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diff --git a/9572.txt b/9572.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0e9fe66 --- /dev/null +++ b/9572.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3018 @@ +Project Gutenberg EBook, Religious Poems, Part 1., by Whittier +Volume II., The Works of Whittier: Poems of Nature, Poems Subjective +and Reminiscent, Religious Poems +#17 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: Religious Poems, Part 1., 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 #9572] +[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, RELIGIOUS POEMS I. *** + + + + +This eBook was produced by David Widger + + + + + POEMS OF NATURE + + POEMS SUBJECTIVE AND REMINISCENT + + RELIGIOUS POEMS + + BY + JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER + + + +CONTENTS: + +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 + + + + + RELIGIOUS POEMS + + +THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM + +Where Time the measure of his hours +By changeful bud and blossom keeps, +And, like a young bride crowned with flowers, +Fair Shiraz in her garden sleeps; + +Where, to her poet's turban stone, +The Spring her gift of flowers imparts, +Less sweet than those his thoughts have sown +In the warm soil of Persian hearts: + +There sat the stranger, where the shade +Of scattered date-trees thinly lay, +While in the hot clear heaven delayed +The long and still and weary day. + +Strange trees and fruits above him hung, +Strange odors filled the sultry air, +Strange birds upon the branches swung, +Strange insect voices murmured there. + +And strange bright blossoms shone around, +Turned sunward from the shadowy bowers, +As if the Gheber's soul had found +A fitting home in Iran's flowers. + +Whate'er he saw, whate'er he heard, +Awakened feelings new and sad,-- +No Christian garb, nor Christian word, +Nor church with Sabbath-bell chimes glad, + +But Moslem graves, with turban stones, +And mosque-spires gleaming white, in view, +And graybeard Mollahs in low tones +Chanting their Koran service through. + +The flowers which smiled on either hand, +Like tempting fiends, were such as they +Which once, o'er all that Eastern land, +As gifts on demon altars lay. + +As if the burning eye of Baal +The servant of his Conqueror knew, +From skies which knew no cloudy veil, +The Sun's hot glances smote him through. + +"Ah me!" the lonely stranger said, +"The hope which led my footsteps on, +And light from heaven around them shed, +O'er weary wave and waste, is gone! + +"Where are the harvest fields all white, +For Truth to thrust her sickle in? +Where flock the souls, like doves in flight, +From the dark hiding-place of sin? + +"A silent-horror broods o'er all,-- +The burden of a hateful spell,-- +The very flowers around recall +The hoary magi's rites of hell! + +"And what am I, o'er such a land +The banner of the Cross to bear? +Dear Lord, uphold me with Thy hand, +Thy strength with human weakness share!" + +He ceased; for at his very feet +In mild rebuke a floweret smiled; +How thrilled his sinking heart to greet +The Star-flower of the Virgin's child! + +Sown by some wandering Frank, it drew +Its life from alien air and earth, +And told to Paynim sun and dew +The story of the Saviour's birth. + +From scorching beams, in kindly mood, +The Persian plants its beauty screened, +And on its pagan sisterhood, +In love, the Christian floweret leaned. + +With tears of joy the wanderer felt +The darkness of his long despair +Before that hallowed symbol melt, +Which God's dear love had nurtured there. + +From Nature's face, that simple flower +The lines of sin and sadness swept; +And Magian pile and Paynim bower +In peace like that of Eden slept. + +Each Moslem tomb, and cypress old, +Looked holy through the sunset air; +And, angel-like, the Muezzin told +From tower and mosque the hour of prayer. + +With cheerful steps, the morrow's dawn +From Shiraz saw the stranger part; +The Star-flower of the Virgin-Born +Still blooming in his hopeful heart! +1830. + + + +THE CITIES OF THE PLAIN + +"Get ye up from the wrath of God's terrible day! +Ungirded, unsandalled, arise and away! +'T is the vintage of blood, 't is the fulness of time, +And vengeance shall gather the harvest of crime!" + +The warning was spoken--the righteous had gone, +And the proud ones of Sodom were feasting alone; +All gay was the banquet--the revel was long, +With the pouring of wine and the breathing of song. + +'T was an evening of beauty; the air was perfume, +The earth was all greenness, the trees were all bloom; +And softly the delicate viol was heard, +Like the murmur of love or the notes of a bird. + +And beautiful maidens moved down in the dance, +With the magic of motion and sunshine of glance +And white arms wreathed lightly, and tresses fell free +As the plumage of birds in some tropical tree. + +Where the shrines of foul idols were lighted on high, +And wantonness tempted the lust of the eye; +Midst rites of obsceneness, strange, loathsome, abhorred, +The blasphemer scoffed at the name of the Lord. + +Hark! the growl of the thunder,--the quaking of earth! +Woe, woe to the worship, and woe to the mirth! +The black sky has opened; there's flame in the air; +The red arm of vengeance is lifted and bare! + +Then the shriek of the dying rose wild where the song +And the low tone of love had been whispered along; +For the fierce flames went lightly o'er palace and bower, +Like the red tongues of demons, to blast and devour! + +Down, down on the fallen the red ruin rained, +And the reveller sank with his wine-cup undrained; +The foot of the dancer, the music's loved thrill, +And the shout and the laughter grew suddenly still. + +The last throb of anguish was fearfully given; +The last eye glared forth in its madness on Heaven! +The last groan of horror rose wildly and vain, +And death brooded over the pride of the Plain! +1831. + + + +THE CALL OF THE CHRISTIAN + +Not always as the whirlwind's rush +On Horeb's mount of fear, +Not always as the burning bush +To Midian's shepherd seer, +Nor as the awful voice which came +To Israel's prophet bards, +Nor as the tongues of cloven flame, +Nor gift of fearful words,-- + +Not always thus, with outward sign +Of fire or voice from Heaven, +The message of a truth divine, +The call of God is given! +Awaking in the human heart +Love for the true and right,-- +Zeal for the Christian's better part, +Strength for the Christian's fight. + +Nor unto manhood's heart alone +The holy influence steals +Warm with a rapture not its own, +The heart of woman feels! +As she who by Samaria's wall +The Saviour's errand sought,-- +As those who with the fervent Paul +And meek Aquila wrought: + +Or those meek ones whose martyrdom +Rome's gathered grandeur saw +Or those who in their Alpine home +Braved the Crusader's war, +When the green Vaudois, trembling, heard, +Through all its vales of death, +The martyr's song of triumph poured +From woman's failing breath. + +And gently, by a thousand things +Which o'er our spirits pass, +Like breezes o'er the harp's fine strings, +Or vapors o'er a glass, +Leaving their token strange and new +Of music or of shade, +The summons to the right and true +And merciful is made. + +Oh, then, if gleams of truth and light +Flash o'er thy waiting mind, +Unfolding to thy mental sight +The wants of human-kind; +If, brooding over human grief, +The earnest wish is known +To soothe and gladden with relief +An anguish not thine own; + +Though heralded with naught of fear, +Or outward sign or show; +Though only to the inward ear +It whispers soft and low; +Though dropping, as the manna fell, +Unseen, yet from above, +Noiseless as dew-fall, heed it well,--- +Thy Father's call of love! + + + +THE CRUCIFIXION. + +Sunlight upon Judha's hills! +And on the waves of Galilee; +On Jordan's stream, and on the rills +That feed the dead and sleeping sea! +Most freshly from the green wood springs +The light breeze on its scented wings; +And gayly quiver in the sun +The cedar tops of Lebanon! + +A few more hours,--a change hath come! +The sky is dark without a cloud! +The shouts of wrath and joy are dumb, +And proud knees unto earth are bowed. +A change is on the hill of Death, +The helmed watchers pant for breath, +And turn with wild and maniac eyes +From the dark scene of sacrifice! + +That Sacrifice!--the death of Him,-- +The Christ of God, the holy One! +Well may the conscious Heaven grow dim, +And blacken the beholding, Sun. +The wonted light hath fled away, +Night settles on the middle day, +And earthquake from his caverned bed +Is waking with a thrill of dread! + +The dead are waking underneath! +Their prison door is rent away! +And, ghastly with the seal of death, +They wander in the eye of day! +The temple of the Cherubim, +The House of God is cold and dim; +A curse is on its trembling walls, +Its mighty veil asunder falls! + +Well may the cavern-depths of Earth +Be shaken, and her mountains nod; +Well may the sheeted dead come forth +To see the suffering son of God! +Well may the temple-shrine grow dim, +And shadows veil the Cherubim, +When He, the chosen one of Heaven, +A sacrifice for guilt is given! + +And shall the sinful heart, alone, +Behold unmoved the fearful hour, +When Nature trembled on her throne, +And Death resigned his iron power? +Oh, shall the heart--whose sinfulness +Gave keenness to His sore distress, +And added to His tears of blood-- +Refuse its trembling gratitude! +1834. + + + +PALESTINE + +Blest land of Judaea! thrice hallowed of song, +Where the holiest of memories pilgrim-like throng; +In the shade of thy palms, by the shores of thy sea, +On the hills of thy beauty, my heart is with thee. + +With the eye of a spirit I look on that shore +Where pilgrim and prophet have lingered before; +With the glide of a spirit I traverse the sod +Made bright by the steps of the angels of God. + +Blue sea of the hills! in my spirit I hear +Thy waters, Gennesaret, chime on my ear; +Where the Lowly and Just with the people sat down, +And thy spray on the dust of His sandals was thrown. + +Beyond are Bethulia's mountains of green, +And the desolate hills of the wild Gadarene; +And I pause on the goat-crags of Tabor to see +The gleam of thy waters, O dark Galilee! + +Hark, a sound in the valley! where, swollen and strong, +Thy river, O Kishon, is sweeping along; +Where the Canaanite strove with Jehovah in vain, +And thy torrent grew dark with the blood of the slain. + +There down from his mountains stern Zebulon came, +And Naphthali's stag, with his eyeballs of flame, +And the chariots of Jabin rolled harmlessly on, +For the arm of the Lord was Abinoam's son! + +There sleep the still rocks and the caverns which rang +To the song which the beautiful prophetess sang, +When the princes of Issachar stood by her side, +And the shout of a host in its triumph replied. + +Lo, Bethlehem's hill-site before me is seen, +With the mountains around, and the valleys between; +There rested the shepherds of Judah, and there +The song of the angels rose sweet on the air. + +And Bethany's palm-trees in beauty still throw +Their shadows at noon on the ruins below; +But where are the sisters who hastened to greet +The lowly Redeemer, and sit at His feet? + +I tread where the twelve in their wayfaring trod; +I stand where they stood with the chosen of God-- +Where His blessing was heard and His lessons were taught, +Where the blind were restored and the healing was wrought. + +Oh, here with His flock the sad Wanderer came; +These hills He toiled over in grief are the same; +The founts where He drank by the wayside still flow, +And the same airs are blowing which breathed on His brow! + +And throned on her hills sits Jerusalem yet, +But with dust on her forehead, and chains on her feet; +For the crown of her pride to the mocker hath gone, +And the holy Shechinah is dark where it shone. + +But wherefore this dream of the earthly abode +Of Humanity clothed in the brightness of God? +Were my spirit but turned from the outward and dim, +It could gaze, even now, on the presence of Him! + +Not in clouds and in terrors, but gentle as when, +In love and in meekness, He moved among men; +And the voice which breathed peace to the waves of the sea +In the hush of my spirit would whisper to me! + +And what if my feet may not tread where He stood, +Nor my ears hear the dashing of Galilee's flood, +Nor my eyes see the cross which he bowed Him to bear, +Nor my knees press Gethsemane's garden of prayer. + +Yet, Loved of the Father, Thy Spirit is near +To the meek, and the lowly, and penitent here; +And the voice of Thy love is the same even now +As at Bethany's tomb or on Olivet's brow. + +Oh, the outward hath gone! but in glory and power. +The spirit surviveth the things of an hour; +Unchanged, undecaying, its Pentecost flame +On the heart's secret altar is burning the same +1837. + + + +HYMNS. + +FROM THE FRENCH OF LAMARTINE + + I. + "Encore un hymne, O ma lyre + Un hymn pour le Seigneur, + Un hymne dans mon delire, + Un hymne dans mon bonheur." + + + One hymn more, O my lyre! + Praise to the God above, + Of joy and life and love, + Sweeping its strings of fire! + +Oh, who the speed of bird and wind +And sunbeam's glance will lend to me, +That, soaring upward, I may find +My resting-place and home in Thee? +Thou, whom my soul, midst doubt and gloom, +Adoreth with a fervent flame,-- +Mysterious spirit! unto whom +Pertain nor sign nor name! + +Swiftly my lyre's soft murmurs go, +Up from the cold and joyless earth, +Back to the God who bade them flow, +Whose moving spirit sent them forth. +But as for me, O God! for me, +The lowly creature of Thy will, +Lingering and sad, I sigh to Thee, +An earth-bound pilgrim still! + +Was not my spirit born to shine +Where yonder stars and suns are glowing? +To breathe with them the light divine +From God's own holy altar flowing? +To be, indeed, whate'er the soul +In dreams hath thirsted for so long,-- +A portion of heaven's glorious whole +Of loveliness and song? + +Oh, watchers of the stars at night, +Who breathe their fire, as we the air,-- +Suns, thunders, stars, and rays of light, +Oh, say, is He, the Eternal, there? +Bend there around His awful throne +The seraph's glance, the angel's knee? +Or are thy inmost depths His own, +O wild and mighty sea? + +Thoughts of my soul, how swift ye go! +Swift as the eagle's glance of fire, +Or arrows from the archer's bow, +To the far aim of your desire! +Thought after thought, ye thronging rise, +Like spring-doves from the startled wood, +Bearing like them your sacrifice +Of music unto God! + +And shall these thoughts of joy and love +Come back again no more to me? +Returning like the patriarch's dove +Wing-weary from the eternal sea, +To bear within my longing arms +The promise-bough of kindlier skies, +Plucked from the green, immortal palms +Which shadow Paradise? + +All-moving spirit! freely forth +At Thy command the strong wind goes +Its errand to the passive earth, +Nor art can stay, nor strength oppose, +Until it folds its weary wing +Once more within the hand divine; +So, weary from its wandering, +My spirit turns to Thine! + +Child of the sea, the mountain stream, +From its dark caverns, hurries on, +Ceaseless, by night and morning's beam, +By evening's star and noontide's sun, +Until at last it sinks to rest, +O'erwearied, in the waiting sea, +And moans upon its mother's breast,-- +So turns my soul to Thee! + +O Thou who bidst the torrent flow, +Who lendest wings unto the wind,-- +Mover of all things! where art Thou? +Oh, whither shall I go to find +The secret of Thy resting-place? +Is there no holy wing for me, +That, soaring, I may search the space +Of highest heaven for Thee? + +Oh, would I were as free to rise +As leaves on autumn's whirlwind borne,-- +The arrowy light of sunset skies, +Or sound, or ray, or star of morn, +Which melts in heaven at twilight's close, +Or aught which soars unchecked and free +Through earth and heaven; that I might lose +Myself in finding Thee! + + + II. + LE CRI DE L'AME. + + "Quand le souffle divin qui flotte sur le monde." + +When the breath divine is flowing, +Zephyr-like o'er all things going, +And, as the touch of viewless fingers, +Softly on my soul it lingers, +Open to a breath the lightest, +Conscious of a touch the slightest,-- +As some calm, still lake, whereon +Sinks the snowy-bosomed swan, +And the glistening water-rings +Circle round her moving wings +When my upward gaze is turning +Where the stars of heaven are burning +Through the deep and dark abyss, +Flowers of midnight's wilderness, +Blowing with the evening's breath +Sweetly in their Maker's path +When the breaking day is flushing +All the east, and light is gushing +Upward through the horizon's haze, +Sheaf-like, with its thousand rays, +Spreading, until all above +Overflows with joy and love, +And below, on earth's green bosom, +All is changed to light and blossom: + +When my waking fancies over +Forms of brightness flit and hover +Holy as the seraphs are, +Who by Zion's fountains wear +On their foreheads, white and broad, +"Holiness unto the Lord!" +When, inspired with rapture high, +It would seem a single sigh +Could a world of love create; +That my life could know no date, +And my eager thoughts could fill +Heaven and Earth, o'erflowing still! + +Then, O Father! Thou alone, +From the shadow of Thy throne, +To the sighing of my breast +And its rapture answerest. +All my thoughts, which, upward winging, +Bathe where Thy own light is springing,-- +All my yearnings to be free +Are at echoes answering Thee! + +Seldom upon lips of mine, +Father! rests that name of Thine; +Deep within my inmost breast, +In the secret place of mind, +Like an awful presence shrined, +Doth the dread idea rest +Hushed and holy dwells it there, +Prompter of the silent prayer, +Lifting up my spirit's eye +And its faint, but earnest cry, +From its dark and cold abode, +Unto Thee, my Guide and God! +1837 + + + +THE FAMILIST'S HYMN. + + The Puritans of New England, even in their wilderness home, were + not exempted from the sectarian contentions which agitated the + mother country after the downfall of Charles the First, and of the + established Episcopacy. The Quakers, Baptists, and Catholics were + banished, on pain of death, from the Massachusetts Colony. One + Samuel Gorton, a bold and eloquent declaimer, after preaching for a + time in Boston against the doctrines of the Puritans, and declaring + that their churches were mere human devices, and their sacrament + and baptism an abomination, was driven out of the jurisdiction of + the colony, and compelled to seek a residence among the savages. He + gathered round him a considerable number of converts, who, like the + primitive Christians, shared all things in common. His opinions, + however, were so troublesome to the leading clergy of the colony, + that they instigated an attack upon his "Family" by an armed force, + which seized upon the principal men in it, and brought them into + Massachusetts, where they were sentenced to be kept at hard labor + in several towns (one only in each town), during the pleasure of + the General Court, they being forbidden, under severe penalties, to + utter any of their religious sentiments, except to such ministers + as might labor for their conversion. They were unquestionably + sincere in their opinions, and, whatever may have been their + errors, deserve to be ranked among those who have in all ages + suffered for the freedom of conscience. + +Father! to Thy suffering poor +Strength and grace and faith impart, +And with Thy own love restore +Comfort to the broken heart! +Oh, the failing ones confirm +With a holier strength of