drink” they chime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As round the crowded counter many jam;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_140" id="page_140">{140}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each gives to Judson (all he has) a dime,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Each gets from him (’tis all he wants) a dram.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>January, 1868.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="FIRE_EYES" id="FIRE_EYES"></a>FIRE EYES</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hast thou on summer’s eve ere marked<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The storm on cloud wings soaring high,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And spreading far his pinions black,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Across the blue good-natured sky?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hast thou seen from ’neath his brow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The lightning’s eye gleam fiercely bright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if to pierce a thousand foes<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With daggers of his living light?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As flash the lightnings in the skies,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So gleam, when angry, “Fire Eyes.”<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Hast thou on autumn eve e’er seen<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sun just nestling on his pillow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While sapphire clouds were silver-fringed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As seafoam crests the surging billow?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And hast thou seen the golden gaze<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sun bestows on Nature fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That dyes the gorgeous landscape o’er<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And almost melts the amber air?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As beams the sun on autumn skies<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So smile, when pleased, bright “Fire Eyes.”<br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_141" id="page_141">{141}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<h2><a name="MY_DARLINGS_JESSAMINE" id="MY_DARLINGS_JESSAMINE"></a>MY DARLING’S JESSAMINE</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">’Twas only a sprig of white jessamine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That came in a letter she wrote;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But I value it more than the costliest vine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose tendrils o’er marble-carved trellis-work twine:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2"><i>’Twas worn at my darling one’s throat</i>.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">A throat that encages the nightingale’s trill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And sweetens each silvery note,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I think as I hear, in a rapturous thrill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her voice, whose volume can heaven’s dome fill,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">That the <i>angels have lent her a throat</i>.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">More sweet than exotics that Fashion dupes wear<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">As through the gay ballroom they float!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the leaves of my Bible I laid it with care,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">More <i>sacredly dear</i> than a <i>buried friend’s hair</i><br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Since worn at my darling one’s throat!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>July, 1870.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_142" id="page_142">{142}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="THE_PARTING_SHIP" id="THE_PARTING_SHIP"></a>THE PARTING SHIP</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">In</span> pensive mood I stood upon the quay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where busy Commerce plied her energy;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where loading vessels hung their sails at rest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And rose and fell, upon the water’s breast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where busy little tugs with hissing steam<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Buried their noses in the foaming stream.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Near by, a steamer in a paneled wharf<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Chafed at her chains and panted to be off.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A strange, mysterious ship, no pennon bold<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her nation or her destination told;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No crew was seen, no farewell song was sung,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No parting loved ones to each other clung;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No wife was weeping on her husband’s neck,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No mother blessed her wayward boy on deck.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A ceaseless throng pressed through the cabin door,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if they longed to leave their native shore;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">No backward glance, no tearful farewell view,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And no one seemed to think home worth adieu.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At last the bell was rung, the plank was drawn,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And with a shivering sigh, the ship was gone.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then as I marked her curving track of foam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I wondered in what waters she would roam;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I thought of those on board, the reckless air<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of their departure, and I breathed a prayer.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_143" id="page_143">{143}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A red-haired man stood turning up a wheel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That wound a clanking chain upon a reel;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I laid a coin upon his brawny hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And asked him, “Who thus leave their native land?”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He leaned upon his wheel and closed one eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if the lid were burdened with a sty;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then with a laugh he answered, “By the devil’s spleen and liver,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It’s on’y a Fulton ferry-boat a’gwine a’gross East River.”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="TO_M_mdash_FROM_Emdashmdash" id="TO_M_mdash_FROM_Emdashmdash"></a>TO M&mdash;&mdash;, FROM E&mdash;&mdash;<br /><br />
+<small>WRITTEN ON THE FLY-LEAF OF A BIBLE</small></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">One</span> year of sweetest love intense!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One year of mutual confidence!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One year of gazing into eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In which the love-light never dies!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One year of clasping hands, that thrill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With throbbing love from life’s red rill<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One year of clouds, whose transient shade<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The after glory brighter made!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One year of doubts, whose fleeting rust<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Could not corrode our links of trust!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One year of prayer, whose pleading tone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Has for <i>each other</i> sued the Throne!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One year <i>together</i>&mdash;may it prove<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_144" id="page_144">{144}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Prophetic of our earthly love!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One year <i>each other’s</i>&mdash;may it be<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A type of our <i>eternity</i>!<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>Sunday, May, 1871.</i><br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="UNDER_THE_PINES" id="UNDER_THE_PINES"></a>UNDER THE PINES<br /><br />
