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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/9573.txt b/9573.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..beb292d --- /dev/null +++ b/9573.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3144 @@ +Project Gutenberg EBook, Religious Poems, Part 2., by Whittier +Volume II., The Works of Whittier: Poems of Nature, Poems Subjective +and Reminiscent, Religious Poems +#18 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 2., 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 #9573] +[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 II. *** + + + + +This eBook was produced by David Widger + + + + + + POEMS OF NATURE + + POEMS SUBJECTIVE AND REMINISCENT + + RELIGIOUS POEMS + + BY + JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER + + + +CONTENTS: + + 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 + + + + + +THE ANSWER. + +Spare me, dread angel of reproof, +And let the sunshine weave to-day +Its gold-threads in the warp and woof +Of life so poor and gray. + +Spare me awhile; the flesh is weak. +These lingering feet, that fain would stray +Among the flowers, shall some day seek +The strait and narrow way. + +Take off thy ever-watchful eye, +The awe of thy rebuking frown; +The dullest slave at times must sigh +To fling his burdens down; + +To drop his galley's straining oar, +And press, in summer warmth and calm, +The lap of some enchanted shore +Of blossom and of balm. + +Grudge not my life its hour of bloom, +My heart its taste of long desire; +This day be mine: be those to come +As duty shall require. + +The deep voice answered to my own, +Smiting my selfish prayers away; +"To-morrow is with God alone, +And man hath but to-day. + +"Say not, thy fond, vain heart within, +The Father's arm shall still be wide, +When from these pleasant ways of sin +Thou turn'st at eventide. + +"'Cast thyself down,' the tempter saith, +'And angels shall thy feet upbear.' +He bids thee make a lie of faith, +And blasphemy of prayer. + +"Though God be good and free be heaven, +No force divine can love compel; +And, though the song of sins forgiven +May sound through lowest hell, + +"The sweet persuasion of His voice +Respects thy sanctity of will. +He giveth day: thou hast thy choice +To walk in darkness still; + +"As one who, turning from the light, +Watches his own gray shadow fall, +Doubting, upon his path of night, +If there be day at all! + +"No word of doom may shut thee out, +No wind of wrath may downward whirl, +No swords of fire keep watch about +The open gates of pearl; + +"A tenderer light than moon or sun, +Than song of earth a sweeter hymn, +May shine and sound forever on, +And thou be deaf and dim. + +"Forever round the Mercy-seat +The guiding lights of Love shall burn; +But what if, habit-bound, thy feet +Shall lack the will to turn? + +"What if thine eye refuse to see, +Thine ear of Heaven's free welcome fail, +And thou a willing captive be, +Thyself thy own dark jail? + +"Oh, doom beyond the saddest guess, +As the long years of God unroll, +To make thy dreary selfishness +The prison of a soul! + +"To doubt the love that fain would break +The fetters from thy self-bound limb; +And dream that God can thee forsake +As thou forsakest Him!" +1863. + + + +THE ETERNAL GOODNESS. + +O friends! with whom my feet have trod +The quiet aisles of prayer, +Glad witness to your zeal for God +And love of man I bear. + +I trace your lines of argument; +Your logic linked and strong +I weigh as one who dreads dissent, +And fears a doubt as wrong. + +But still my human hands are weak +To hold your iron creeds +Against the words ye bid me speak +My heart within me pleads. + +Who fathoms the Eternal Thought? +Who talks of scheme and plan? +The Lord is God! He needeth not +The poor device of man. + +I walk with bare, hushed feet the ground +Ye tread with boldness shod; +I dare not fix with mete and bound +The love and power of God. + +Ye praise His justice; even such +His pitying love I deem +Ye seek a king; I fain would touch +The robe that hath no seam. + +Ye see the curse which overbroods +A world of pain and loss; +I hear our Lord's beatitudes +And prayer upon the cross. + +More than your schoolmen teach, within +Myself, alas! I know +Too dark ye cannot paint the sin, +Too small the merit show. + +I bow my forehead to the dust, +I veil mine eyes for shame, +And urge, in trembling self-distrust, +A prayer without a claim. + +I see the wrong that round me lies, +I feel the guilt within; +I hear, with groan and travail-cries, +The world confess its sin. + +Yet, in the maddening maze of things, +And tossed by storm and flood, +To one fixed trust my spirit clings; +I know that God is good! + +Not mine to look where cherubim +And seraphs may not see, +But nothing can be good in Him +Which evil is in me. + +The wrong that pains my soul below +I dare not throne above, +I know not of His hate,--I know +His goodness and His love. + +I dimly guess from blessings known +Of greater out of sight, +And, with the chastened Psalmist, own +His judgments too are right. + +I long for household voices gone, +For vanished smiles I long, +But God hath led my dear ones on, +And He can do no wrong. + +I