zeal! +Give Thou not the feeble worm +Helpless to the spoiler's heel! + +Father! for Thy holy sake +We are spoiled and hunted thus; +Joyful, for Thy truth we take +Bonds and burthens unto us +Poor, and weak, and robbed of all, +Weary with our daily task, +That Thy truth may never fall +Through our weakness, Lord, we ask. + +Round our fired and wasted homes +Flits the forest-bird unscared, +And at noon the wild beast comes +Where our frugal meal was shared; +For the song of praises there +Shrieks the crow the livelong day; +For the sound of evening prayer +Howls the evil beast of prey! + +Sweet the songs we loved to sing +Underneath Thy holy sky; +Words and tones that used to bring +Tears of joy in every eye; +Dear the wrestling hours of prayer, +When we gathered knee to knee, +Blameless youth and hoary hair, +Bowed, O God, alone to Thee. + +As Thine early children, Lord, +Shared their wealth and daily bread, +Even so, with one accord, +We, in love, each other fed. +Not with us the miser's hoard, +Not with us his grasping hand; +Equal round a common board, +Drew our meek and brother band! + +Safe our quiet Eden lay +When the war-whoop stirred the land +And the Indian turned away +From our home his bloody hand. +Well that forest-ranger saw, +That the burthen and the curse +Of the white man's cruel law +Rested also upon us. + +Torn apart, and driven forth +To our toiling hard and long, +Father! from the dust of earth +Lift we still our grateful song! +Grateful, that in bonds we share +In Thy love which maketh free; +Joyful, that the wrongs we bear, +Draw us nearer, Lord, to Thee! + +Grateful! that where'er we toil,-- +By Wachuset's wooded side, +On Nantucket's sea-worn isle, +Or by wild Neponset's tide,-- +Still, in spirit, we are near, +And our evening hymns, which rise +Separate and discordant here, +Meet and mingle in the skies! + +Let the scoffer scorn and mock, +Let the proud and evil priest +Rob the needy of his flock, +For his wine-cup and his feast,-- +Redden not Thy bolts in store +Through the blackness of Thy skies? +For the sighing of the poor +Wilt Thou not, at length, arise? + +Worn and wasted, oh! how long +Shall thy trodden poor complain? +In Thy name they bear the wrong, +In Thy cause the bonds of pain! +Melt oppression's heart of steel, +Let the haughty priesthood see, +And their blinded followers feel, +That in us they mock at Thee! + +In Thy time, O Lord of hosts, +Stretch abroad that hand to save +Which of old, on Egypt's coasts, +Smote apart the Red Sea's wave +Lead us from this evil land, +From the spoiler set us free, +And once more our gathered band, +Heart to heart, shall worship Thee! +1838. + + + +EZEKIEL + + Also, thou son of man, the children of thy people still are talking + against thee by the walls and in the doors of the houses, and speak + one to another, every one to his brother, saying, Come, I pray you, + and hear what is the word that cometh forth from the Lord. And they + come unto thee as the people cometh, and they sit before thee as my + people, and they hear thy words, but they will not do them: for + with their mouth they skew much love, but their heart goeth after + their covetousness. And, lo, thou art unto them as a very lovely + song of one that hath a pleasant voice, and can play well on an + instrument: for they hear thy words, but they do them not. And when + this cometh to pass, (lo, it will come,) then shall they know that + a prophet hath been among them.--EZEKIEL, xxxiii. 30-33. + +They hear Thee not, O God! nor see; +Beneath Thy rod they mock at Thee; +The princes of our ancient line +Lie drunken with Assyrian wine; +The priests around Thy altar speak +The false words which their hearers seek; +And hymns which Chaldea's wanton maids +Have sung in Dura's idol-shades +Are with the Levites' chant ascending, +With Zion's holiest anthems blending! + +On Israel's bleeding bosom set, +The heathen heel is crushing yet; +The towers upon our holy hill +Echo Chaldean footsteps still. +Our wasted shrines,--who weeps for them? +Who mourneth for Jerusalem? +Who turneth from his gains away? +Whose knee with mine is bowed to pray? +Who, leaving feast and purpling cup, +Takes Zion's lamentation up? + +A sad and thoughtful youth, I went +With Israel's early banishment; +And where the sullen Chebar crept, +The ritual of my fathers kept. +The water for the trench I drew, +The firstling of the flock I slew, +And, standing at the altar's side, +I shared the Levites' lingering pride, +That still, amidst her mocking foes, +The smoke of Zion's offering rose. + +In sudden whirlwind, cloud and flame, +The Spirit of the Highest came! +Before mine eyes a vision passed, +A glory terrible and vast; +With dreadful eyes of living things, +And sounding sweep of angel wings, +With circling light and sapphire throne, +And flame-like form of One thereon, +And voice of that dread Likeness sent +Down from the crystal firmament! + +The burden of a prophet's power +Fell on me in that fearful hour; +From off unutterable woes +The curtain of the future rose; +I saw far down the coming time +The fiery chastisement of crime; +With noise of mingling hosts, and jar +Of falling towers and shouts of war, +I saw the nations rise and fall, +Like fire-gleams on my tent's white wall. + +In dream and trance, I--saw the slain +Of Egypt heaped like harvest grain. +I saw the walls of sea-born Tyre +Swept over by the spoiler's fire; +And heard the low, expiring moan +Of Edom on his rocky throne; +And, woe is me! the wild lament +From Zion's desolation sent; +And felt within my heart each blow +Which laid her holy places low. + +In bonds and sorrow, day by day, +Before the pictured tile I lay; +And there, as in a mirror, saw +The coming of Assyria's war; +Her swarthy lines of spearmen pass +Like locusts through Bethhoron's grass; +I saw them draw their stormy hem +Of battle round Jerusalem; +And, listening, heard the Hebrew wail! + +Blend with the victor-trump of Baal! +Who trembled at my warning word? +Who owned the prophet of the Lord? +How mocked the rude, how scoffed the vile, +How stung the Levites' scornful smile, +As o'er my spirit, dark and slow, +The shadow crept of Israel's woe +As if the angel's mournful roll +Had left its record on my soul, +And traced in lines of darkness there +The picture of its great despair! + +Yet ever at the hour I feel +My lips in prophecy unseal. +Prince, priest, and Levite gather near, +And Salem's daughters haste to hear, +On Chebar's waste and alien shore, +The harp of Judah swept once more. +They listen, as in Babel's throng +The Chaldeans to the dancer's song, +Or wild sabbeka's nightly play,-- +As careless and as vain as they. + + . . . . . + +And thus, O Prophet-bard of old, +Hast thou thy tale of sorrow told +The same which earth's unwelcome seers +Have felt in all succeeding years. +Sport of the changeful multitude, +Nor calmly heard nor understood, +Their song has seemed a trick of art, +Their warnings but, the actor's part. +With bonds, and scorn, and evil will, +The world requites its prophets still. + +So was it when the Holy One +The garments of the flesh put on +Men followed where the Highest led +For common gifts of daily bread, +And gross of ear, of vision dim, +Owned not the Godlike power of Him. +Vain as a dreamer's words to them +His wail above Jerusalem, +And meaningless the watch He kept +Through which His weak disciples slept. + +Yet shrink not thou, whoe'er thou art, +For God's great purpose set apart, +Before whose far-discerning eyes, +The Future as the Present lies! +Beyond a narrow-bounded age +Stretches thy prophet-heritage, +Through Heaven's vast spaces angel-trod, +And through the eternal years of God +Thy audience, worlds!--all things to be +The witness of the Truth in thee! +1844. + + + +WHAT THE VOICE SAID + +MADDENED by Earth's wrong and evil, +"Lord!" I cried in sudden ire, +"From Thy right hand, clothed with thunder, +Shake the bolted fire! + +"Love is lost, and Faith is dying; +With the brute the man is sold; +And the dropping blood of labor +Hardens into gold. + +"Here the dying wail of Famine, +There the battle's groan of pain; +And, in silence, smooth-faced Mammon +Reaping men like grain. + +"'Where is God, that we should fear Him?' +Thus the earth-born Titans say +'God! if Thou art living, hear us!' +Thus the weak ones pray." + +"Thou, the patient Heaven upbraiding," +Spake a solemn Voice within; +"Weary of our Lord's forbearance, +Art thou free from sin? + +"Fearless brow to Him uplifting, +Canst thou for His thunders call, +Knowing that to guilt's attraction +Evermore they fall? + +"Know'st thou not all germs of evil +In thy heart await their time? +Not thyself, but God's restraining, +Stays their growth of crime. + +"Couldst thou boast, O child of weakness! +O'er the sons of wrong and strife, +Were their strong temptations planted +In thy path of life? + +"Thou hast seen two streamlets gushing +From one fountain, clear and free, +But by widely varying channels +Searching for the sea. + +"Glideth one through greenest valleys, +Kissing them with lips still sweet; +One, mad roaring down the mountains, +Stagnates at their feet. + +"Is it choice whereby the Parsee +Kneels before his mother's fire? +In his black tent did the Tartar +Choose his wandering sire? + +"He alone, whose hand is bounding +Human power and human will, +Looking through each soul's surrounding, +Knows its good or ill. + +"For thyself, while wrong and sorrow +Make to thee their strong appeal, +Coward wert thou not to utter +What the heart must feel. + +"Earnest words must needs be spoken +When the warm heart bleeds or burns +With its scorn of wrong, or pity +For the wronged, by turns. + +"But, by all thy nature's weakness, +Hidden faults and follies known, +Be thou, in rebuking evil, +Conscious of thine own. + +"Not the less shall stern-eyed Duty +To thy