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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/9568.txt b/9568.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5e370c3 --- /dev/null +++ b/9568.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2056 @@ +Project Gutenberg EBook, Poems of Nature: The Frost Spirit and Others +Volume II., The Works of Whittier: Poems of Nature, Poems Subjective +and Reminiscent, Religious Poems +#13 in our series by John Greenleaf Whittier + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**EBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These EBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers***** + + + +Title: The Frost Spirit and Others from Poems of Nature, + Poems Subjective and Reminiscent and Religious Poems + Volume II., The Works of Whittier + +Author: John Greenleaf Whittier + +Release Date: Dec, 2005 [EBook #9568] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on October 2, 2003] + + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + + + + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE FROST SPIRIT, ETC. *** + + + + +This eBook was produced by David Widger + + + + + + POEMS OF NATURE + + POEMS SUBJECTIVE AND REMINISCENT + + RELIGIOUS POEMS + + BY + JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER + + +ENTIRE CONTENTS: + +POEMS OF NATURE: + THE FROST SPIRIT + THE MERRIMAC + HAMPTON BEACH + A DREAM OF SUMMER + THE LAKESIDE + AUTUMN THOUGHTS + ON RECEIVING AN EAGLE'S QUILL FROM LAKE SUPERIOR + APRIL + PICTURES + SUMMER BY THE LAKESIDE + THE FRUIT-GIFT + FLOWERS IN WINTER + THE MAYFLOWERS + THE LAST WALK IN AUTUMN + THE FIRST FLOWERS + THE OLD BURYING-GROUND + THE PALM-TREE + THE RIVER PATH + MOUNTAIN PICTURES + I. FRANCONIA FROM THE PEMIGEWASSET + II. MONADNOCK FROM WACHUSET + THE VANISHERS + THE PAGEANT + THE PRESSED GENTIAN + A MYSTERY + A SEA DREAM + HAZEL BLOSSOMS + SUNSET ON THE BEARCAMP + THE SEEKING OF THE WATERFALL + THE TRAILING ARBUTUS + ST. MARTINS SUMMER + STORM ON LAKE ASQUAM + A SUMMER PILGRIMAGE + SWEET FERN + THE WOOD GIANT + A DAY + + +POEMS SUBJECTIVE AND REMINISCENT: + MEMORIES + RAPHAEL + EGO + THE PUMPKIN + FORGIVENESS + TO MY SISTER + MY THANKS + REMEMBRANCE + MY NAMESAKE + A MEMORY + MY DREAM + THE BAREFOOT BOY + MY PSALM + THE WAITING + SNOW-BOUND + MY TRIUMPH + IN SCHOOL-DAYS + MY BIRTHDAY + RED RIDING-HOOD + RESPONSE + AT EVENTIDE + VOYAGE OF THE JETTIE + MY TRUST + A NAME + GREETING + CONTENTS + AN AUTOGRAPH + ABRAM MORRISON + A LEGACY + +RELIGIOUS POEMS: + THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM + THE CITIES OF THE PLAIN + THE CALL OF THE CHRISTIAN + THE CRUCIFIXION + PALESTINE + HYMNS FROM THE FRENCH OF LAMARTINE + I. ENCORE UN HYMNE + II. LE CRI DE L'AME + THE FAMILIST'S HYMN + EZEKIEL + WHAT THE VOICE SAID + THE ANGEL OF PATIENCE + THE WIFE OF MANOAH TO HER HUSBAND + MY SOUL AND I + WORSHIP + THE HOLY LAND + THE REWARD + THE WISH OF TO-DAY + ALL'S WELL + INVOCATION + QUESTIONS OF LIFE + FIRST-DAY THOUGHTS + TRUST + TRINITAS + THE SISTERS + "THE ROCK" IN EL GHOR + THE OVER-HEART + THE SHADOW AND THE LIGHT + THE CRY OF A LOST SOUL + ANDREW RYKMAN'S PRAYER + THE ANSWER + THE ETERNAL GOODNESS + THE COMMON QUESTION + OUR MASTER + THE MEETING + THE CLEAR VISION + DIVINE COMPASSION + THE PRAYER-SEEKER + THE BREWING OF SOMA + A WOMAN + THE PRAYER OF AGASSIZ + IN QUEST + THE FRIEND'S BURIAL + A CHRISTMAS CARMEN + VESTA + CHILD-SONGS + THE HEALER + THE TWO ANGELS + OVERRULED + HYMN OF THE DUNKERS + GIVING AND TAKING + THE VISION OF ECHARD + INSCRIPTIONS + ON A SUN-DIAL + ON A FOUNTAIN + THE MINISTER'S DAUGHTER + BY THEIR WORKS + THE WORD + THE BOOK + REQUIREMENT + HELP + UTTERANCE + ORIENTAL MAXIMS + THE INWARD JUDGE + LAYING UP TREASURE + CONDUCT + AN EASTER FLOWER GIFT + THE MYSTIC'S CHRISTMAS + AT LAST + WHAT THE TRAVELLER SAID AT SUNSET + THE "STORY OF IDA" + THE LIGHT THAT IS FELT + THE TWO LOVES + ADJUSTMENT + HYMNS OF THE BRAHMO SOMAJ + REVELATION + + + + + POEMS OF NATURE + + +THE FROST SPIRIT + +He comes,--he comes,--the Frost Spirit comes + You may trace his footsteps now +On the naked woods and the blasted fields and the + brown hill's withered brow. +He has smitten the leaves of the gray old trees + where their pleasant green came forth, +And the winds, which follow wherever he goes, + have shaken them down to earth. + +He comes,--he comes,--the Frost Spirit comes! + from the frozen Labrador, +From the icy bridge of the Northern seas, which + the white bear wanders o'er, +Where the fisherman's sail is stiff with ice, and the + luckless forms below +In the sunless cold of the lingering night into + marble statues grow + +He comes,--he comes,--the Frost Spirit comes + on the rushing Northern blast, +And the dark Norwegian pines have bowed as his + fearful breath went past. +With an unscorched wing he has hurried on, + where the fires of Hecla glow +On the darkly beautiful sky above and the ancient + ice below. + +He comes,--he comes,--the Frost Spirit comes + and the quiet lake shall feel +The torpid touch of his glazing breath, and ring to + the skater's heel; +And the streams which danced on the broken + rocks, or sang to the leaning grass, +Shall bow again to their winter chain, and in + mournful silence pass. +He comes,--he comes,--the Frost Spirit comes! + Let us meet him as we may, +And turn with the light of the parlor-fire his evil + power away; +And gather closer the circle round, when that + fire-light dances high, +And laugh at the shriek of the baffled Fiend as + his sounding wing goes by! +1830. + + + +THE MERRIMAC. + + "The Indians speak of a beautiful river, far to the south, + which they call Merrimac."