know not what the future hath +Of marvel or surprise, +Assured alone that life and death +His mercy underlies. + +And if my heart and flesh are weak +To bear an untried pain, +The bruised reed He will not break, +But strengthen and sustain. + +No offering of my own I have, +Nor works my faith to prove; +I can but give the gifts He gave, +And plead His love for love. + +And so beside the Silent Sea +I wait the muffled oar; +No harm from Him can come to me +On ocean or on shore. + +I know not where His islands lift +Their fronded palms in air; +I only know I cannot drift +Beyond His love and care. + +O brothers! if my faith is vain, +If hopes like these betray, +Pray for me that my feet may gain +The sure and safer way. + +And Thou, O Lord! by whom are seen +Thy creatures as they be, +Forgive me if too close I lean +My human heart on Thee! +1865. + + + +THE COMMON QUESTION. + +Behind us at our evening meal +The gray bird ate his fill, +Swung downward by a single claw, +And wiped his hooked bill. + +He shook his wings and crimson tail, +And set his head aslant, +And, in his sharp, impatient way, +Asked, "What does Charlie want?" + +"Fie, silly bird!" I answered, "tuck +Your head beneath your wing, +And go to sleep;"--but o'er and o'er +He asked the self-same thing. + +Then, smiling, to myself I said +How like are men and birds! +We all are saying what he says, +In action or in words. + +The boy with whip and top and drum, +The girl with hoop and doll, +And men with lands and houses, ask +The question of Poor Poll. + +However full, with something more +We fain the bag would cram; +We sigh above our crowded nets +For fish that never swam. + +No bounty of indulgent Heaven +The vague desire can stay; +Self-love is still a Tartar mill +For grinding prayers alway. + +The dear God hears and pities all; +He knoweth all our wants; +And what we blindly ask of Him +His love withholds or grants. + +And so I sometimes think our prayers +Might well be merged in one; +And nest and perch and hearth and church +Repeat, "Thy will be done." + + + +OUR MASTER. + +Immortal Love, forever full, +Forever flowing free, +Forever shared, forever whole, +A never-ebbing sea! + +Our outward lips confess the name +All other names above; +Love only knoweth whence it came +And comprehendeth love. + +Blow, winds of God, awake and blow +The mists of earth away! +Shine out, O Light Divine, and show +How wide and far we stray! + +Hush every lip, close every book, +The strife of tongues forbear; +Why forward reach, or backward look, +For love that clasps like air? + +We may not climb the heavenly steeps +To bring the Lord Christ down +In vain we search the lowest deeps, +For Him no depths can drown. + +Nor holy bread, nor blood of grape, +The lineaments restore +Of Him we know in outward shape +And in the flesh no more. + +He cometh not a king to reign; +The world's long hope is dim; +The weary centuries watch in vain +The clouds of heaven for Him. + +Death comes, life goes; the asking eye +And ear are answerless; +The grave is dumb, the hollow sky +Is sad with silentness. + +The letter fails, and systems fall, +And every symbol wanes; +The Spirit over-brooding all +Eternal Love remains. + +And not for signs in heaven above +Or earth below they look, +Who know with John His smile of love, +With Peter His rebuke. + +In joy of inward peace, or sense +Of sorrow over sin, +He is His own best evidence, +His witness is within. + +No fable old, nor mythic lore, +Nor dream of bards and seers, +No dead fact stranded on the shore +Of the oblivious years;-- + +But warm, sweet, tender, even yet +A present help is He; +And faith has still its Olivet, +And love its Galilee. + +The healing of His seamless dress +Is by our beds of pain; +We touch Him in life's throng and press, +And we are whole again. + +Through Him the first fond prayers are said +Our lips of childhood frame, +The last low whispers of our dead +Are burdened with His name. + +Our Lord and Master of us all! +Whate'er our name or sign, +We own Thy sway, we hear Thy call, +We test our lives by Thine. + +Thou judgest us; Thy purity +Doth all our lusts condemn; +The love that draws us nearer Thee +Is hot with wrath to them. + +Our thoughts lie open to Thy sight; +And, naked to Thy glance, +Our secret sins are in the light +Of Thy pure countenance. + +Thy healing pains, a keen distress +Thy tender light shines in; +Thy sweetness is the bitterness, +Thy grace the pang of sin. + +Yet, weak and blinded though we be, +Thou dost our service own; +We bring our varying gifts to Thee, +And Thou rejectest none. + +To Thee our full humanity, +Its joys and pains, belong; +The wrong of man to man on Thee +Inflicts a deeper wrong. + +Who hates, hates Thee, who loves becomes +Therein to Thee allied; +All sweet accords of hearts and homes +In Thee are multiplied. + +Deep strike Thy roots, O heavenly Vine, +Within our earthly sod, +Most human and yet most divine, +The flower of man and God! + +O Love! O Life! Our faith and sight +Thy presence maketh one +As through transfigured clouds of white +We trace the noon-day sun. + +So, to our mortal eyes subdued, +Flesh-veiled, but not concealed, +We know in Thee the fatherhood +And heart of God revealed. + +We