+<small>“TELL THEM TO BURY ME UNDER THE PINES AT HOME.” FROM “SEA GIFT.”</small></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">I <span class="smcap">would</span> not rest in the moldering tomb<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of the grim church-yard, where the ivy twines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But make me a grave in the forest’s gloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the breezes wave, like a soldier’s plume,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Each dark-green bough of the dear old pines;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where the lights and shadows softly merge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And the sun-flakes sift through the netted vines;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where the sea winds, sad with the sob of the surge,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From the harp-leaves sweep a solemn dirge<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For the dead beneath the sighing pines.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">When the winter’s icy fingers sow<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The mound with jewels till it shines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And cowled in hoods of glistening snow,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like white-veiled sisters bending low,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bow, sorrowing, the silent pines.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_145" id="page_145">{145}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">While others fought for cities proud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For fertile plains and wealth of mines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I breathed the sulph’rous battle cloud,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I bared my breast, and took my shroud<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For the land where wave the grand old pines.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Though comrades sigh and loved ones weep<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For the form shot down in the battle lines,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In my grave of blood I gladly sleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If the life I gave will help to keep<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The Vandal’s foot from the Land of Pines.<br /></span>
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">* * * * * * * * * *</span><br />
+<span class="i0">The Vandal’s foot hath pressed our sod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">His heel hath crushed our sacred shrines;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, bowing ’neath the chastening rod,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We lift our hearts and hands to God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And cry: “Oh! save our Land of Pines!”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="THE_LAST_LOOK" id="THE_LAST_LOOK"></a>THE LAST LOOK<br /><br />
+<small>TO MARY</small></h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Do</span> not fasten the lid of the coffin down yet;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Let me have a long look at the face of my pet.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Please all quit the chamber and pull to the door,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And leave me alone with my darling once more.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_146" id="page_146">{146}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Is this little Ethel, so cold, and so still!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Beat, beat, breaking heart, ’gainst God’s mystic will,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Remember, O Christ, thou didst dread thine own cup,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And while I drink mine, let thine arm bear me up.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But the moments are fleeting: I must stamp on my brain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each dear little feature, for never again<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Can I touch her; and only God measures how much<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Affection a mother conveys by her touch.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh! dear little head, oh! dear little hair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So silken, so golden, so soft, and so fair,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Will I never more smooth it? Oh! help me, my God,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To bear this worst stroke of the chastening rod.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Those bright little eyes that used to feign sleep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or sparkle so merrily, playing at peep,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Closed forever! And yet they seemed closed with a sigh,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if for our sake she regretted to die.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">And that dear little <i>mouth</i>, once so warm and so soft,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Always willing to kiss you, no matter how oft,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Cold and rigid, without the least tremor of breath,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">How could you claim <i>Ethel</i>, O pitiless death!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_147" id="page_147">{147}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Her hands! No, ’twill kill me to think how they wove<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Through my daily existence a tissue of love.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Each finger’s a print upon memory’s page,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That will brighten, thank God! and not dim with my age.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Sick or well, they were ready at every request<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To amuse us: sweet hands! they deserve a sweet rest.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their last little trick was to wipe “Bopeep’s” eye,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their last little gesture, to wave us good-bye.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Little feet! little feet, how dark the heart’s gloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where your patter is hushed in that desolate room!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For oh! ’twas a sight sweet beyond all compare,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see little “Frisky” rock back in her chair.<br /></span>
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">* * * * * * * * * *</span><br />
+
+<span class="i0">O Father! have mercy, and grant me thy grace<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To see, through this frown, the smile on thy face;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To feel that this sorrow is sent for the best,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And to learn from my darling a lesson of rest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><i>February 16th, 1875.</i><br /></span>