lips her trumpet set, +But with harsher blasts shall mingle +Wailings of regret." + +Cease not, Voice of holy speaking, +Teacher sent of God, be near, +Whispering through the day's cool silence, +Let my spirit hear! + +So, when thoughts of evil-doers +Waken scorn, or hatred move, +Shall a mournful fellow-feeling +Temper all with love. +1847. + + + +THE ANGEL OF PATIENCE. + +A FREE PARAPHRASE OF THE GERMAN. + +To weary hearts, to mourning homes, +God's meekest Angel gently comes +No power has he to banish pain, +Or give us back our lost again; +And yet in tenderest love, our dear +And Heavenly Father sends him here. + +There's quiet in that Angel's glance, +There 's rest in his still countenance! +He mocks no grief with idle cheer, +Nor wounds with words the mourner's ear; +But ills and woes he may not cure +He kindly trains us to endure. + +Angel of Patience! sent to calm +Our feverish brows with cooling palm; +To lay the storms of hope and fear, +And reconcile life's smile and tear; +The throbs of wounded pride to still, +And make our own our Father's will. + +O thou who mournest on thy way, +With longings for the close of day; +He walks with thee, that Angel kind, +And gently whispers, "Be resigned +Bear up, bear on, the end shall tell +The dear Lord ordereth all things well!" +1847. + + + +THE WIFE OF MANOAH TO HER HUSBAND. + +Against the sunset's glowing wall +The city towers rise black and tall, +Where Zorah, on its rocky height, +Stands like an armed man in the light. + +Down Eshtaol's vales of ripened grain +Falls like a cloud the night amain, +And up the hillsides climbing slow +The barley reapers homeward go. + +Look, dearest! how our fair child's head +The sunset light hath hallowed, +Where at this olive's foot he lies, +Uplooking to the tranquil skies. + +Oh, while beneath the fervent heat +Thy sickle swept the bearded wheat, +I've watched, with mingled joy and dread, +Our child upon his grassy bed. + +Joy, which the mother feels alone +Whose morning hope like mine had flown, +When to her bosom, over-blessed, +A dearer life than hers is pressed. + +Dread, for the future dark and still, +Which shapes our dear one to its will; +Forever in his large calm eyes, +I read a tale of sacrifice. + +The same foreboding awe I felt +When at the altar's side we knelt, +And he, who as a pilgrim came, +Rose, winged and glorious, through the flame. + +I slept not, though the wild bees made +A dreamlike murmuring in the shade, +And on me the warm-fingered hours +Pressed with the drowsy smell of flowers. + +Before me, in a vision, rose +The hosts of Israel's scornful foes,-- +Rank over rank, helm, shield, and spear, +Glittered in noon's hot atmosphere. + +I heard their boast, and bitter word, +Their mockery of the Hebrew's Lord, +I saw their hands His ark assail, +Their feet profane His holy veil. + +No angel down the blue space spoke, +No thunder from the still sky broke; +But in their midst, in power and awe, +Like God's waked wrath, our child I saw! + +A child no more!--harsh-browed and strong, +He towered a giant in the throng, +And down his shoulders, broad and bare, +Swept the black terror of his hair. + +He raised his arm--he smote amain; +As round the reaper falls the grain, +So the dark host around him fell, +So sank the foes of Israel! + +Again I looked. In sunlight shone +The towers and domes of Askelon; +Priest, warrior, slave, a mighty crowd +Within her idol temple bowed. + +Yet one knelt not; stark, gaunt, and blind, +His arms the massive pillars twined,-- +An eyeless captive, strong with hate, +He stood there like an evil Fate. + +The red shrines smoked,--the trumpets pealed +He stooped,--the giant columns reeled; +Reeled tower and fane, sank arch and wall, +And the thick dust-cloud closed o'er all! + +Above the shriek, the crash, the groan +Of the fallen pride of Askelon, +I heard, sheer down the echoing sky, +A voice as of an angel cry,-- + +The voice of him, who at our side +Sat through the golden eventide; +Of him who, on thy altar's blaze, +Rose fire-winged, with his song of praise. + +"Rejoice o'er Israel's broken chain, +Gray mother of the mighty slain! +Rejoice!" it cried, "he vanquisheth! +The strong in life is strong in death! + +"To him shall Zorah's daughters raise +Through coming years their hymns of praise, +And gray old men at evening tell +Of all be wrought for Israel. + +"And they who sing and they who hear +Alike shall hold thy memory dear, +And pour their blessings on thy head, +O mother of the mighty dead!" + +It ceased; and though a sound I heard +As if great wings the still air stirred, +I only saw the barley sheaves +And hills half hid by olive leaves. + +I bowed my face, in awe and fear, +On the dear child who slumbered near; +"With me, as with my only son, +O God," I said, "Thy will be done!" +1847. + + + +MY SOUL AND I + +Stand still, my soul, in the silent dark +I would question thee, +Alone in the shadow drear and stark +With God and me! + +What, my soul, was thy errand here? +Was it mirth or ease, +Or heaping up dust from year to year? +"Nay, none of these!" + +Speak, soul, aright in His holy sight +Whose eye looks still +And steadily on thee through the night +"To do His will!" + +What hast thou done, O soul of mine, +That thou tremblest so? +Hast thou wrought His task, and kept the line +He bade thee go? + +Aha! thou tremblest!--well I see +Thou 'rt craven grown. +Is it so hard with God and me +To stand alone? + +Summon thy sunshine bravery back, +O wretched sprite! +Let me hear thy voice through this deep and black +Abysmal night. + +What hast thou wrought for Right and Truth, +For God and Man, +From the golden hours of bright-eyed youth +To life's mid span? + +What, silent all! art sad of cheer? +Art fearful now? +When God seemed far and men were near, +How brave wert thou! + +Ah, soul of mine, thy tones I hear, +But weak and low, +Like far sad murmurs on my ear +They come and go. + +I have wrestled stoutly with the Wrong, +And borne the Right +From beneath the footfall of the throng +To life and light. + +"Wherever Freedom shivered a chain, +God speed, quoth I; +To Error amidst her shouting train +I gave the lie." + +Ah, soul of mine! ah, soul of mine! +Thy deeds are well: +Were they wrought for Truth's sake or for thine? +My soul, pray tell. + +"Of all the work my hand hath wrought +Beneath the sky, +Save a place in kindly human thought, +No gain have I." + +Go to, go to! for thy very self +Thy deeds were done +Thou for fame, the miser for pelf, +Your end is one! + +And where art thou going, soul of mine? +Canst see the end? +And whither this troubled life of thine +Evermore doth tend? + +What daunts thee now? what shakes thee so? +My sad soul say. +"I see a cloud like a curtain low +Hang o'er my way. + +"Whither I go I cannot tell +That cloud hangs black, +High as the heaven and deep as hell +Across my track. + +"I see its shadow coldly enwrap +The souls before. +Sadly they enter it, step by step, +To return no more. + +"They shrink, they shudder, dear God! they kneel +To Thee in prayer. +They shut their eyes on the cloud, but feel +That it still is there. + +"In vain they turn from the dread Before +To the Known and Gone; +For while gazing behind them evermore +Their feet glide on. + +"Yet, at times, I see upon sweet pale faces +A light begin +To tremble, as if from holy places +And shrines within. + +"And at times methinks their cold lips move +With hymn and prayer, +As if somewhat of awe, but more of love +And hope were there. + +"I call on the souls who have left the light +To reveal their lot; +I bend mine ear to that wall of night, +And they answer not. + +"But I hear around me sighs of pain +And the cry of fear, +And a sound like the slow sad dropping of rain, +Each drop a tear! + +"Ah, the cloud is dark, and day by day +I am moving thither +I must pass beneath it on my way-- +God pity me!--whither?" + +Ah, soul of mine! so brave and wise +In the life-storm loud, +Fronting so calmly all human eyes +In the sunlit crowd! + +Now standing apart with God and me +Thou art weakness all, +Gazing vainly after the things to be +Through Death's dread wall. + +But never for this, never for this +Was thy being lent; +For the craven's fear is but selfishness, +Like his merriment. + +Folly and Fear are sisters twain +One closing her eyes. +The other peopling the dark inane +With spectral lies. + +Know well, my soul, God's hand controls +Whate'er thou fearest; +Round Him in calmest music rolls +Whate'er thou Nearest. + +What to thee is shadow, to Him is day, +And the end He knoweth, +And not on a blind and aimless way +The spirit goeth. + +Man sees no future,--a phantom show +Is alone before him; +Past Time is dead, and the grasses grow, +And flowers bloom o'er him. + +Nothing before, nothing behind; +The steps of Faith +Fall on the seeming void, and find +The rock beneath. + +The Present, the Present is all thou hast +For thy sure possessing; +Like the patriarch's angel hold it fast +Till it gives its blessing. + +Why fear the night? why shrink from Death; +That phantom wan? +There is nothing in heaven or earth beneath +Save God and man. + +Peopling the shadows we turn from Him +And from one another; +All is spectral and vague and dim +Save God and our brother! + +Like warp and woof all destinies +Are woven fast, +Linked in sympathy like the keys +Of an organ vast. + +Pluck one thread, and the web ye mar; +Break but one +Of a thousand keys, and the paining jar +Through all will run. + +O restless spirit! wherefore strain +Beyond thy sphere? +Heaven and hell, with their joy and pain, +Are now and here. + +Back to thyself is measured well +All thou hast given; +Thy neighbor's wrong is thy present hell, +His bliss, thy heaven. + +And in life, in death, in dark and light, +All are in God's care +Sound the black abyss, pierce the deep of night, +And He is there! + +All which is real now remaineth, +And fadeth never +The hand which upholds it now sustaineth +The soul forever. + +Leaning on Him, make with reverent meekness +His own thy will, +And with strength from Him shall thy utter weakness +Life's task fulfil; + +And that cloud itself, which now before thee +Lies dark in view, +Shall with beams of light from the inner glory +Be stricken through. + +And like meadow mist through autumn's dawn +Uprolling thin, +Its thickest folds when about thee drawn +Let sunlight in. + +Then of what is to be, and of what is done, +Why queriest thou? +The past and the time to be are one, +And both are now! +1847. + + + +WORSHIP. + + "Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this. To + visit the fatherless and widows in, their affliction, and to keep + himself unspotted from the world."