faintly hear, we dimly see, +In differing phrase we pray; +But, dim or clear, we own in Thee +The Light, the Truth, the Way! + +The homage that we render Thee +Is still our Father's own; +No jealous claim or rivalry +Divides the Cross and Throne. + +To do Thy will is more than praise, +As words are less than deeds, +And simple trust can find Thy ways +We miss with chart of creeds. + +No pride of self Thy service hath, +No place for me and mine; +Our human strength is weakness, death +Our life, apart from Thine. + +Apart from Thee all gain is loss, +All labor vainly done; +The solemn shadow of Thy Cross +Is better than the sun. + +Alone, O Love ineffable! +Thy saving name is given; +To turn aside from Thee is hell, +To walk with Thee is heaven! + +How vain, secure in all Thou art, +Our noisy championship +The sighing of the contrite heart +Is more than flattering lip. + +Not Thine the bigot's partial plea, +Nor Thine the zealot's ban; +Thou well canst spare a love of Thee +Which ends in hate of man. + +Our Friend, our Brother, and our Lord, +What may Thy service be?-- +Nor name, nor form, nor ritual word, +But simply following Thee. + +We bring no ghastly holocaust, +We pile no graven stone; +He serves thee best who loveth most +His brothers and Thy own. + +Thy litanies, sweet offices +Of love and gratitude; +Thy sacramental liturgies, +The joy of doing good. + +In vain shall waves of incense drift +The vaulted nave around, +In vain the minster turret lift +Its brazen weights of sound. + +The heart must ring Thy Christmas bells, +Thy inward altars raise; +Its faith and hope Thy canticles, +And its obedience praise! +1866. + + + +THE MEETING. + + The two speakers in the meeting referred to in this poem were Avis + Keene, whose very presence was a benediction, a woman lovely in + spirit and person, whose words seemed a message of love and tender + concern to her hearers; and Sibyl Jones, whose inspired eloquence + and rare spirituality impressed all who knew her. In obedience to + her apprehended duty she made visits of Christian love to various + parts of Europe, and to the West Coast of Africa and Palestine. + +The elder folks shook hands at last, +Down seat by seat the signal passed. +To simple ways like ours unused, +Half solemnized and half amused, +With long-drawn breath and shrug, my guest +His sense of glad relief expressed. +Outside, the hills lay warm in sun; +The cattle in the meadow-run +Stood half-leg deep; a single bird +The green repose above us stirred. +"What part or lot have you," he said, +"In these dull rites of drowsy-head? +Is silence worship? Seek it where +It soothes with dreams the summer air, +Not in this close and rude-benched hall, +But where soft lights and shadows fall, +And all the slow, sleep-walking hours +Glide soundless over grass and flowers! +From time and place and form apart, +Its holy ground the human heart, +Nor ritual-bound nor templeward +Walks the free spirit of the Lord! +Our common Master did not pen +His followers up from other men; +His service liberty indeed, +He built no church, He framed no creed; +But while the saintly Pharisee +Made broader his phylactery, +As from the synagogue was seen +The dusty-sandalled Nazarene +Through ripening cornfields lead the way +Upon the awful Sabbath day, +His sermons were the healthful talk +That shorter made the mountain-walk, +His wayside texts were flowers and birds, +Where mingled with His gracious words +The rustle of the tamarisk-tree +And ripple-wash of Galilee." + +"Thy words are well, O friend," I said; +"Unmeasured and unlimited, +With noiseless slide of stone to stone, +The mystic Church of God has grown. +Invisible and silent stands +The temple never made with hands, +Unheard the voices still and small +Of its unseen confessional. +He needs no special place of prayer +Whose hearing ear is everywhere; +He brings not back the childish days +That ringed the earth with stones of praise, +Roofed Karnak's hall of gods, and laid +The plinths of Phil e's colonnade. +Still less He owns the selfish good +And sickly growth of solitude,-- +The worthless grace that, out of sight, +Flowers in the desert anchorite; +Dissevered from the suffering whole, +Love hath no power to save a soul. +Not out of Self, the origin +And native air and soil of sin, +The living waters spring and flow, +The trees with leaves of healing grow. + +"Dream not, O friend, because I seek +This quiet shelter twice a week, +I better deem its pine-laid floor +Than breezy hill or sea-sung shore; +But nature is not solitude +She crowds us with her thronging wood; +Her many hands reach out to us, +Her many tongues are garrulous; +Perpetual riddles of surprise +She offers to our ears and eyes; +She will not leave our senses still, +But drags them captive at her will +And, making earth too great for heaven, +She hides the Giver in the given. + +"And so, I find it well to come +For deeper rest to this still room, +For here the habit of the soul +Feels less the outer world's control; +The strength of mutual purpose pleads +More earnestly our common needs; +And from the silence multiplied +By these still forms on either side, +The world that time and sense have known +Falls off and leaves us God