+<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_148" id="page_148">{148}</a></span></div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="LINES_WRITTEN_AT_THE_REQUEST_OF_AN_UNKNOWN_FRIEND" id="LINES_WRITTEN_AT_THE_REQUEST_OF_AN_UNKNOWN_FRIEND"></a>LINES WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF AN UNKNOWN FRIEND</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">We’ve</span> never met; I’ve never pressed your hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Nor caught the light of Friendship in your eyes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet bound by grief, between two graves we stand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And mingle tears, and hear each other’s sighs.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The same dark wings have taken from each hearth<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The brightest jewel of the circle there,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And poor Faith stumbles at the mound of earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And feebly yields her place to wan Despair.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The same dear Christ that took our little one,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And laid her precious head upon His breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In tender love called home your darling son<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To enter early his eternal rest.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But who could stand beside the open tomb,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And hear the clods fall on the coffin lid,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And see deep underneath the earthen gloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The dearest love of life forever hid?<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Could we not hear the grave’s red lips proclaim,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">“I am the Resurrection and the Life,”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And realize that Death in Jesus’ name<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Is only rest from labor, pain, and strife?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_149" id="page_149">{149}</a></span><br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">’Tis hard to feel assured our sainted dead<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Are happy <i>there</i>, as we could make them here;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We love them so we give them up with dread,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And lay them in Christ’s arms with doubt and fear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh! for a faith that sees in all God sends<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The kindness of a father to his son;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That prays, in every trial&mdash;if it ends<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In joy or grief, “Thy will, O Lord, be done.”<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Beneath the same dark shadow let us kneel,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And lift our broken hearts in prayer to God<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That while He chastens, He will help us feel<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The wisdom of His purpose in the rod.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">We are not strangers now; from heart to heart<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The electric chords of mutual sorrow thrill.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And clasping hands across the miles apart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">We stand resolved, to “suffer and be still.”<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="OUT_IN_THE_RAIN" id="OUT_IN_THE_RAIN"></a>OUT IN THE RAIN</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> night is dark and cold, a beating rain<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Falls ceaselessly upon the dripping roof;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dismal wind, with now a fierce, wild shriek,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And now a hollow moan, as if in pain,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_150" id="page_150">{150}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Circles the eaves, and bends the tortured trees that wring<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their long, bear hands in the bleak blast.<br /></span>
+<span class="i17">Within<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Our chamber all is bright and warm. The fire<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Burns with a ruddy blaze. The shaded lamp<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Softens the pictures on the wall, and glows<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the flowers in the carpet, till they seem<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">All fresh and fragrant. Stretched upon the rug,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His collar gleaming in the fire-light, little Pip<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is sleeping on, defiant of the storm without.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The very furniture enjoys the warmth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from its sides reflects the cheerful light.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up in its painted cage, the little bird,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">His yellow head beneath his soft, warm wing,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Is hiding. Oh! my God, out in the storm<br /></span>
+<span class="i0"><i>Our little yellow head</i> is beaten by the rain.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So lonely looks that precious little face<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Up at the cold, dark coffin’s lid above,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In the bleak graveyard’s solitude!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! Ethel darling, do you feel afraid?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Or is Christ with you in your little grave?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When last we gazed upon those lovely eyes<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">They looked so tranquil, in their last repose,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">We knew that Christ’s own tender hand had sealed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their lids with His eternal peace.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! darling, are you happy up in heaven?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_151" id="page_151">{151}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And do the angels part that golden hair<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As tenderly as we? O Saviour dear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thou knowest childhood’s tenderness. Amid<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The care of countless worlds, sometimes descend<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">From thine almighty throne of power, and find<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That little yellow head, and lay it on thy breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And smooth her brow with thine own pierced hand;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She’ll kiss the wound and try to make it well.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And tell her how we love her memory here;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And let her sometimes see us, that she may<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Remember us. O Jesus, we can trust<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Her to thy care; and when we lay us down<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To rest, beside that lonely, little grave,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! let her meet us with her harp.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">God help us both to make that meeting sure!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="THE_LILY_AND_THE_DEW-DROP" id="THE_LILY_AND_THE_DEW-DROP"></a>THE LILY AND THE DEW-DROP</h2>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Deep</span> in a cell of darkest green,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Rayless and murky with unbroken gloom,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With downcast head and shrinking, modest mien,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A lily of the valley shed her rare perfume,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Breathed softly, as a sea shell’s murmur, from her bloom<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_152" id="page_152">{152}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">An odor so exquisite, none can tell,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If ’tis an odor or a whispered sigh<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That like the dying echoes of a bell<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Falls on the raptured sense so dreamily,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The soul swoons in the tearful clasp of memory.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">So when an old man hears a harvest song<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">He used to sing, or smells the new-mown hay,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A host of saddened recollections throng<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The dusty chambers of his heart, and play<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the cobwebs there a soft Æolian lay.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i8">(<i>Unfinished.</i>)<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<hr />