--SIEUR. DE MONTS, 1604. + +Stream of my fathers! sweetly still +The sunset rays thy valley fill; +Poured slantwise down the long defile, +Wave, wood, and spire beneath them smile. +I see the winding Powow fold +The green hill in its belt of gold, +And following down its wavy line, +Its sparkling waters blend with thine. +There 's not a tree upon thy side, +Nor rock, which thy returning tide +As yet hath left abrupt and stark +Above thy evening water-mark; +No calm cove with its rocky hem, +No isle whose emerald swells begin +Thy broad, smooth current; not a sail +Bowed to the freshening ocean gale; +No small boat with its busy oars, +Nor gray wall sloping to thy shores; +Nor farm-house with its maple shade, +Or rigid poplar colonnade, +But lies distinct and full in sight, +Beneath this gush of sunset light. +Centuries ago, that harbor-bar, +Stretching its length of foam afar, +And Salisbury's beach of shining sand, +And yonder island's wave-smoothed strand, +Saw the adventurer's tiny sail, +Flit, stooping from the eastern gale; +And o'er these woods and waters broke +The cheer from Britain's hearts of oak, +As brightly on the voyager's eye, +Weary of forest, sea, and sky, +Breaking the dull continuous wood, +The Merrimac rolled down his flood; +Mingling that clear pellucid brook, +Which channels vast Agioochook +When spring-time's sun and shower unlock +The frozen fountains of the rock, +And more abundant waters given +From that pure lake, "The Smile of Heaven," +Tributes from vale and mountain-side,-- +With ocean's dark, eternal tide! + +On yonder rocky cape, which braves +The stormy challenge of the waves, +Midst tangled vine and dwarfish wood, +The hardy Anglo-Saxon stood, +Planting upon the topmost crag +The staff of England's battle-flag; +And, while from out its heavy fold +Saint George's crimson cross unrolled, +Midst roll of drum and trumpet blare, +And weapons brandishing in air, +He gave to that lone promontory +The sweetest name in all his story; +Of her, the flower of Islam's daughters, +Whose harems look on Stamboul's waters,-- +Who, when the chance of war had bound +The Moslem chain his limbs around, +Wreathed o'er with silk that iron chain, +Soothed with her smiles his hours of pain, +And fondly to her youthful slave +A dearer gift than freedom gave. + +But look! the yellow light no more +Streams down on wave and verdant shore; +And clearly on the calm air swells +The twilight voice of distant bells. +From Ocean's bosom, white and thin, +The mists come slowly rolling in; +Hills, woods, the river's rocky rim, +Amidst the sea--like vapor swim, +While yonder lonely coast-light, set +Within its wave-washed minaret, +Half quenched, a beamless star and pale, +Shines dimly through its cloudy veil! + +Home of my fathers!--I have stood +Where Hudson rolled his lordly flood +Seen sunrise rest and sunset fade +Along his frowning Palisade; +Looked down the Appalachian peak +On Juniata's silver streak; +Have seen along his valley gleam +The Mohawk's softly winding stream; +The level light of sunset shine +Through broad Potomac's hem of pine; +And autumn's rainbow-tinted banner +Hang lightly o'er the Susquehanna; +Yet wheresoe'er his step might be, +Thy wandering child looked back to thee! +Heard in his dreams thy river's sound +Of murmuring on its pebbly bound, +The unforgotten swell and roar +Of waves on thy familiar shore; +And saw, amidst the curtained gloom +And quiet of his lonely room, +Thy sunset scenes before him pass; +As, in Agrippa's magic glass, +The loved and lost arose to view, +Remembered groves in greenness grew, +Bathed still in childhood's morning dew, +Along whose bowers of beauty swept +Whatever Memory's mourners wept, +Sweet faces, which the charnel kept, +Young, gentle eyes, which long had slept; +And while the gazer leaned to trace, +More near, some dear familiar face, +He wept to find the vision flown,-- +A phantom and a dream alone! +1841. + + + +HAMPTON BEACH + +The sunlight glitters keen and bright, +Where, miles away, +Lies stretching to my dazzled sight +A luminous belt, a misty light, +Beyond the dark pine bluffs and wastes of sandy gray. + +The tremulous shadow of the Sea! +Against its ground +Of silvery light, rock, hill, and tree, +Still as a picture, clear and free, +With varying outline mark the coast for miles around. + +On--on--we tread with loose-flung rein +Our seaward way, +Through dark-green fields and blossoming grain, +Where the wild brier-rose skirts the lane, +And bends above our heads the flowering locust spray. + +Ha! like a kind hand on my brow +Comes this fresh breeze, +Cooling its dull and feverish glow, +While through my being seems to flow +The breath of a new life, the healing of the seas! + +Now rest we, where this grassy mound +His feet hath set +In the great waters, which have bound +His granite ankles greenly round +With long and tangled moss, and weeds with cool spray wet. + +Good-by to Pain and Care! I take +Mine ease to-day +Here where these sunny waters break, +And ripples this keen breeze, I shake +All burdens from the heart, all weary thoughts away. + +I draw a freer breath, I seem +Like all I see-- +Waves in the sun, the white-winged gleam +Of sea-birds in the slanting beam, +And far-off sails which flit before the south-wind free. + +So when Time's veil shall fall asunder, +The soul may know +No fearful change, nor sudden wonder, +Nor sink the weight of mystery under, +But with the upward rise, and with the vastness grow. + +And all we shrink from now may seem +No new revealing; +Familiar as our childhood's stream, +Or pleasant memory of a dream +The loved and cherished Past upon the new life stealing. + +Serene and mild the untried light +May have its dawning; +And, as in summer's northern night +The evening and the dawn unite, +The sunset hues of Time blend with the soul's new morning. + +I sit alone; in foam and spray +Wave after wave +Breaks on the rocks which, stern and gray, +Shoulder the broken tide away, +Or murmurs hoarse and strong through mossy cleft and cave. + +What heed I of the dusty land +And noisy town? +I see the mighty deep expand +From its white line of glimmering sand +To where the blue of heaven on bluer waves shuts down! + +In listless quietude of mind, +I yield to all +The change of cloud and wave and wind +And passive on the flood reclined, +I wander with the waves, and with them rise and fall. + +But look, thou dreamer! wave and shore +In shadow lie; +The night-wind warns me back once more +To where, my native hill-tops o'er, +Bends like an arch of fire the glowing sunset sky. + +So then, beach, bluff, and wave, farewell! +I bear with me +No token stone nor glittering shell, +But long