alone. + +"Yet rarely through the charmed repose +Unmixed the stream of motive flows, +A flavor of its many springs, +The tints of earth and sky it brings; +In the still waters needs must be +Some shade of human sympathy; +And here, in its accustomed place, +I look on memory's dearest face; +The blind by-sitter guesseth not +What shadow haunts that vacant spot; +No eyes save mine alone can see +The love wherewith it welcomes me! +And still, with those alone my kin, +In doubt and weakness, want and sin, +I bow my head, my heart I bare +As when that face was living there, +And strive (too oft, alas! in vain) +The peace of simple trust to gain, +Fold fancy's restless wings, and lay +The idols of my heart away. + +"Welcome the silence all unbroken, +Nor less the words of fitness spoken,-- +Such golden words as hers for whom +Our autumn flowers have just made room; +Whose hopeful utterance through and through +The freshness of the morning blew; +Who loved not less the earth that light +Fell on it from the heavens in sight, +But saw in all fair forms more fair +The Eternal beauty mirrored there. +Whose eighty years but added grace +And saintlier meaning to her face,-- +The look of one who bore away +Glad tidings from the hills of day, +While all our hearts went forth to meet +The coming of her beautiful feet! +Or haply hers, whose pilgrim tread +Is in the paths where Jesus led; +Who dreams her childhood's Sabbath dream +By Jordan's willow-shaded stream, +And, of the hymns of hope and faith, +Sung by the monks of Nazareth, +Hears pious echoes, in the call +To prayer, from Moslem minarets fall, +Repeating where His works were wrought +The lesson that her Master taught, +Of whom an elder Sibyl gave, +The prophecies of Cuma 's cave. + +"I ask no organ's soulless breath +To drone the themes of life and death, +No altar candle-lit by day, +No ornate wordsman's rhetoric-play, +No cool philosophy to teach +Its bland audacities of speech +To double-tasked idolaters +Themselves their gods and worshippers, +No pulpit hammered by the fist +Of loud-asserting dogmatist, +Who borrows for the Hand of love +The smoking thunderbolts of Jove. +I know how well the fathers taught, +What work the later schoolmen wrought; +I reverence old-time faith and men, +But God is near us now as then; +His force of love is still unspent, +His hate of sin as imminent; +And still the measure of our needs +Outgrows the cramping bounds of creeds; +The manna gathered yesterday +Already savors of decay; +Doubts to the world's child-heart unknown +Question us now from star and stone; +Too little or too much we know, +And sight is swift and faith is slow; +The power is lost to self-deceive +With shallow forms of make-believe. +W e walk at high noon, and the bells +Call to a thousand oracles, +But the sound deafens, and the light +Is stronger than our dazzled sight; +The letters of the sacred Book +Glimmer and swim beneath our look; +Still struggles in the Age's breast +With deepening agony of quest +The old entreaty: 'Art thou He, +Or look we for the Christ to be?' + +"God should be most where man is least +So, where is neither church nor priest, +And never rag of form or creed +To clothe the nakedness of need,-- +Where farmer-folk in silence meet,-- +I turn my bell-unsummoned feet;' +I lay the critic's glass aside, +I tread upon my lettered pride, +And, lowest-seated, testify +To the oneness of humanity; +Confess the universal want, +And share whatever Heaven may grant. +He findeth not who seeks his own, +The soul is lost that's saved alone. +Not on one favored forehead fell +Of old the fire-tongued miracle, +But flamed o'er all the thronging host +The baptism of the Holy Ghost; +Heart answers heart: in one desire +The blending lines of prayer aspire; +'Where, in my name, meet two or three,' +Our Lord hath said, 'I there will be!' + +"So sometimes comes to soul and sense +The feeling which is evidence +That very near about us lies +The realm of spiritual mysteries. +The sphere of the supernal powers +Impinges on this world of ours. +The low and dark horizon lifts, +To light the scenic terror shifts; +The breath of a diviner air +Blows down the answer of a prayer +That all our sorrow, pain, and doubt +A great compassion clasps about, +And law and goodness, love and force, +Are wedded fast beyond divorce. +Then duty leaves to love its task, +The beggar Self forgets to ask; +With smile of trust and folded hands, +The passive soul in waiting stands +To feel, as flowers the sun and dew, +The One true Life its own renew. + +"So, to the calmly gathered thought +The innermost of truth is taught, +The mystery dimly understood, +That love of God is love of good, +And, chiefly, its divinest trace +In Him of Nazareth's holy face; +That to be saved is only this,-- +Salvation from our selfishness, +From more than elemental fire, +The soul's unsanetified desire, +From sin itself, and not the pain +That warns us of its chafing chain; +That worship's deeper meaning lies +In mercy, and not sacrifice, +Not proud humilities of sense +And posturing of penitence, +But love's unforced obedience; +That Book and Church and Day are given +For man, not God,--for earth, not heaven,-- +The blessed means to holiest