--JAMES I. 27. + +The Pagan's myths through marble lips are spoken, +And ghosts of old Beliefs still flit and moan +Round fane and altar overthrown and broken, +O'er tree-grown barrow and gray ring of stone. + +Blind Faith had martyrs in those old high places, +The Syrian hill grove and the Druid's wood, +With mother's offering, to the Fiend's embraces, +Bone of their bone, and blood of their own blood. + +Red altars, kindling through that night of error, +Smoked with warm blood beneath the cruel eye +Of lawless Power and sanguinary Terror, +Throned on the circle of a pitiless sky; + +Beneath whose baleful shadow, overcasting +All heaven above, and blighting earth below, +The scourge grew red, the lip grew pale with fasting, +And man's oblation was his fear and woe! + +Then through great temples swelled the dismal moaning +Of dirge-like music and sepulchral prayer; +Pale wizard priests, o'er occult symbols droning, +Swung their white censers in the burdened air + +As if the pomp of rituals, and the savor +Of gums and spices could the Unseen One please; +As if His ear could bend, with childish favor, +To the poor flattery of the organ keys! + +Feet red from war-fields trod the church aisles holy, +With trembling reverence: and the oppressor there, +Kneeling before his priest, abased and lowly, +Crushed human hearts beneath his knee of prayer. + +Not such the service the benignant Father +Requireth at His earthly children's hands +Not the poor offering of vain rites, but rather +The simple duty man from man demands. + +For Earth He asks it: the full joy of heaven +Knoweth no change of waning or increase; +The great heart of the Infinite beats even, +Untroubled flows the river of His peace. + +He asks no taper lights, on high surrounding +The priestly altar and the saintly grave, +No dolorous chant nor organ music sounding, +Nor incense clouding tip the twilight nave. + +For he whom Jesus loved hath truly spoken +The holier worship which he deigns to bless +Restores the lost, and binds the spirit broken, +And feeds the widow and the fatherless! + +Types of our human weakness and our sorrow! +Who lives unhaunted by his loved ones dead? +Who, with vain longing, seeketh not to borrow +From stranger eyes the home lights which have fled? + +O brother man! fold to thy heart thy brother; +Where pity dwells, the peace of God is there; +To worship rightly is to love each other, +Each smile a hymn, each kindly deed a prayer. + +Follow with reverent steps the great example +Of Him whose holy work was "doing good;" +So shall the wide earth seem our Father's temple, +Each loving life a psalm of gratitude. + +Then shall all shackles fall; the stormy clangor +Of wild war music o'er the earth shall cease; +Love shall tread out the baleful fire of anger, +And in its ashes plant the tree of peace! +1848. + + + +THE HOLY LAND + + Paraphrased from the lines in Lamartine's _Adieu to Marseilles_, + beginning + + "Je n'ai pas navigue sur l'ocean de sable." + +I have not felt, o'er seas of sand, +The rocking of the desert bark; +Nor laved at Hebron's fount my hand, +By Hebron's palm-trees cool and dark; +Nor pitched my tent at even-fall, +On dust where Job of old has lain, +Nor dreamed beneath its canvas wall, +The dream of Jacob o'er again. + +One vast world-page remains unread; +How shine the stars in Chaldea's sky, +How sounds the reverent pilgrim's tread, +How beats the heart with God so nigh +How round gray arch and column lone +The spirit of the old time broods, +And sighs in all the winds that moan +Along the sandy solitudes! + +In thy tall cedars, Lebanon, +I have not heard the nations' cries, +Nor seen thy eagles stooping down +Where buried Tyre in ruin lies. +The Christian's prayer I have not said +In Tadmor's temples of decay, +Nor startled, with my dreary tread, +The waste where Memnon's empire lay. + +Nor have I, from thy hallowed tide, +O Jordan! heard the low lament, +Like that sad wail along thy side +Which Israel's mournful prophet sent! +Nor thrilled within that grotto lone +Where, deep in night, the Bard of Kings +Felt hands of fire direct his own, +And sweep for God the conscious strings. + +I have not climbed to Olivet, +Nor laid me where my Saviour lay, +And left His trace of tears as yet +By angel eyes unwept away; +Nor watched, at midnight's solemn time, +The garden where His prayer and groan, +Wrung by His sorrow and our crime, +Rose to One listening ear alone. + +I have not kissed the rock-hewn grot +Where in His mother's arms He lay, +Nor knelt upon the sacred spot +Where last His footsteps pressed the clay; +Nor looked on that sad mountain head, +Nor smote my sinful breast, where wide +His arms to fold the world He spread, +And bowed His head to bless--and died! +1848. + + + +THE REWARD + +Who, looking backward from his manhood's prime, +Sees not the spectre of his misspent time? +And, through the shade +Of funeral cypress planted thick behind, +Hears no reproachful whisper on the wind +From his loved dead? + +Who bears no trace of passion's evil force? +Who shuns thy sting, O terrible Remorse? +Who does not cast +On the thronged pages of his memory's book, +At times, a sad and half-reluctant look, +Regretful of the past? + +Alas! the evil which we fain would shun +We do, and leave the wished-for good undone +Our strength to-day +Is but to-morrow's weakness, prone to fall; +Poor, blind, unprofitable servants all +Are we alway. + +Yet who, thus looking backward o'er his years, +Feels not his eyelids wet with grateful tears, +If he hath been +Permitted, weak and sinful as he was, +To cheer and aid, in some ennobling cause, +His fellow-men? + +If he hath hidden the outcast, or let in +A ray of sunshine to the cell of sin; +If he hath lent +Strength to the weak, and, in an hour of need, +Over the suffering, mindless of his creed +Or home, hath bent; + +He has not lived in vain, and while he gives +The praise to Him, in whom he moves and lives, +With thankful heart; +He gazes backward, and with hope before, +Knowing that from his works he nevermore +Can henceforth part. +1848. + + + +THE WISH OF TO-DAY. + +I ask not now for gold to gild +With mocking shine a weary frame; +The yearning of the mind is stilled, +I ask not now for Fame. + +A rose-cloud, dimly seen above, +Melting in heaven's blue depths away; +Oh, sweet, fond dream of human Love +For thee I may not pray. + +But, bowed in lowliness of mind, +I make my humble wishes known; +I only ask a will resigned, +O Father, to Thine own! + +To-day, beneath Thy chastening eye +I crave alone for peace and rest, +Submissive in Thy hand to lie, +And feel that it is best. + +A marvel seems the Universe, +A miracle our Life and Death; +A mystery which I cannot pierce, +Around, above, beneath. + +In vain I task my aching brain, +In vain the sage's thought I scan, +I only feel how weak and vain, +How poor and blind, is man. + +And now my spirit sighs for home, +And longs for light whereby to see, +And, like a weary child, would come, +O Father, unto Thee! + +Though oft, like letters traced on sand, +My weak resolves have passed away, +In mercy lend Thy helping hand +Unto my prayer to-day! +1848. + + + +ALL'S WELL + +The clouds, which rise with thunder, slake +Our thirsty souls with rain; +The blow most dreaded falls to break +From off our limbs a chain; +And wrongs of man to man but make +The love of God more plain. +As through the shadowy lens of even +The eye looks farthest into heaven +On gleams of star and depths of blue +The glaring sunshine never knew! +1850. + + + +INVOCATION + +Through Thy clear spaces, Lord, of old, +Formless and void the dead earth rolled; +Deaf to Thy heaven's sweet music, blind +To the great lights which o'er it shined; +No sound, no ray, no warmth, no breath,-- +A dumb despair, a wandering death. + +To that dark, weltering horror came +Thy spirit, like a subtle flame,-- +A breath of life electrical, +Awakening and transforming all, +Till beat and thrilled in every part +The pulses of a living heart. + +Then knew their bounds the land and sea; +Then smiled the bloom of mead and tree; +From flower to moth, from beast to man, +The quick creative impulse ran; +And earth, with life from thee renewed, +Was in thy holy eyesight good. + +As lost and void, as dark and cold +And formless as that earth of old; +A wandering waste of storm and night, +Midst spheres of song and realms of light; +A blot upon thy holy sky, +Untouched, unwarned of thee, am I. + +O Thou who movest on the deep +Of spirits, wake my own from sleep +Its darkness melt, its coldness warm, +The lost restore, the ill transform, +That flower and fruit henceforth may be +Its grateful offering, worthy Thee. +1851. + + + +QUESTIONS OF LIFE + + And the angel that was sent unto me, whose name was Uriel, + gave me an answer and said, + "Thy heart hath gone too far in this world, and thinkest thou + to comprehend the way of the Most High?" + Then said I, "Yea, my Lord." + Then said he unto me, "Go thy way, weigh me the weight of + the fire or measure me the blast of the wind, or call me again the + day that is past."