and oft shall Memory tell +Of this brief thoughtful hour of musing by the Sea. +1843. + + + +A DREAM OF SUMMER. + +Bland as the morning breath of June +The southwest breezes play; +And, through its haze, the winter noon +Seems warm as summer's day. +The snow-plumed Angel of the North +Has dropped his icy spear; +Again the mossy earth looks forth, +Again the streams gush clear. + +The fox his hillside cell forsakes, +The muskrat leaves his nook, +The bluebird in the meadow brakes +Is singing with the brook. +"Bear up, O Mother Nature!" cry +Bird, breeze, and streamlet free; +"Our winter voices prophesy +Of summer days to thee!" + +So, in those winters of the soul, +By bitter blasts and drear +O'erswept from Memory's frozen pole, +Will sunny days appear. +Reviving Hope and Faith, they show +The soul its living powers, +And how beneath the winter's snow +Lie germs of summer flowers! + +The Night is mother of the Day, +The Winter of the Spring, +And ever upon old Decay +The greenest mosses cling. +Behind the cloud the starlight lurks, +Through showers the sunbeams fall; +For God, who loveth all His works, +Has left His hope with all! +4th 1st month, 1847. + + + + +THE LAKESIDE + +The shadows round the inland sea +Are deepening into night; +Slow up the slopes of Ossipee +They chase the lessening light. +Tired of the long day's blinding heat, +I rest my languid eye, +Lake of the Hills! where, cool and sweet, +Thy sunset waters lie! + +Along the sky, in wavy lines, +O'er isle and reach and bay, +Green-belted with eternal pines, +The mountains stretch away. +Below, the maple masses sleep +Where shore with water blends, +While midway on the tranquil deep +The evening light descends. + +So seemed it when yon hill's red crown, +Of old, the Indian trod, +And, through the sunset air, looked down +Upon the Smile of God. +To him of light and shade the laws +No forest skeptic taught; +Their living and eternal Cause +His truer instinct sought. + +He saw these mountains in the light +Which now across them shines; +This lake, in summer sunset bright, +Walled round with sombering pines. +God near him seemed; from earth and skies +His loving voice he beard, +As, face to face, in Paradise, +Man stood before the Lord. + +Thanks, O our Father! that, like him, +Thy tender love I see, +In radiant hill and woodland dim, +And tinted sunset sea. +For not in mockery dost Thou fill +Our earth with light and grace; +Thou hid'st no dark and cruel will +Behind Thy smiling face! +1849. + + + +AUTUMN THOUGHTS + +Gone hath the Spring, with all its flowers, +And gone the Summer's pomp and show, +And Autumn, in his leafless bowers, +Is waiting for the Winter's snow. + +I said to Earth, so cold and gray, +"An emblem of myself thou art." +"Not so," the Earth did seem to say, +"For Spring shall warm my frozen heart." +I soothe my wintry sleep with dreams +Of warmer sun and softer rain, +And wait to hear the sound of streams +And songs of merry birds again. + +But thou, from whom the Spring hath gone, +For whom the flowers no longer blow, +Who standest blighted and forlorn, +Like Autumn waiting for the snow; + +No hope is thine of sunnier hours, +Thy Winter shall no more depart; +No Spring revive thy wasted flowers, +Nor Summer warm thy frozen heart. +1849. + + + +ON RECEIVING AN EAGLE'S QUILL FROM LAKE SUPERIOR. + +All day the darkness and the cold +Upon my heart have lain, +Like shadows on the winter sky, +Like frost upon the pane; + +But now my torpid fancy wakes, +And, on thy Eagle's plume, +Rides forth, like Sindbad on his bird, +Or witch upon her broom! + +Below me roar the rocking pines, +Before me spreads the lake +Whose long and solemn-sounding waves +Against the sunset break. + +I hear the wild Rice-Eater thresh +The grain he has not sown; +I see, with flashing scythe of fire, +The prairie harvest mown! + +I hear the far-off voyager's horn; +I see the Yankee's trail,-- +His foot on every mountain-pass, +On every stream his sail. + +By forest, lake, and waterfall, +I see his pedler show; +The mighty mingling with the mean, +The lofty with the low. + +He's whittling by St. Mary's Falls, +Upon his loaded wain; +He's measuring o'er the Pictured Rocks, +With eager eyes of gain. + +I hear the mattock in the mine, +The axe-stroke in the dell, +The clamor from the Indian lodge, +The Jesuit chapel bell! + +I see the swarthy trappers come +From Mississippi's springs; +And war-chiefs with their painted brows, +And crests of eagle wings. + +Behind the scared squaw's birch canoe, +The steamer smokes and raves; +And city lots are staked for sale +Above old Indian graves. + +I hear the tread of pioneers +Of nations yet to be; +The first low wash of waves, where soon +Shall roll a human sea. + +The rudiments of empire here +Are plastic yet and warm; +The chaos of a mighty world +Is rounding into form! + +Each rude and jostling fragment soon +Its fitting place shall find,-- +The raw material of a State, +Its muscle and its mind! + +And, westering still, the star which leads +The New World in its train +Has tipped with fire the icy spears +Of many a mountain chain. + +The snowy cones of Oregon +Are kindling on its way; +And California's golden sands +Gleam brighter in its ray! + +Then blessings on thy eagle quill, +As, wandering far and wide, +I thank thee for this twilight dream +And Fancy's airy ride! + +Yet, welcomer than regal plumes, +Which Western trappers find, +Thy free and pleasant thoughts, chance sown, +Like feathers on the wind. + +Thy symbol be the mountain-bird, +Whose glistening quill I hold; +Thy home the ample air of hope, +And memory's sunset gold! + +In thee, let joy with duty join, +And strength unite with love, +The eagle's pinions folding round +The warm heart of the dove! + +So, when in darkness sleeps the vale +Where still the blind bird clings +The sunshine of the upper sky +Shall glitter on thy wings! +1849. + + + +APRIL. + + "The spring comes slowly up this way." + Christabel. + +'T is the noon of the spring-time, yet never a bird +In the wind-shaken elm or the maple is heard; +For green meadow-grasses wide levels of snow, +And blowing of drifts where the crocus should blow; +Where wind-flower