ends, +Not masters, but benignant friends; +That the dear Christ dwells not afar, +The king of some remoter star, +Listening, at times, with flattered ear +To homage wrung from selfish fear, +But here, amidst the poor and blind, +The bound and suffering of our kind, +In works we do, in prayers we pray, +Life of our life, He lives to-day." +1868. + + + +THE CLEAR VISION. + +I did but dream. I never knew +What charms our sternest season wore. +Was never yet the sky so blue, +Was never earth so white before. +Till now I never saw the glow +Of sunset on yon hills of snow, +And never learned the bough's designs +Of beauty in its leafless lines. + +Did ever such a morning break +As that my eastern windows see? +Did ever such a moonlight take +Weird photographs of shrub and tree? +Rang ever bells so wild and fleet +The music of the winter street? +Was ever yet a sound by half +So merry as you school-boy's laugh? + +O Earth! with gladness overfraught, +No added charm thy face hath found; +Within my heart the change is wrought, +My footsteps make enchanted ground. +From couch of pain and curtained room +Forth to thy light and air I come, +To find in all that meets my eyes +The freshness of a glad surprise. + +Fair seem these winter days, and soon +Shall blow the warm west-winds of spring, +To set the unbound rills in tune +And hither urge the bluebird's wing. +The vales shall laugh in flowers, the woods +Grow misty green with leafing buds, +And violets and wind-flowers sway +Against the throbbing heart of May. + +Break forth, my lips, in praise, and own +The wiser love severely kind; +Since, richer for its chastening grown, +I see, whereas I once was blind. +The world, O Father! hath not wronged +With loss the life by Thee prolonged; +But still, with every added year, +More beautiful Thy works appear! + +As Thou hast made thy world without, +Make Thou more fair my world within; +Shine through its lingering clouds of doubt; +Rebuke its haunting shapes of sin; +Fill, brief or long, my granted span +Of life with love to thee and man; +Strike when thou wilt the hour of rest, +But let my last days be my best! +2d mo., 1868. + + + +DIVINE COMPASSION. + +Long since, a dream of heaven I had, +And still the vision haunts me oft; +I see the saints in white robes clad, +The martyrs with their palms aloft; +But hearing still, in middle song, +The ceaseless dissonance of wrong; +And shrinking, with hid faces, from the strain +Of sad, beseeching eyes, full of remorse and pain. + +The glad song falters to a wail, +The harping sinks to low lament; +Before the still unlifted veil +I see the crowned foreheads bent, +Making more sweet the heavenly air, +With breathings of unselfish prayer; +And a Voice saith: "O Pity which is pain, +O Love that weeps, fill up my sufferings which remain! + +"Shall souls redeemed by me refuse +To share my sorrow in their turn? +Or, sin-forgiven, my gift abuse +Of peace with selfish unconcern? +Has saintly ease no pitying care? +Has faith no work, and love no prayer? +While sin remains, and souls in darkness dwell, +Can heaven itself be heaven, and look unmoved on hell?" + +Then through the Gates of Pain, I dream, +A wind of heaven blows coolly in; +Fainter the awful discords seem, +The smoke of torment grows more thin, +Tears quench the burning soil, and thence +Spring sweet, pale flowers of penitence +And through the dreary realm of man's despair, +Star-crowned an angel walks, and to! God's hope is there! + +Is it a dream? Is heaven so high +That pity cannot breathe its air? +Its happy eyes forever dry, +Its holy lips without a prayer! +My God! my God! if thither led +By Thy free grace unmerited, +No crown nor palm be mine, but let me keep +A heart that still can feel, and eyes that still can weep. +1868. + + + +THE PRAYER-SEEKER. + +Along the aisle where prayer was made, +A woman, all in black arrayed, +Close-veiled, between the kneeling host, +With gliding motion of a ghost, +Passed to the desk, and laid thereon +A scroll which bore these words alone, +_Pray for me_! + +Back from the place of worshipping +She glided like a guilty thing +The rustle of her draperies, stirred +By hurrying feet, alone was heard; +While, full of awe, the preacher read, +As out into the dark she sped: +"_Pray for me_!" + +Back to the night from whence she came, +To unimagined grief or shame! +Across the threshold of that door +None knew the burden that she bore; +Alone she left the written scroll, +The legend of a troubled soul,-- +_Pray for me_! + +Glide on, poor ghost of woe or sin! +Thou leav'st a common need within; +Each bears, like thee, some nameless weight, +Some misery inarticulate, +Some secret sin, some shrouded dread, +Some household sorrow all unsaid. +_Pray for us_! + +Pass on! The type of all thou art, +Sad witness to the common heart! +With face in veil and seal on lip, +In mute and strange companionship, +Like thee we wander to and fro, +Dumbly imploring as we go +_Pray for us_! + +Ah, who shall pray, since he who pleads +Our want perchance hath greater needs? +Yet they who make their loss the gain +Of others shall not ask in vain, +And Heaven bends low to hear the prayer +Of love from lips of self-despair +_Pray for us_! + +In vain remorse and