--2 ESDRAS, chap. iv. + +A bending staff I would not break, +A feeble faith I would not shake, +Nor even rashly pluck away +The error which some truth may stay, +Whose loss might leave the soul without +A shield against the shafts of doubt. + +And yet, at times, when over all +A darker mystery seems to fall, +(May God forgive the child of dust, +Who seeks to know, where Faith should trust!) +I raise the questions, old and dark, +Of Uzdom's tempted patriarch, +And, speech-confounded, build again +The baffled tower of Shinar's plain. + +I am: how little more I know! +Whence came I? Whither do I go? +A centred self, which feels and is; +A cry between the silences; +A shadow-birth of clouds at strife +With sunshine on the hills of life; +A shaft from Nature's quiver cast +Into the Future from the Past; +Between the cradle and the shroud, +A meteor's flight from cloud to cloud. + +Thorough the vastness, arching all, +I see the great stars rise and fall, +The rounding seasons come and go, +The tided oceans ebb and flow; +The tokens of a central force, +Whose circles, in their widening course, +O'erlap and move the universe; +The workings of the law whence springs +The rhythmic harmony of things, +Which shapes in earth the darkling spar, +And orbs in heaven the morning star. +Of all I see, in earth and sky,-- +Star, flower, beast, bird,--what part have I? +This conscious life,--is it the same +Which thrills the universal frame, +Whereby the caverned crystal shoots, +And mounts the sap from forest roots, +Whereby the exiled wood-bird tells +When Spring makes green her native dells? +How feels the stone the pang of birth, +Which brings its sparkling prism forth? +The forest-tree the throb which gives +The life-blood to its new-born leaves? +Do bird and blossom feel, like me, +Life's many-folded mystery,-- +The wonder which it is to be? +Or stand I severed and distinct, +From Nature's "chain of life" unlinked? +Allied to all, yet not the less +Prisoned in separate consciousness, +Alone o'erburdened with a sense +Of life, and cause, and consequence? + +In vain to me the Sphinx propounds +The riddle of her sights and sounds; +Back still the vaulted mystery gives +The echoed question it receives. +What sings the brook? What oracle +Is in the pine-tree's organ swell? +What may the wind's low burden be? +The meaning of the moaning sea? +The hieroglyphics of the stars? +Or clouded sunset's crimson bars? +I vainly ask, for mocks my skill +The trick of Nature's cipher still. + +I turn from Nature unto men, +I ask the stylus and the pen; +What sang the bards of old? What meant +The prophets of the Orient? +The rolls of buried Egypt, hid +In painted tomb and pyramid? +What mean Idumea's arrowy lines, +Or dusk Elora's monstrous signs? +How speaks the primal thought of man +From the grim carvings of Copan? + +Where rests the secret? Where the keys +Of the old death-bolted mysteries? +Alas! the dead retain their trust; +Dust hath no answer from the dust. + +The great enigma still unguessed, +Unanswered the eternal quest; +I gather up the scattered rays +Of wisdom in the early days, +Faint gleams and broken, like the light +Of meteors in a northern night, +Betraying to the darkling earth +The unseen sun which gave them birth; +I listen to the sibyl's chant, +The voice of priest and hierophant; +I know what Indian Kreeshna saith, +And what of life and what of death +The demon taught to Socrates; +And what, beneath his garden-trees +Slow pacing, with a dream-like tread,-- +The solemn-thoughted Plato said; +Nor lack I tokens, great or small, +Of God's clear light in each and all, +While holding with more dear regard +The scroll of Hebrew seer and bard, +The starry pages promise-lit +With Christ's Evangel over-writ, +Thy miracle of life and death, +O Holy One of Nazareth! + +On Aztec ruins, gray and lone, +The circling serpent coils in stone,-- +Type of the endless and unknown; +Whereof we seek the clue to find, +With groping fingers of the blind! +Forever sought, and never found, +We trace that serpent-symbol round +Our resting-place, our starting bound +Oh, thriftlessness of dream and guess! +Oh, wisdom which is foolishness! +Why idly seek from outward things +The answer inward silence brings? +Why stretch beyond our proper sphere +And age, for that which lies so near? +Why climb the far-off hills with pain, +A nearer view of heaven to gain? +In lowliest depths of bosky dells +The hermit Contemplation dwells. +A fountain's pine-hung slope his seat, +And lotus-twined his silent feet, +Whence, piercing heaven, with screened sight, +He sees at noon the stars, whose light +Shall glorify the coining night. + +Here let me pause, my quest forego; +Enough for me to feel and know +That He in whom the cause and end, +The past and future, meet and blend,-- +Who, girt with his Immensities, +Our vast and star-hung system sees, +Small as the clustered Pleiades,-- +Moves not alone the heavenly quires, +But waves the spring-time's grassy spires, +Guards not archangel feet alone, +But deigns to guide and keep my own; +Speaks not alone the words of fate +Which worlds destroy, and worlds create, +But whispers in my spirit's ear, +In tones of love, or warning fear, +A language none beside may hear. + +To Him, from wanderings long and wild, +I come, an over-wearied child, +In cool and shade His peace to find, +Lice dew-fall settling on my mind. +Assured that all I know is best, +And humbly trusting for the rest, +I turn from Fancy's cloud-built scheme, +Dark creed, and mournful eastern dream +Of power, impersonal and cold, +Controlling all, itself controlled, +Maker and slave of iron laws, +Alike the subject and the cause; +From vain philosophies, that try +The sevenfold gates of mystery, +And, baffled ever, babble still, +Word-prodigal of fate and will; +From Nature, and her mockery, Art; +And book and speech of men apart, +To the still witness in my heart; +With reverence waiting to behold +His Avatar of love untold, +The Eternal Beauty new and old! +1862. + + + +FIRST-DAY THOUGHTS. + +In calm and cool and silence, once again +I find my old accustomed place among +My brethren, where, perchance, no human tongue +Shall utter words; where never hymn is sung, +Nor deep-toned organ blown, nor censer swung, +Nor dim light falling through the pictured pane! +There, syllabled by silence, let me hear +The still small voice which reached the prophet's ear; +Read in my heart a still diviner law +Than Israel's leader on his tables saw! +There let me strive with each besetting sin, +Recall my wandering fancies, and restrain +The sore disquiet of a restless brain; +And, as the path of duty is made plain, +May grace be given that I may walk therein, +Not like the hireling, for his selfish gain, +With backward glances and reluctant tread, +Making a merit of his coward dread, +But, cheerful, in the light around me thrown, +Walking as one to pleasant service led; +Doing God's will as if it were my own, +Yet trusting not in mine, but in His strength alone! +1852. + + + +TRUST. + +The same old baffling questions! O my friend, +I cannot answer them. In vain I send +My soul into the dark, where never burn +The lamps of science, nor the natural light +Of Reason's sun and stars! I cannot learn +Their great and solemn meanings, nor discern +The awful secrets of the eyes which turn +Evermore on us through the day and night +With silent challenge and a dumb demand, +Proffering the riddles of the dread unknown, +Like the calm Sphinxes, with their eyes of stone, +Questioning the centuries from their veils of sand! +I have no answer for myself or thee, +Save that I learned beside my mother's knee; +"All is of God that is, and is to be; +And God is good." Let this suffice us still, +Resting in childlike trust upon His will +Who moves to His great ends unthwarted by the ill. +1853. + + + +TRINITAS. + +At morn I prayed, "I fain would see +How Three are One, and One is Three; +Read the dark riddle unto me." + +I wandered forth, the sun and air +I saw bestowed with equal care +On good and evil, foul and fair. + +No partial favor dropped the rain; +Alike the righteous and profane +Rejoiced above their heading grain. + +And my heart murmured, "Is it meet +That blindfold Nature thus should treat +With equal hand the tares and wheat?" + +A presence melted through my mood,-- +A warmth, a light, a sense of good, +Like sunshine through a winter wood. + +I saw that presence, mailed complete +In her white innocence, pause to greet +A fallen sister of the street. + +Upon her bosom snowy pure +The lost one clung, as if secure +From inward guilt or outward lure. + +"Beware!" I said; "in this I see +No gain to her, but loss to thee +Who touches pitch defiled must be." + +I passed the haunts of shame and sin, +And a voice whispered, "Who therein +Shall these lost souls to Heaven's peace win? + +"Who there shall hope and health dispense, +And lift the ladder up from thence +Whose rounds are prayers of penitence?" + +I said, "No higher life they know; +These earth-worms love to have it so. +Who stoops to raise them sinks as low." + +That night with painful care I read +What Hippo's saint and Calvin said; +The living seeking to the dead! + +In vain I turned, in weary quest, +Old pages, where (God give them rest!) +The poor creed-mongers dreamed and guessed. + +And still I prayed, "Lord, let me see +How Three are One, and One is Three; +Read the dark riddle unto me!" + +Then something whispered, "Dost thou pray +For what thou hast? This very day +The Holy Three have crossed thy way. + +"Did not the gifts of sun and air +To good and ill alike declare +The all-compassionate Father's care? + +"In the white soul that stooped to raise +The lost one from her evil ways, +Thou saw'st the Christ, whom angels praise! + +"A bodiless Divinity, +The