and violet, amber and white, +On south-sloping brooksides should smile in the light, +O'er the cold winter-beds of their late-waking roots +The frosty flake eddies, the ice-crystal shoots; +And, longing for light, under wind-driven heaps, +Round the boles of the pine-wood the ground-laurel creeps, +Unkissed of the sunshine, unbaptized of showers, +With buds scarcely swelled, which should burst into flowers +We wait for thy coming, sweet wind of the south! +For the touch of thy light wings, the kiss of thy mouth; +For the yearly evangel thou bearest from God, +Resurrection and life to the graves of the sod! +Up our long river-valley, for days, have not ceased +The wail and the shriek of the bitter northeast, +Raw and chill, as if winnowed through ices and snow, +All the way from the land of the wild Esquimau, +Until all our dreams of the land of the blest, +Like that red hunter's, turn to the sunny southwest. +O soul of the spring-time, its light and its breath, +Bring warmth to this coldness, bring life to this death; +Renew the great miracle; let us behold +The stone from the mouth of the sepulchre rolled, +And Nature, like Lazarus, rise, as of old! +Let our faith, which in darkness and coldness has lain, +Revive with the warmth and the brightness again, +And in blooming of flower and budding of tree +The symbols and types of our destiny see; +The life of the spring-time, the life of the whole, +And, as sun to the sleeping earth, love to the soul! +1852. + + + +PICTURES + +I. +Light, warmth, and sprouting greenness, and o'er all +Blue, stainless, steel-bright ether, raining down +Tranquillity upon the deep-hushed town, +The freshening meadows, and the hillsides brown; +Voice of the west-wind from the hills of pine, +And the brimmed river from its distant fall, +Low hum of bees, and joyous interlude +Of bird-songs in the streamlet-skirting wood,-- +Heralds and prophecies of sound and sight, +Blessed forerunners of the warmth and light, +Attendant angels to the house of prayer, +With reverent footsteps keeping pace with mine,-- +Once more, through God's great love, with you I share +A morn of resurrection sweet and fair +As that which saw, of old, in Palestine, +Immortal Love uprising in fresh bloom +From the dark night and winter of the tomb! +2d, 5th mo., 1852. + +II. +White with its sun-bleached dust, the pathway winds +Before me; dust is on the shrunken grass, +And on the trees beneath whose boughs I pass; +Frail screen against the Hunter of the sky, +Who, glaring on me with his lidless eye, +While mounting with his dog-star high and higher +Ambushed in light intolerable, unbinds +The burnished quiver of his shafts of fire. +Between me and the hot fields of his South +A tremulous glow, as from a furnace-mouth, +Glimmers and swims before my dazzled sight, +As if the burning arrows of his ire +Broke as they fell, and shattered into light; +Yet on my cheek I feel the western wind, +And hear it telling to the orchard trees, +And to the faint and flower-forsaken bees, +Tales of fair meadows, green with constant streams, +And mountains rising blue and cool behind, +Where in moist dells the purple orchis gleams, +And starred with white the virgin's bower is twined. +So the o'erwearied pilgrim, as he fares +Along life's summer waste, at times is fanned, +Even at noontide, by the cool, sweet airs +Of a serener and a holier land, +Fresh as the morn, and as the dewfall bland. +Breath of the blessed Heaven for which we pray, +Blow from the eternal hills! make glad our earthly way! +8th mo., 1852. + + + +SUMMER BY THE LAKESIDE + +LAKE WINNIPESAUKEE. + +I. NOON. +White clouds, whose shadows haunt the deep, +Light mists, whose soft embraces keep +The sunshine on the hills asleep! + +O isles of calm! O dark, still wood! +And stiller skies that overbrood +Your rest with deeper quietude! + +O shapes and hues, dim beckoning, through +Yon mountain gaps, my longing view +Beyond the purple and the blue, + +To stiller sea and greener land, +And softer lights and airs more bland, +And skies,--the hollow of God's hand! + +Transfused through you, O mountain friends! +With mine your solemn spirit blends, +And life no more hath separate ends. + +I read each misty mountain sign, +I know the voice of wave and pine, +And I am yours, and ye are mine. + +Life's burdens fall, its discords cease, +I lapse into the glad release +Of Nature's own exceeding peace. + +O welcome calm of heart and mind! +As falls yon fir-tree's loosened rind +To leave a tenderer growth behind, + +So fall the weary years away; +A child again, my head I lay +Upon the lap of this sweet day. + +This western wind hath Lethean powers, +Yon noonday cloud nepenthe showers, +The lake is white with lotus-flowers! + +Even Duty's voice is faint and low, +And slumberous Conscience, waking slow, +Forgets her blotted scroll to show. + +The Shadow which pursues us all, +Whose ever-nearing steps appall, +Whose voice we hear behind us call,-- + +That Shadow blends with mountain gray, +It speaks but what the light waves say,-- +Death walks apart from Fear to-day! + +Rocked on her breast, these pines and I +Alike on Nature's love rely; +And equal seems to live or die. + +Assured that He whose presence fills +With light the spaces of these hills +No evil to His creatures wills, + +The simple faith remains, that He +Will do, whatever that may be, +The best alike for man and tree. + +What mosses over one shall grow, +What light and life the other know, +Unanxious, leaving Him to show. + + +II. EVENING. +Yon mountain's side is black with night, +While, broad-orhed, o'er its gleaming crown +The moon, slow-rounding into sight, +On the hushed inland sea looks down. + +How start to light the clustering isles, +Each silver-hemmed! How sharply show +The shadows of their rocky piles, +And tree-tops in the wave below! + +How far and strange the mountains seem, +Dim-looming through the pale, still light +The vague, vast grouping of a dream, +They stretch into the solemn night. + +Beneath, lake, wood, and peopled vale, +Hushed by that presence grand and grave, +Are silent, save the cricket's wail, +And low response of leaf and wave. + +Fair scenes! whereto