fear and hate +Beat with bruised bands against a fate +Whose walls of iron only move +And open to the touch of love. +He only feels his burdens fall +Who, taught by suffering, pities all. +_Pray for us_! + +He prayeth best who leaves unguessed +The mystery of another's breast. +Why cheeks grow pale, why eyes o'erflow, +Or heads are white, thou need'st not know. +Enough to note by many a sign +That every heart hath needs like thine. +_Pray for us_! +1870 + + + +THE BREWING OF SOMA. + + "These libations mixed with milk have been prepared for Indra: + offer Soma to the drinker of Soma." + --Vashista, translated by MAX MULLER. + +The fagots blazed, the caldron's smoke +Up through the green wood curled; +"Bring honey from the hollow oak, +Bring milky sap," the brewers spoke, +In the childhood of the world. + +And brewed they well or brewed they ill, +The priests thrust in their rods, +First tasted, and then drank their fill, +And shouted, with one voice and will, +"Behold the drink of gods!" + +They drank, and to! in heart and brain +A new, glad life began; +The gray of hair grew young again, +The sick man laughed away his pain, +The cripple leaped and ran. + +"Drink, mortals, what the gods have sent, +Forget your long annoy." +So sang the priests. From tent to tent +The Soma's sacred madness went, +A storm of drunken joy. + +Then knew each rapt inebriate +A winged and glorious birth, +Soared upward, with strange joy elate, +Beat, with dazed head, Varuna's gate, +And, sobered, sank to earth. + +The land with Soma's praises rang; +On Gihon's banks of shade +Its hymns the dusky maidens sang; +In joy of life or mortal pang +All men to Soma prayed. + +The morning twilight of the race +Sends down these matin psalms; +And still with wondering eyes we trace +The simple prayers to Soma's grace, +That Vedic verse embalms. + +As in that child-world's early year, +Each after age has striven +By music, incense, vigils drear, +And trance, to bring the skies more near, +Or lift men up to heaven! + +Some fever of the blood and brain, +Some self-exalting spell, +The scourger's keen delight of pain, +The Dervish dance, the Orphic strain, +The wild-haired Bacchant's yell,-- + +The desert's hair-grown hermit sunk +The saner brute below; +The naked Santon, hashish-drunk, +The cloister madness of the monk, +The fakir's torture-show! + +And yet the past comes round again, +And new doth old fulfil; +In sensual transports wild as vain +We brew in many a Christian fane +The heathen Soma still! + +Dear Lord and Father of mankind, +Forgive our foolish ways! +Reclothe us in our rightful mind, +In purer lives Thy service find, +In deeper reverence, praise. + +In simple trust like theirs who heard +Beside the Syrian sea +The gracious calling of the Lord, +Let us, like them, without a word, +Rise up and follow Thee. + +O Sabbath rest by Galilee! +O calm of hills above, +Where Jesus knelt to share with Thee +The silence of eternity +Interpreted by love! + +With that deep hush subduing all +Our words and works that drown +The tender whisper of Thy call, +As noiseless let Thy blessing fall +As fell Thy manna down. + +Drop Thy still dews of quietness, +Till all our strivings cease; +Take from our souls the strain and stress, +And let our ordered lives confess +The beauty of Thy peace. + +Breathe through the heats of our desire +Thy coolness and Thy balm; +Let sense be dumb, let flesh retire; +Speak through the earthquake, wind, and fire, +O still, small voice of calm! +1872. + + + +A WOMAN. + +Oh, dwarfed and wronged, and stained with ill, +Behold! thou art a woman still! +And, by that sacred name and dear, +I bid thy better self appear. +Still, through thy foul disguise, I see +The rudimental purity, +That, spite of change and loss, makes good +Thy birthright-claim of womanhood; +An inward loathing, deep, intense; +A shame that is half innocence. +Cast off the grave-clothes of thy sin! +Rise from the dust thou liest in, +As Mary rose at Jesus' word, +Redeemed and white before the Lord! +Reclairn thy lost soul! In His name, +Rise up, and break thy bonds of shame. +Art weak? He 's strong. Art fearful? Hear +The world's O'ercomer: "Be of cheer!" +What lip shall judge when He approves? +Who dare to scorn the child He loves? + + + +THE PRAYER OF AGASSIZ. + + The island of Penikese in Buzzard's Bay was given by Mr. John + Anderson to Agassiz for the uses of a summer school of natural + history. A large barn was cleared and improvised as a lecture-room. + Here, on the first morning of the school, all the company was + gathered. "Agassiz had arranged no programme of exercises," says + Mrs. Agassiz, in Louis Agassiz; his Life and Correspondence, + "trusting to the interest of the occasion to suggest what might best + be said or done. But, as he looked upon his pupils gathered there + to study nature with him, by an impulse as natural as it was + unpremeditated, he called upon then to join in silently asking + God's blessing on their work together. The pause was broken by the + first words of an address no less fervent than its unspoken + prelude." This was in the summer of 1873, and Agassiz died the + December following. + +On the isle of Penikese, +Ringed about by sapphire seas, +Fanned by