+
+<h2><a name="LINES" id="LINES"></a>LINES,<br /><br />
+<small>WRITTEN AFTER HAVING A HEMORRHAGE FROM THE LUNGS</small></h2>
+
+<p class="csml">Written a short time before his death and handed to his wife with the
+request, “Do not open this until I am well, or until my death.”</p>
+
+<div class="poetry">
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Life</span> bloomed for me as if my path thro’ Eden<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Led its flowery way. Success had crowned<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In many ways my efforts. No dark strife<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With adverse Fate its portent shadows cast<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Across the calm blue scope of heaven.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">And though<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_153" id="page_153">{153}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pride often chafed at plain commercial life,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It was but transient, for ambitious Hope<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Kept ever in my view Fame’s gilded dome,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon whose highest pinnacle I chose my niche,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For vain conceit had whispered in my ear<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That I had Genius to encharm the world,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I looked forward to the loud applause<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of nations as a simple thing of time.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of death I thought but as a fright for those<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who have no destiny but dying. Mine<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would come in age, but as a pallid seal<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To Honor gained, and Life’s long labors done.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet I had felt the breath of Asrael’s wing<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When from my youthful head he took my father’s hand,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And from my manhood’s arms my only child,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And down the past a little mound of earth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Tombed with the darkest sorrow of our hearts,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still stands, though veiling in the folds of time.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Of heaven I thought but as a distant home,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A place of sweetest rest that I would gain,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When weary of the burden of the world.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Thus gay of thought and bright of hope, I moved<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Amid the flowers of my way.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">At once,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With scarce a rustle in the rose leaves, came<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A shadowy form, and standing silently<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Before my pathway, breathed a whispered sigh,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_154" id="page_154">{154}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As if it loathed its office to perform;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then laid Consumption’s ghastly banner on my breast,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its pale folds crossed with fatal red.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">The sky<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grew dark, the rose leaves withered, as the form<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Withdrew, still silently; while I, alone<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Upon the roadside, kneeled to pray for light.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The stunned surprise of sudden shattered hopes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The faith of self-appointed destiny,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Still turned my eyes toward the Temple Fame.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Across its gilded dome a spotless cloud<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Had drifted, hiding it from view, but lo!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The cloud, unfolding snowy depths, disclosed<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The glories of that “House not made with hands,”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And bending from it, so full of tenderness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I could discern the loved ones “gone before.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And over all I recognized the Form<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose brow endured Gabbatha’s shameful crown,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Whose woe distilled itself in trickling blood,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">By Cedron’s murmuring wave.<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">As tenderly<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As ever mother touched her babe, He bore<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Within His arms a little angel form,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">With golden hair and blue expressive eyes,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">One dimpled hand lay on His willing cheek,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While He bent down to meet the sweet caress,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The other, with that well-remembered look<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_155" id="page_155">{155}</a></span><br /></span>
+<span class="i0">She kissed, and threw the kiss to me.<br /></span>
+<span class="i14">Then down<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I bowed my face, and longed to know mine end.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">’Twere very sweet to leave all toil and care<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And join the blessed ones beyond the tide;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And still ’twere sweet beyond compare to wait<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Till eventide with loved ones here, and share<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Their weal or woe.<br /></span>
+<span class="i8">Then came a flute-like voice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That thrilled the solemn air:<br /></span>
+<span class="i12">“Pursue thy way,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Yet humbly walk and watch, and if I come<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">At midnight, or at noon, be ready.”<br /></span>
+<span class="i17">Thus<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">I wish to live, life’s aims subserved to God;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And each continued day and hour regard<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">As special gifts to be improved for Him;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To wear the girdle of the world about my loins<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">So loosely that a moment will suffice<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">To break the clasp, and lay it down.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+</div>
+
+<p class="fint">THE END</p>
+
+<hr class="full" />
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+<pre>
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Angel in the Cloud, by Edwin W. (Wiley) Fuller
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+</pre>
+
+</body>
+</html>
author	nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>	2025-02-08 07:03:56 -0800
committer	nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org>	2025-02-08 07:03:56 -0800
commit	22051a0dd694c39b111e0ca83ccc2e9db58e0365 (patch)
tree	abf116dfd519c1b34f42e041ddde2ddcbac4bb54 /57504-h/57504-h.htm