still small Voice that spake to thee +Was the Holy Spirit's mystery! + +"O blind of sight, of faith how small! +Father, and Son, and Holy Call +This day thou hast denied them all! + +"Revealed in love and sacrifice, +The Holiest passed before thine eyes, +One and the same, in threefold guise. + +"The equal Father in rain and sun, +His Christ in the good to evil done, +His Voice in thy soul;--and the Three are One!" + +I shut my grave Aquinas fast; +The monkish gloss of ages past, +The schoolman's creed aside I cast. + +And my heart answered, "Lord, I see +How Three are One, and One is Three; +Thy riddle hath been read to me!" +1858. + + + +THE SISTERS + +A PICTURE BY BARRY + +The shade for me, but over thee +The lingering sunshine still; +As, smiling, to the silent stream +Comes down the singing rill. + +So come to me, my little one,-- +My years with thee I share, +And mingle with a sister's love +A mother's tender care. + +But keep the smile upon thy lip, +The trust upon thy brow; +Since for the dear one God hath called +We have an angel now. + +Our mother from the fields of heaven +Shall still her ear incline; +Nor need we fear her human love +Is less for love divine. + +The songs are sweet they sing beneath +The trees of life so fair, +But sweetest of the songs of heaven +Shall be her children's prayer. + +Then, darling, rest upon my breast, +And teach my heart to lean +With thy sweet trust upon the arm +Which folds us both unseen! +1858 + + + +"THE ROCK" IN EL GHOR. + +Dead Petra in her hill-tomb sleeps, +Her stones of emptiness remain; +Around her sculptured mystery sweeps +The lonely waste of Edom's plain. + +From the doomed dwellers in the cleft +The bow of vengeance turns not back; +Of all her myriads none are left +Along the Wady Mousa's track. + +Clear in the hot Arabian day +Her arches spring, her statues climb; +Unchanged, the graven wonders pay +No tribute to the spoiler, Time! + +Unchanged the awful lithograph +Of power and glory undertrod; +Of nations scattered like the chaff +Blown from the threshing-floor of God. + +Yet shall the thoughtful stranger turn +From Petra's gates with deeper awe, +To mark afar the burial urn +Of Aaron on the cliffs of Hor; + +And where upon its ancient guard +Thy Rock, El Ghor, is standing yet,-- +Looks from its turrets desertward, +And keeps the watch that God has set. + +The same as when in thunders loud +It heard the voice of God to man, +As when it saw in fire and cloud +The angels walk in Israel's van, + +Or when from Ezion-Geber's way +It saw the long procession file, +And heard the Hebrew timbrels play +The music of the lordly Nile; + +Or saw the tabernacle pause, +Cloud-bound, by Kadesh Barnea's wells, +While Moses graved the sacred laws, +And Aaron swung his golden bells. + +Rock of the desert, prophet-sung! +How grew its shadowing pile at length, +A symbol, in the Hebrew tongue, +Of God's eternal love and strength. + +On lip of bard and scroll of seer, +From age to age went down the name, +Until the Shiloh's promised year, +And Christ, the Rock of Ages, came! + +The path of life we walk to-day +Is strange as that the Hebrews trod; +We need the shadowing rock, as they,-- +We need, like them, the guides of God. + +God send His angels, Cloud and Fire, +To lead us o'er the desert sand! +God give our hearts their long desire, +His shadow in a weary land! +1859. + + + +THE OVER-HEART. + + "For of Him, and through Him, and to Him are all things, + to whom be glory forever! "--PAUL. + +Above, below, in sky and sod, +In leaf and spar, in star and man, +Well might the wise Athenian scan +The geometric signs of God, +The measured order of His plan. + +And India's mystics sang aright +Of the One Life pervading all,-- +One Being's tidal rise and fall +In soul and form, in sound and sight,-- +Eternal outflow and recall. + +God is: and man in guilt and fear +The central fact of Nature owns; +Kneels, trembling, by his altar-stones, +And darkly dreams the ghastly smear +Of blood appeases and atones. + +Guilt shapes the Terror: deep within +The human heart the secret lies +Of all the hideous deities; +And, painted on a ground of sin, +The fabled gods of torment rise! + +And what is He? The ripe grain nods, +The sweet dews fall, the sweet flowers blow; +But darker signs His presence show +The earthquake and the storm are God's, +And good and evil interflow. + +O hearts of love! O souls that turn +Like sunflowers to the pure and best! +To you the truth is manifest: +For they the mind of Christ discern +Who lean like John upon His breast! + +In him of whom the sibyl told, +For whom the prophet's harp was toned, +Whose need the sage and magian owned, +The loving heart of God behold, +The hope for which the ages groaned! + +Fade, pomp of dreadful imagery +Wherewith mankind have deified +Their hate, and selfishness, and pride! +Let the scared dreamer wake to see +The Christ of Nazareth at his side! + +What doth that holy Guide require? +No rite of pain, nor gift of blood, +But man a kindly brotherhood, +Looking, where duty is desire, +To Him, the beautiful and good. + +Gone be the faithlessness of fear, +And let the pitying heaven's sweet rain +Wash out the altar's bloody stain; +The law of Hatred disappear, +The law of Love alone remain. + +How fall the idols false and grim! +And to! their hideous wreck above +The emblems of the Lamb and Dove! +Man turns from God, not God from him; +And guilt, in suffering, whispers Love! + +The world sits at the feet of Christ, +Unknowing, blind, and unconsoled; +It yet shall touch His garment's fold, +And feel the heavenly Alchemist +Transform its very dust to gold. + +The theme befitting angel tongues +Beyond a mortal's scope has grown. +O heart of mine! with reverence own +The fulness which to it belongs, +And trust the unknown for the known. +1859. + + + +THE SHADOW AND THE LIGHT. + + "And I sought, whence is Evil: I set before the eye of my spirit + the whole creation; whatsoever we see therein,--sea, earth, air, + stars, trees, moral creatures,--yea, whatsoever there is we do not + see,--angels and spiritual powers. Where is evil, and whence comes + it, since God the Good hath created all things? Why made He + anything at all of evil, and not rather by His Almightiness cause + it not to be? These thoughts I turned in my miserable heart, + overcharged with most gnawing cares." "And, admonished to return to + myself, I entered even into my inmost soul, Thou being my guide, + and beheld even beyond my soul and mind the Light unchangeable. He + who knows the Truth knows what that Light is, and he that knows it + knows Eternity! O--Truth, who art Eternity! Love, who art Truth! + Eternity, who art Love! And I beheld that Thou madest all things + good, and to Thee is nothing whatsoever evil. From the angel to the + worm, from the first motion to the last, Thou settest each in its + place, and everything is good in its kind. Woe is me!--how high art + Thou in the highest, how deep in the deepest! and Thou never + departest from us and we scarcely return to Thee." + --AUGUSTINE'S Soliloquies, Book VII. + +The fourteen centuries fall away +Between us and the Afric saint, +And at his side we urge, to-day, +The immemorial quest and old complaint. + +No outward sign to us is given,-- +From sea or earth comes no reply; +Hushed as the warm Numidian heaven +He vainly questioned bends our frozen sky. + +No victory comes of all our strife,-- +From all we grasp the meaning slips; +The Sphinx sits at the gate of life, +With the old question on her awful lips. + +In paths unknown we hear the feet +Of fear before, and guilt behind; +We pluck the wayside fruit, and eat +Ashes and dust beneath its golden rind. + +From age to age descends unchecked +The sad bequest of sire to son, +The body's taint, the mind's defect; +Through every web of life the dark threads run. + +Oh, why and whither? God knows all; +I only know that He is good, +And that whatever may befall +Or here or there, must be the best that could. + +Between the dreadful cherubim +A Father's face I still discern, +As Moses looked of old on Him, +And saw His glory into goodness turn! + +For He is merciful as just; +And so, by faith correcting sight, +I bow before His will, and trust +Howe'er they seem He doeth all things right. + +And dare to hope that Tie will make +The rugged smooth, the doubtful plain; +His mercy never quite forsake; +His healing visit every realm of pain; + +That suffering is not His revenge +Upon His creatures weak and frail, +Sent on a pathway new and strange +With feet that wander and with eyes that fail; + +That, o'er the crucible of pain, +Watches the tender eye of Love +The slow transmuting of the chain +Whose links are iron below to gold above! + +Ah me! we doubt the shining skies, +Seen through our shadows of offence, +And drown with our poor childish cries +The cradle-hymn of kindly Providence. + +And still we love the evil cause, +And of the just effect complain +We tread upon life's broken laws, +And murmur at our self-inflicted pain; + +We turn us from the light, and find +Our spectral shapes before us thrown, +As they who leave the sun behind +Walk in the shadows of themselves alone. + +And scarce by will or strength of ours +We set our faces to the day; +Weak, wavering, blind, the Eternal Powers +Alone can turn us from ourselves away. + +Our weakness is the strength of sin, +But love must needs be stronger far, +Outreaching all and gathering in +The erring spirit and the wandering star. + +A Voice grows with the growing years; +Earth, hushing down her bitter cry, +Looks upward from her graves, and hears, +"The Resurrection and the Life am I." + +O Love Divine!