breezes salt and cool, +Stood the Master with his school. +Over sails that not in vain +Wooed the west-wind's steady strain, +Line of coast that low and far +Stretched its undulating bar, +Wings aslant along the rim +Of the waves they stooped to skim, +Rock and isle and glistening bay, +Fell the beautiful white day. + +Said the Master to the youth +"We have come in search of truth, +Trying with uncertain key +Door by door of mystery; +We are reaching, through His laws, +To the garment-hem of Cause, +Him, the endless, unbegun, +The Unnamable, the One +Light of all our light the Source, +Life of life, and Force of force. +As with fingers of the blind, +We are groping here to find +What the hieroglyphics mean +Of the Unseen in the seen, +What the Thought which underlies +Nature's masking and disguise, +What it is that hides beneath +Blight and bloom and birth and death. +By past efforts unavailing, +Doubt and error, loss and failing, +Of our weakness made aware, +On the threshold of our task +Let us light and guidance ask, +Let us pause in silent prayer!" + +Then the Master in his place +Bowed his head a little space, +And the leaves by soft airs stirred, +Lapse of wave and cry of bird, +Left the solemn hush unbroken +Of that wordless prayer unspoken, +While its wish, on earth unsaid, +Rose to heaven interpreted. +As, in life's best hours, we hear +By the spirit's finer ear +His low voice within us, thus +The All-Father heareth us; +And His holy ear we pain +With our noisy words and vain. +Not for Him our violence +Storming at the gates of sense, +His the primal language, His +The eternal silences! + +Even the careless heart was moved, +And the doubting gave assent, +With a gesture reverent, +To the Master well-beloved. +As thin mists are glorified +By the light they cannot hide, +All who gazed upon him saw, +Through its veil of tender awe, +How his face was still uplit +By the old sweet look of it. +Hopeful, trustful, full of cheer, +And the love that casts out fear. +Who the secret may declare +Of that brief, unuttered prayer? +Did the shade before him come +Of th' inevitable doom, +Of the end of earth so near, +And Eternity's new year? + +In the lap of sheltering seas +Rests the isle of Penikese; +But the lord of the domain +Comes not to his own again +Where the eyes that follow fail, +On a vaster sea his sail +Drifts beyond our beck and hail. +Other lips within its bound +Shall the laws of life expound; +Other eyes from rock and shell +Read the world's old riddles well +But when breezes light and bland +Blow from Summer's blossomed land, +When the air is glad with wings, +And the blithe song-sparrow sings, +Many an eye with his still face +Shall the living ones displace, +Many an ear the word shall seek +He alone could fitly speak. +And one name forevermore +Shall be uttered o'er and o'er +By the waves that kiss the shore, +By the curlew's whistle sent +Down the cool, sea-scented air; +In all voices known to her, +Nature owns her worshipper, +Half in triumph, half lament. +Thither Love shall tearful turn, +Friendship pause uncovered there, +And the wisest reverence learn +From the Master's silent prayer. +1873. + + + +IN QUEST + +Have I not voyaged, friend beloved, with thee +On the great waters of the unsounded sea, +Momently listening with suspended oar +For the low rote of waves upon a shore +Changeless as heaven, where never fog-cloud drifts +Over its windless wood, nor mirage lifts +The steadfast hills; where never birds of doubt +Sing to mislead, and every dream dies out, +And the dark riddles which perplex us here +In the sharp solvent of its light are clear? +Thou knowest how vain our quest; how, soon or late, +The baffling tides and circles of debate +Swept back our bark unto its starting-place, +Where, looking forth upon the blank, gray space, +And round about us seeing, with sad eyes, +The same old difficult hills and cloud-cold skies, +We said: "This outward search availeth not +To find Him. He is farther than we thought, +Or, haply, nearer. To this very spot +Whereon we wait, this commonplace of home, +As to the well of Jacob, He may come +And tell us all things." As I listened there, +Through the expectant silences of prayer, +Somewhat I seemed to hear, which hath to me +Been hope, strength, comfort, and I give it thee. + +"The riddle of the world is understood +Only by him who feels that God is good, +As only he can feel who makes his love +The ladder of his faith, and climbs above +On th' rounds of his best instincts; draws no line +Between mere human goodness and divine, +But, judging God by what in him is best, +With a child's trust leans on a Father's breast, +And hears unmoved the old creeds babble still +Of kingly power and dread caprice of will, +Chary of blessing, prodigal of curse, +The pitiless doomsman of the universe. +Can Hatred ask for love? Can Selfishness +Invite to self-denial? Is He less +Than man in kindly dealing? Can He break +His own great law of fatherhood, forsake +And curse His children? Not for earth and heaven +Can separate tables of the law be given. +No rule can bind which He himself denies; +The truths of time are not eternal lies." + +So heard I; and the chaos round me spread +To light and order