the Day and Night +Make rival love, I leave ye soon, +What time before the eastern light +The pale ghost of the setting moon + +Shall hide behind yon rocky spines, +And the young archer, Morn, shall break +His arrows on the mountain pines, +And, golden-sandalled, walk the lake! + +Farewell! around this smiling bay +Gay-hearted Health, and Life in bloom, +With lighter steps than mine, may stray +In radiant summers yet to come. + +But none shall more regretful leave +These waters and these hills than I +Or, distant, fonder dream how eve +Or dawn is painting wave and sky; + +How rising moons shine sad and mild +On wooded isle and silvering bay; +Or setting suns beyond the piled +And purple mountains lead the day; + +Nor laughing girl, nor bearding boy, +Nor full-pulsed manhood, lingering here, +Shall add, to life's abounding joy, +The charmed repose to suffering dear. + +Still waits kind Nature to impart +Her choicest gifts to such as gain +An entrance to her loving heart +Through the sharp discipline of pain. + +Forever from the Hand that takes +One blessing from us others fall; +And, soon or late, our Father makes +His perfect recompense to all! + +Oh, watched by Silence and the Night, +And folded in the strong embrace +Of the great mountains, with the light +Of the sweet heavens upon thy face, + +Lake of the Northland! keep thy dower +Of beauty still, and while above +Thy solemn mountains speak of power, +Be thou the mirror of God's love. +1853. + + + +THE FRUIT-GIFT. + +Last night, just as the tints of autumn's sky +Of sunset faded from our hills and streams, +I sat, vague listening, lapped in twilight dreams, +To the leaf's rustle, and the cricket's cry. + +Then, like that basket, flush with summer fruit, +Dropped by the angels at the Prophet's foot, +Came, unannounced, a gift of clustered sweetness, +Full-orbed, and glowing with the prisoned beams +Of summery suns, and rounded to completeness +By kisses of the south-wind and the dew. +Thrilled with a glad surprise, methought I knew +The pleasure of the homeward-turning Jew, +When Eshcol's clusters on his shoulders lay, +Dropping their sweetness on his desert way. + +I said, "This fruit beseems no world of sin. +Its parent vine, rooted in Paradise, +O'ercrept the wall, and never paid the price +Of the great mischief,--an ambrosial tree, +Eden's exotic, somehow smuggled in, +To keep the thorns and thistles company." +Perchance our frail, sad mother plucked in haste +A single vine-slip as she passed the gate, +Where the dread sword alternate paled and burned, +And the stern angel, pitying her fate, +Forgave the lovely trespasser, and turned +Aside his face of fire; and thus the waste +And fallen world hath yet its annual taste +Of primal good, to prove of sin the cost, +And show by one gleaned ear the mighty harvest lost. +1854. + + + +FLOWERS IN WINTER + +PAINTED UPON A PORTE LIVRE. + +How strange to greet, this frosty morn, +In graceful counterfeit of flowers, +These children of the meadows, born +Of sunshine and of showers! + +How well the conscious wood retains +The pictures of its flower-sown home, +The lights and shades, the purple stains, +And golden hues of bloom! + +It was a happy thought to bring +To the dark season's frost and rime +This painted memory of spring, +This dream of summer-time. + +Our hearts are lighter for its sake, +Our fancy's age renews its youth, +And dim-remembered fictions take +The guise of--present truth. + +A wizard of the Merrimac,-- +So old ancestral legends say, +Could call green leaf and blossom back +To frosted stem and spray. + +The dry logs of the cottage wall, +Beneath his touch, put out their leaves +The clay-bound swallow, at his call, +Played round the icy eaves. + +The settler saw his oaken flail +Take bud, and bloom before his eyes; +From frozen pools he saw the pale, +Sweet summer lilies rise. + +To their old homes, by man profaned, +Came the sad dryads, exiled long, +And through their leafy tongues complained +Of household use and wrong. + +The beechen platter sprouted wild, +The pipkin wore its old-time green +The cradle o'er the sleeping child +Became a leafy screen. + +Haply our gentle friend hath met, +While wandering in her sylvan quest, +Haunting his native woodlands yet, +That Druid of the West; + +And, while the dew on leaf and flower +Glistened in moonlight clear and still, +Learned the dusk wizard's spell of power, +And caught his trick of skill. + +But welcome, be it new or old, +The gift which makes the day more bright, +And paints, upon the ground of cold +And darkness, warmth and light. + +Without is neither gold nor green; +Within, for birds, the birch-logs sing; +Yet, summer-like, we sit between +The autumn and the spring. + +The one, with bridal blush of rose, +And sweetest breath of woodland balm, +And one whose matron lips unclose +In smiles of saintly calm. + +Fill soft and deep, O winter snow! +The sweet azalea's oaken dells, +And hide the bank where roses blow, +And swing the azure bells! + +O'erlay the amber violet's leaves, +The purple aster's brookside home, +Guard all the flowers her pencil gives +A life beyond their bloom. + +And she, when spring comes round again, +By greening slope and singing flood +Shall wander, seeking, not in vain, +Her darlings of the wood. +1855. + + + +THE MAYFLOWERS + + The trailing arbutus, or mayflower, grows abundantly in the + vicinity of Plymouth, and was the first flower that greeted the + Pilgrims after their fearful winter. The name mayflower was + familiar in England, as the application of it to the historic + vessel shows, but it was applied by the English, and still is, to + the hawthorn. Its use in New England in connection with _Epigma + repens _dates from a very early day, some claiming that the first + Pilgrims so used it, in affectionate memory of the vessel and its + English flower association. + +Sad Mayflower! watched by winter stars, +And nursed by winter gales, +With petals of the sleeted spars, +And leaves of frozen sails! + +What had she in those dreary hours, +Within her ice-rimmed bay, +In common with the wild-wood flowers, +The first sweet smiles of May? + +Yet, "God be praised!" the Pilgrim