--whose constant beam +Shines on the eyes that will not see, +And waits to bless us, while we dream +Thou leavest us because we turn from thee! + +All souls that struggle and aspire, +All hearts of prayer by thee are lit; +And, dim or clear, thy tongues of fire +On dusky tribes and twilight centuries sit. + +Nor bounds, nor clime, nor creed thou know'st, +Wide as our need thy favors fall; +The white wings of the Holy Ghost +Stoop, seen or unseen, o'er the heads of all. + +O Beauty, old yet ever new! +Eternal Voice, and Inward Word, +The Logos of the Greek and Jew, +The old sphere-music which the Samian heard! + +Truth, which the sage and prophet saw, +Long sought without, but found within, +The Law of Love beyond all law, +The Life o'erflooding mortal death and sin! + +Shine on us with the light which glowed +Upon the trance-bound shepherd's way. +Who saw the Darkness overflowed +And drowned by tides of everlasting Day. + +Shine, light of God!--make broad thy scope +To all who sin and suffer; more +And better than we dare to hope +With Heaven's compassion make our longings poor! +1860. + + + +THE CRY OF A LOST SOUL. + + Lieutenant Herndon's Report of the Exploration of the Amazon has a + striking description of the peculiar and melancholy notes of a + bird heard by night on the shores of the river. The Indian guides + called it "The Cry of a Lost Soul"! Among the numerous translations + of this poem is one by the Emperor of Brazil. + +In that black forest, where, when day is done, +With a snake's stillness glides the Amazon +Darkly from sunset to the rising sun, + +A cry, as of the pained heart of the wood, +The long, despairing moan of solitude +And darkness and the absence of all good, + +Startles the traveller, with a sound so drear, +So full of hopeless agony and fear, +His heart stands still and listens like his ear. + +The guide, as if he heard a dead-bell toll, +Starts, drops his oar against the gunwale's thole, +Crosses himself, and whispers, "A lost soul!" + +"No, Senor, not a bird. I know it well,-- +It is the pained soul of some infidel +Or cursed heretic that cries from hell. + +"Poor fool! with hope still mocking his despair, +He wanders, shrieking on the midnight air +For human pity and for Christian prayer. + +"Saints strike him dumb! Our Holy Mother hath +No prayer for him who, sinning unto death, +Burns always in the furnace of God's wrath!" + +Thus to the baptized pagan's cruel lie, +Lending new horror to that mournful cry, +The voyager listens, making no reply. + +Dim burns the boat-lamp: shadows deepen round, +From giant trees with snake-like creepers wound, +And the black water glides without a sound. + +But in the traveller's heart a secret sense +Of nature plastic to benign intents, +And an eternal good in Providence, + +Lifts to the starry calm of heaven his eyes; +And to! rebuking all earth's ominous cries, +The Cross of pardon lights the tropic skies! + +"Father of all!" he urges his strong plea, +"Thou lovest all: Thy erring child may be +Lost to himself, but never lost to Thee! + +"All souls are Thine; the wings of morning bear +None from that Presence which is everywhere, +Nor hell itself can hide, for Thou art there. + +"Through sins of sense, perversities of will, +Through doubt and pain, through guilt and shame and ill, +Thy pitying eye is on Thy creature still. + +"Wilt thou not make, Eternal Source and Goal! +In Thy long years, life's broken circle whole, +And change to praise the cry of a lost soul?" +1862. + + + +ANDREW RYKMAN'S PRAYER + +Andrew Rykman's dead and gone; +You can see his leaning slate +In the graveyard, and thereon +Read his name and date. + +"_Trust is truer than our fears_," +Runs the legend through the moss, +"_Gain is not in added years, +Nor in death is loss_." + +Still the feet that thither trod, +All the friendly eyes are dim; +Only Nature, now, and God +Have a care for him. + +There the dews of quiet fall, +Singing birds and soft winds stray: +Shall the tender Heart of all +Be less kind than they? + +What he was and what he is +They who ask may haply find, +If they read this prayer of his +Which he left behind. + + + . . . . + +Pardon, Lord, the lips that dare +Shape in words a mortal's prayer! +Prayer, that, when my day is done, +And I see its setting sun, +Shorn and beamless, cold and dim, +Sink beneath the horizon's rim,-- +When this ball of rock and clay +Crumbles from my feet away, +And the solid shores of sense +Melt into the vague immense, +Father! I may come to Thee +Even with the beggar's plea, +As the poorest of Thy poor, +With my needs, and nothing more. + +Not as one who seeks his home +With a step assured I come; +Still behind the tread I hear +Of my life-companion, Fear; +Still a shadow deep and vast +From my westering feet is cast, +Wavering, doubtful, undefined, +Never shapen nor outlined +From myself the fear has grown, +And the shadow is my own. + +Yet, O Lord, through all a sense +Of Thy tender providence +Stays my failing heart on Thee, +And confirms the feeble knee; +And, at times, my worn feet press +Spaces of cool quietness, +Lilied whiteness shone upon +Not by light of moon or sun. +Hours there be of inmost calm, +Broken but by grateful psalm, +When I love Thee more than fear Thee, +And Thy blessed Christ seems near me, +With forgiving look, as when +He beheld the Magdalen. +Well I know that all things move +To the spheral rhythm of love,-- +That to Thee, O Lord of all! +Nothing can of chance befall +Child and seraph, mote and star, +Well Thou knowest what we are +Through Thy vast creative plan +Looking, from the worm to man, +There is pity in Thine eyes, +But no hatred nor surprise. +Not in blind caprice of will, +Not in cunning sleight of skill, +Not for show of power, was wrought +Nature's marvel in Thy thought. +Never careless hand and vain +Smites these chords of joy and pain; +No immortal selfishness +Plays the game of curse and bless +Heaven and earth are witnesses +That Thy glory goodness is. + +Not for sport of mind and force +Hast Thou made Thy universe, +But as atmosphere and zone +Of Thy loving heart alone. +Man, who walketh in a show, +Sees before him, to and fro, +Shadow and illusion go; +All things flow and fluctuate, +Now contract and now dilate. +In the welter of this sea, +Nothing stable is but Thee; +In this whirl of swooning trance, +Thou alone art permanence; +All without Thee only seems, +All beside is choice of dreams. +Never yet in darkest mood +Doubted I that Thou wast good, +Nor mistook my will for fate, +Pain of sin for heavenly hate,-- +Never dreamed the gates of pearl +Rise from out the burning marl, +Or that good can only live +Of the bad conservative, +And through counterpoise of hell +Heaven alone be possible. + +For myself alone I doubt; +All is well, I know, without; +I alone the beauty mar, +I alone the music jar. +Yet, with hands by evil stained, +And an ear by discord pained, +I am groping for the keys +Of the heavenly harmonies; +Still within my heart I bear +Love for all things good and fair. +Hands of want or souls in pain +Have not sought my door in vain; +I have kept my fealty good +To the human brotherhood; +Scarcely have I asked in prayer +That which others might not share. +I, who hear with secret shame +Praise that paineth more than blame, +Rich alone in favors lent, +Virtuous by accident, +Doubtful where I fain would rest, +Frailest where I seem the best, +Only strong for lack of test,-- +What am I, that I should press +Special pleas of selfishness, +Coolly mounting into heaven +On my neighbor unforgiven? +Ne'er to me, howe'er disguised, +Comes a saint unrecognized; +Never fails my heart to greet +Noble deed with warmer beat; +Halt and maimed, I own not less +All the grace of holiness; +Nor, through shame or self-distrust, +Less I love the pure and just. +Lord, forgive these words of mine +What have I that is not Thine? +Whatsoe'er I fain would boast +Needs Thy pitying pardon most. +Thou, O Elder Brother! who +In Thy flesh our trial knew, +Thou, who hast been touched by these +Our most sad infirmities, +Thou alone the gulf canst span +In the dual heart of man, +And between the soul and sense +Reconcile all difference, +Change the dream of me and mine +For the truth of Thee and Thine, +And, through chaos, doubt, and strife, +Interfuse Thy calm of life. +Haply, thus by Thee renewed, +In Thy borrowed goodness good, +Some sweet morning yet in God's +Dim, veonian periods, +Joyful I shall wake to see +Those I love who rest in Thee, +And to them in Thee allied +Shall my soul be satisfied. + +Scarcely Hope hath shaped for me +What the future life may be. +Other lips may well be bold; +Like the publican of old, +I can only urge the plea, +"Lord, be merciful to me!" +Nothing of desert I claim, +Unto me belongeth shame. +Not for me the, crowns of gold, +Palms, and harpings manifold; +Not for erring eye and feet +Jasper wall and golden street. +What thou wilt, O Father, give I +All is gain that I receive. + +If my voice I may not raise +In the elders' song of praise, +If I may not, sin-defiled, +Claim my birthright as a child, +Suffer it that I to Thee +As an hired servant be; +Let the lowliest task be mine, +Grateful, so the work be Thine; +Let me find the humblest place +In the shadow of Thy grace +Blest to me were any spot +Where temptation whispers not. +If there be some weaker one, +Give me strength to help him on +If a blinder soul there be, +Let me guide him nearer Thee. +Make my mortal dreams come true +With the work I fain would do; +Clothe with life the weak intent, +Let me be the thing I meant; +Let me find in Thy employ +Peace that dearer is than joy; +Out of self to love be led +And to heaven acclimated, +Until all things sweet and good +Seem my natural habitude. + + . . . . + +So we read the prayer of him +Who, with John of Labadie, +Trod, of old, the oozy rim +Of the Zuyder Zee. + +Thus did Andrew Rykman pray. +Are we wiser, better grown, +That we may not, in our day, +Make his prayer our own? 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