said, +Who saw the blossoms peer +Above the brown leaves, dry and dead, +"Behold our Mayflower here!" + +"God wills it: here our rest shall be, +Our years of wandering o'er; +For us the Mayflower of the sea +Shall spread her sails no more." + +O sacred flowers of faith and hope, +As sweetly now as then +Ye bloom on many a birchen slope, +In many a pine-dark glen. + +Behind the sea-wall's rugged length, +Unchanged, your leaves unfold, +Like love behind the manly strength +Of the brave hearts of old. + +So live the fathers in their sons, +Their sturdy faith be ours, +And ours the love that overruns +Its rocky strength with flowers! + +The Pilgrim's wild and wintry day +Its shadow round us draws; +The Mayflower of his stormy bay, +Our Freedom's struggling cause. + +But warmer suns erelong shall bring +To life the frozen sod; +And through dead leaves of hope shall spring +Afresh the flowers of God! +1856. + + + +THE LAST WALK IN AUTUMN. + +I. +O'er the bare woods, whose outstretched hands +Plead with the leaden heavens in vain, +I see, beyond the valley lands, +The sea's long level dim with rain. +Around me all things, stark and dumb, +Seem praying for the snows to come, +And, for the summer bloom and greenness gone, +With winter's sunset lights and dazzling morn atone. + +II. +Along the river's summer walk, +The withered tufts of asters nod; +And trembles on its arid stalk +The boar plume of the golden-rod. +And on a ground of sombre fir, +And azure-studded juniper, +The silver birch its buds of purple shows, +And scarlet berries tell where bloomed the sweet wild-rose! + +III. +With mingled sound of horns and bells, +A far-heard clang, the wild geese fly, +Storm-sent, from Arctic moors and fells, +Like a great arrow through the sky, +Two dusky lines converged in one, +Chasing the southward-flying sun; +While the brave snow-bird and the hardy jay +Call to them from the pines, as if to bid them stay. + +IV. +I passed this way a year ago +The wind blew south; the noon of day +Was warm as June's; and save that snow +Flecked the low mountains far away, +And that the vernal-seeming breeze +Mocked faded grass and leafless trees, +I might have dreamed of summer as I lay, +Watching the fallen leaves with the soft wind at play. + +V. +Since then, the winter blasts have piled +The white pagodas of the snow +On these rough slopes, and, strong and wild, +Yon river, in its overflow +Of spring-time rain and sun, set free, +Crashed with its ices to the sea; +And over these gray fields, then green and gold, +The summer corn has waved, the thunder's organ rolled. + +VI. +Rich gift of God! A year of time +What pomp of rise and shut of day, +What hues wherewith our Northern clime +Makes autumn's dropping woodlands gay, +What airs outblown from ferny dells, +And clover-bloom and sweetbrier smells, +What songs of brooks and birds, what fruits and flowers, +Green woods and moonlit snows, have in its round been ours! + +VII. +I know not how, in other lands, +The changing seasons come and go; +What splendors fall on Syrian sands, +What purple lights on Alpine snow! +Nor how the pomp of sunrise waits +On Venice at her watery gates; +A dream alone to me is Arno's vale, +And the Alhambra's halls are but a traveller's tale. + +VIII. +Yet, on life's current, he who drifts +Is one with him who rows or sails +And he who wanders widest lifts +No more of beauty's jealous veils +Than he who from his doorway sees +The miracle of flowers and trees, +Feels the warm Orient in the noonday air, +And from cloud minarets hears the sunset call to prayer! + +IX. +The eye may well be glad that looks +Where Pharpar's fountains rise and fall; +But he who sees his native brooks +Laugh in the sun, has seen them all. +The marble palaces of Ind +Rise round him in the snow and wind; +From his lone sweetbrier Persian Hafiz smiles, +And Rome's cathedral awe is in his woodland aisles. + +X. +And thus it is my fancy blends +The near at hand and far and rare; +And while the same horizon bends +Above the silver-sprinkled hair +Which flashed the light of morning skies +On childhood's wonder-lifted eyes, +Within its round of sea and sky and field, +Earth wheels with all her zones, the Kosmos stands revealed. + +XI. +And thus the sick man on his bed, +The toiler to his task-work bound, +Behold their prison-walls outspread, +Their clipped horizon widen round! +While freedom-giving fancy waits, +Like Peter's angel at the gates, +The power is theirs to baffle care and pain, +To bring the lost world back, and make it theirs again! + +XII. +What lack of goodly company, +When masters of the ancient lyre +Obey my call, and trace for me +Their words of mingled tears and fire! +I talk with Bacon, grave and wise, +I read the world with Pascal's eyes; +And priest and sage, with solemn brows austere, +And poets, garland-bound, the Lords of Thought, draw near. + +XIII. +Methinks, O friend, I hear thee say, + "In vain the human heart we mock; +Bring living guests who love the day, +Not ghosts who fly at crow of cock! +The herbs we share with flesh and blood +Are better than ambrosial food +With laurelled shades." I grant it, nothing loath, +But doubly blest is he who can partake of both. + +XIV. +He who might Plato's banquet grace, +Have I not seen before me sit, +And watched his puritanic face, +With more than Eastern wisdom lit? +Shrewd mystic! who, upon the back +Of his Poor Richard's Almanac, +Writing the Sufi's song, the Gentoo's dream, +Links Manu's age of thought to Fulton's age of steam! + +XV. +Here too, of answering love secure, +Have I not welcomed to my hearth +The gentle pilgrim troubadour, +Whose songs have girdled half the earth; +Whose pages, like the magic mat +Whereon the Eastern lover sat, +Have borne me over Rhine-land's purple vines, +And Nubia's tawny sands, and Phrygia's mountain pines! + +XVI. +And he, who to the lettered wealth +Of ages adds the lore unpriced, +The wisdom and the moral health, +The ethics of the school of Christ; +The statesman to his holy trust, +As the Athenian archon, just, +Struck down, exiled like him for truth alone, +Has he not graced my home with beauty all his own? + +XVII. +What greetings smile, what farewells wave, +What loved ones enter and depart! +The good, the beautiful, the brave, +The Heaven-lent treasures of the heart! +How conscious seems the frozen sod +And beechen slope whereon they trod +The oak-leaves rustle, and the dry grass bends +Beneath the shadowy feet of lost or absent friends. + +XVIII. +Then ask not why to these bleak hills +I cling, as clings the tufted moss, +To bear the winter's lingering chills, +The mocking spring's perpetual loss. +I dream of lands where summer smiles, +And soft winds blow from spicy isles, +But scarce would Ceylon's breath of flowers be sweet, +Could I not feel thy soil, New England, at my feet! + +XIX. +At times I long for gentler skies, +And bathe in dreams of softer air, +But homesick tears would fill the eyes +That saw the Cross without the Bear. +The pine must whisper to the palm, +The north-wind break the tropic calm; +And with the dreamy languor of the Line, +The North's keen virtue blend, and strength to beauty join. + +XX. +Better to stem with heart and hand +The roaring tide of life, than lie, +Unmindful, on its flowery strand, +Of God's occasions drifting by +Better with naked nerve to bear +The needles of this goading air, +Than, in the lap of sensual ease, forego +The godlike power to do, the godlike aim to know. + +XXI. +Home of my heart! to me more fair +Than gay Versailles or Windsor's halls, +The painted, shingly town-house where +The freeman's vote for Freedom falls! +The simple roof where prayer is made, +Than Gothic groin and colonnade; +The living temple of the heart of man, +Than Rome's sky-mocking vault, or many-spired Milan! + +XXII. +More dear thy equal village schools, +Where rich and poor the Bible read, +Than classic halls where Priestcraft rules, +And Learning wears the chains of Creed; +Thy glad Thanksgiving, gathering in +The scattered sheaves of home and kin, +Than the mad license ushering Lenten pains, +Or holidays of slaves who laugh and dance in chains. + +XXIII. +And sweet homes nestle in these dales, +And perch along these wooded swells; +And, blest beyond Arcadian vales, +They hear the sound of Sabbath bells! +Here dwells no perfect man sublime, +Nor woman winged before her time, +But with the faults and follies of the race, +Old home-bred virtues hold their not unhonored place. + +XXIV. +Here manhood struggles for the sake +Of mother, sister, daughter, wife, +The graces and the loves which make +The music of the march of life; +And woman, in her daily round +Of duty, walks on holy ground. +No unpaid menial tills the soil, nor here +Is the bad lesson learned at human rights to sneer. + +XXV. +Then let the icy north-wind blow +The trumpets of the coming storm, +To arrowy sleet and blinding snow +Yon slanting lines of rain transform. +Young hearts shall hail the drifted cold, +As gayly as I did of old; +And I, who watch them through the frosty pane, +Unenvious, live in them my boyhood o'er again. + +XXVI. +And I will trust that He who heeds +The life that hides in mead and wold, +Who hangs yon alder's crimson beads, +And stains these mosses green and gold, +Will still, as He hath done, incline +His gracious care to me and mine; +Grant what we ask aright, from wrong debar, +And, as the earth grows dark, make brighter every star! + +XXVII. +I have not seen, I may not see, +My hopes for man take form in fact, +But God will give the victory +In due time; in that faith I act. +And lie who sees the future sure, +The baffling present may endure, +And bless, meanwhile, the unseen Hand that leads +The heart's desires beyond the halting step of deeds. + +XXVIII. +And thou, my song, I send thee forth, +Where harsher songs of mine have flown; +Go, find a place at home and hearth +Where'er thy singer's name is known; +Revive for him the kindly thought +Of friends; and they who love him not, +Touched by some strain of thine, perchance may take +The hand he proffers all, and thank him for thy sake. +1857. + + + +THE FIRST FLOWERS + +For ages on our river borders, +These tassels in their tawny bloom, +And willowy studs of downy silver, +Have prophesied of Spring to come. + +For ages have the unbound waters +Smiled on them from their pebbly hem, +And the clear carol of the robin +And song of bluebird welcomed them. + +But never yet from smiling river, +Or song of early bird, have they +Been greeted with a gladder welcome +Than whispers from my heart to-day. + +They break the spell of cold and darkness, +The weary watch of sleepless pain; +And from my heart, as from the river, +The ice of winter melts again. + +Thanks, Mary! for this wild-wood token +Of Freya's footsteps drawing near; +Almost, as in the rune of Asgard, +The growing of the grass I hear. + +It is as if the pine-trees called me +From ceiled room and silent books, +To see the dance of woodland shadows, +And hear the song of April brooks! + +As in the old Teutonic ballad +Of Odenwald live bird and tree, +Together live in bloom and music, +I blend in song thy flowers and thee. + +Earth's rocky tablets bear forever +The dint of rain and small bird's track +Who knows but that my idle verses +May leave some trace by Merrimac! + +The bird that trod the mellow layers +Of the young earth is sought in vain; +The cloud is gone that wove the sandstone, +From God's design, with threads of rain! + +So, when this fluid age we live in +Shall stiffen round my careless rhyme, +Who made the vagrant tracks may puzzle +The savants of the coming time; + +And, following out their dim suggestions, +Some idly-curious hand may draw +My doubtful portraiture, as Cuvier +Drew fish and bird from fin and claw. + +And maidens in the far-off twilights, +Singing my words to breeze and stream, +Shall wonder if the old-time Mary +Were real, or the rhymer's dream! +1st 3d mo., 1857. + + + +THE OLD BURYING-GROUND. + +Our vales are sweet with fern and rose, +Our hills are maple-crowned; +But not from them our fathers chose +The village burying-ground. + +The dreariest spot in all the land +To Death they set apart; +With scanty grace from Nature's hand, +And none from that of Art. + +A winding wall of mossy stone, +Frost-flung and broken, lines +A lonesome acre thinly grown +With grass and wandering vines. + +Without the wall a birch-tree shows +Its drooped and tasselled head; +Within, a stag-horned sumach grows, +Fern-leafed, with spikes of red. + +There, sheep that graze the neighboring plain +Like white ghosts come and go, +The farm-horse drags his fetlock chain, +The cow-bell tinkles slow. + +Low moans the river from its bed, +The distant pines reply; +Like mourners shrinking from the dead, +They stand apart and sigh. + +Unshaded smites the summer sun, +Unchecked the winter blast; +The school-girl learns the place to shun, +With glances backward cast. + +For thus our fathers testified, +That he might read who ran, +The emptiness of human pride, +The nothingness of man. + +They dared not plant the grave with flowers, +Nor dress the funeral sod, +Where, with a love as deep as ours, +They left their dead with God. + +The hard and thorny path they kept +From beauty turned aside; +Nor missed they over those who slept +The grace to life denied. + +Yet still the wilding flowers would blow, +The golden leaves would fall, +The seasons come, the seasons go, +And God be good to all. + +Above the graves the' blackberry hung +In bloom and green its wreath, +And harebells swung as if they rung +The chimes of peace beneath. + +The beauty Nature loves to share, +The gifts she hath for all, +The common light, the common air, +O'ercrept the graveyard's wall. + +It knew the glow of eventide, +The sunrise and the noon, +And glorified and sanctified +It slept beneath the moon. + +With flowers or snow-flakes for its sod, +Around the seasons ran, +And evermore the love of God +Rebuked the fear of man. + +We dwell with fears on either hand, +Within a daily strife, +And spectral problems waiting stand +Before the gates of life. + +The doubts we vainly seek to solve, +The truths we know, are one; +The known and nameless stars revolve +Around the Central Sun. + +And if we reap as we have sown, +And take the dole we deal, +The law of pain is love alone, +The wounding is to heal. + +Unharmed from change to change we glide, +We fall as in our dreams; +The far-off terror at our side +A smiling angel seems. + +Secure on God's all-tender heart +Alike rest great and small; +Why fear to lose our little part, +When He is pledged for all? + +O fearful heart and troubled brain +Take hope and strength from this,-- +That Nature never hints in vain, +Nor prophesies amiss. + +Her wild birds sing the same sweet stave, +Her lights and airs are given +Alike to playground and the grave; +And over both is Heaven. +1858 + + + +THE PALM-TREE. + +Is it the palm, the cocoa-palm, +On the Indian Sea, by the isles of balm? +Or is it a ship in the breezeless calm? + +A ship whose keel is of palm beneath, +Whose ribs of palm have a palm-bark sheath, +And a rudder of palm it steereth with. + +Branches of palm are its spars and rails, +Fibres of palm are its woven sails, +And the rope is of palm that idly trails! + +What does the good ship bear so well? +The cocoa-nut with its stony shell, +And the milky sap of its inner cell. + +What are its jars, so smooth and fine, +But hollowed nuts, filled with oil and wine, +And the cabbage that ripens under the Line? + +Who smokes his nargileh, cool and calm? +The master, whose cunning and skill could charm +Cargo and ship from the bounteous palm. + +In the cabin he sits on a palm-mat soft, +From a beaker of palm his drink is quaffed, +And a palm-thatch shields from the sun aloft! + +His dress is woven of palmy strands, +And he holds a palm-leaf scroll in his hands, +Traced with the Prophet's wise commands! + +The turban folded about his head +Was daintily wrought of the palm-leaf braid, +And the fan that cools him of palm was made. + +Of threads of palm was the carpet spun +Whereon he kneels when the day is done, +And the foreheads of Islam are bowed as one! + +To him the palm is a gift divine, +Wherein all uses of man combine,-- +House, and raiment, and food, and wine! + +And, in the hour of his great release, +His need of the palm shall only cease +With the shroud wherein he lieth in peace. + +"Allah il Allah!" he sings his psalm, +On the Indian Sea, by the isles of balm; +"Thanks to Allah who gives the palm!" +1858. + + + +THE RIVER PATH. + +No bird-song floated down the hill, +The tangled bank below was still; + +No rustle from the birchen stem, +No ripple from the water's hem. + +The dusk of twilight round us grew, +We felt the falling of the dew; + +For, from us, ere the day was done, +The wooded hills shut out the sun. + +But on the river's farther side +We saw the hill-tops glorified,-- + +A tender glow, exceeding fair, +A dream of day without its glare. + +With us the damp, the chill, the gloom +With them the sunset's rosy bloom; + +While dark, through willowy vistas seen, +The river rolled in shade between. + +From out the darkness where we trod, +We gazed upon those bills of God, + +Whose light seemed not of moon or sun. +We spake not, but our thought was one. + +We paused, as if from that bright shore +Beckoned our dear ones gone before; + +And stilled our beating hearts to hear +The voices lost to mortal ear! + +Sudden our pathway turned from night; +The hills swung open to the light; + +Through their green gates the sunshine showed, +A long, slant splendor downward flowed. + +Down glade and glen and bank it rolled; +It bridged the shaded stream with gold; + +And, borne on piers of mist, allied +The shadowy with the sunlit side! + +"So," prayed we, "when our feet draw near +The river dark, with mortal fear, + +"And the night cometh chill with dew, +O Father! let Thy light break through! + +"So let the hills of doubt divide, +So bridge with faith the sunless tide! + +"So let the eyes that fail on earth +On Thy eternal hills look forth; + +"And in Thy beckoning angels know +The dear ones whom we loved below!" +1880. + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, THE FROST SPIRIT, ETC. *** +By John Greenleaf Whittier + +****** This file should be named 9568.txt or 9568.zip ****** + +This eBook was produced by David Widger + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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