grew; and, "Lord," I said, +"Our sins are our tormentors, worst of all +Felt in distrustful shame that dares not call +Upon Thee as our Father. We have set +A strange god up, but Thou remainest yet. +All that I feel of pity Thou hast known +Before I was; my best is all Thy own. +From Thy great heart of goodness mine but drew +Wishes and prayers; but Thou, O Lord, wilt do, +In Thy own time, by ways I cannot see, +All that I feel when I am nearest Thee!" +1873. + + + +THE FRIEND'S BURIAL. + +My thoughts are all in yonder town, +Where, wept by many tears, +To-day my mother's friend lays down +The burden of her years. + +True as in life, no poor disguise +Of death with her is seen, +And on her simple casket lies +No wreath of bloom and green. + +Oh, not for her the florist's art, +The mocking weeds of woe; +Dear memories in each mourner's heart +Like heaven's white lilies blow. + +And all about the softening air +Of new-born sweetness tells, +And the ungathered May-flowers wear +The tints of ocean shells. + +The old, assuring miracle +Is fresh as heretofore; +And earth takes up its parable +Of life from death once more. + +Here organ-swell and church-bell toll +Methinks but discord were; +The prayerful silence of the soul +Is best befitting her. + +No sound should break the quietude +Alike of earth and sky +O wandering wind in Seabrook wood, +Breathe but a half-heard sigh! + +Sing softly, spring-bird, for her sake; +And thou not distant sea, +Lapse lightly as if Jesus spake, +And thou wert Galilee! + +For all her quiet life flowed on +As meadow streamlets flow, +Where fresher green reveals alone +The noiseless ways they go. + +From her loved place of prayer I see +The plain-robed mourners pass, +With slow feet treading reverently +The graveyard's springing grass. + +Make room, O mourning ones, for me, +Where, like the friends of Paul, +That you no more her face shall see +You sorrow most of all. + +Her path shall brighten more and more +Unto the perfect day; +She cannot fail of peace who bore +Such peace with her away. + +O sweet, calm face that seemed to wear +The look of sins forgiven! +O voice of prayer that seemed to bear +Our own needs up to heaven! + +How reverent in our midst she stood, +Or knelt in grateful praise! +What grace of Christian womanhood +Was in her household ways! + +For still her holy living meant +No duty left undone; +The heavenly and the human blent +Their kindred loves in one. + +And if her life small leisure found +For feasting ear and eye, +And Pleasure, on her daily round, +She passed unpausing by, + +Yet with her went a secret sense +Of all things sweet and fair, +And Beauty's gracious providence +Refreshed her unaware. + +She kept her line of rectitude +With love's unconscious ease; +Her kindly instincts understood +All gentle courtesies. + +An inborn charm of graciousness +Made sweet her smile and tone, +And glorified her farm-wife dress +With beauty not its own. + +The dear Lord's best interpreters +Are humble human souls; +The Gospel of a life like hers +Is more than books or scrolls. + +From scheme and creed the light goes out, +The saintly fact survives; +The blessed Master none can doubt +Revealed in holy lives. +1873. + + + +A CHRISTMAS CARMEN. + +I. +Sound over all waters, reach out from all lands, +The chorus of voices, the clasping of hands; +Sing hymns that were sung by the stars of the morn, +Sing songs of the angels when Jesus was born! +With glad jubilations +Bring hope to the nations +The dark night is ending and dawn has begun +Rise, hope of the ages, arise like the sun, +All speech flow to music, all hearts beat as one! + +II. +Sing the bridal of nations! with chorals of love +Sing out the war-vulture and sing in the dove, +Till the hearts of the peoples keep time in accord, +And the voice of the world is the voice of the Lord! +Clasp hands of the nations +In strong gratulations: +The dark night is ending and dawn has begun; +Rise, hope of the ages, arise like the sun, +All speech flow to music, all hearts beat as one! + +III. +Blow, bugles of battle, the marches of peace; +East, west, north, and south let the long quarrel cease +Sing the song of great joy that the angels began, +Sing of glory to God and of good-will to man! +Hark! joining in chorus +The heavens bend o'er us' +The dark night is ending and dawn has begun; +Rise, hope of the ages, arise like the sun, +All speech flow to music, all hearts beat as one! +1873. + + + +VESTA. + +O Christ of God! whose life and death +Our own have reconciled, +Most quietly, most tenderly +Take home Thy star-named child! + +Thy grace is in her patient eyes, +Thy words are on her tongue; +The very silence round her seems +As if the angels sung. + +Her smile is as a listening child's +Who hears its mother call; +The lilies of Thy perfect peace +About her pillow fall. + +She leans from out our clinging arms +To rest herself in Thine; +Alone to Thee, dear Lord, can we +Our well-beloved resign! + +Oh, less for her than for ourselves +We bow our heads and pray; +Her setting star, like Bethlehem's, +To Thee shall point the way! +1874. + + + +CHILD-SONGS. + +Still linger in our noon of time +And on our Saxon tongue +The echoes of the home-born hymns +The Aryan mothers sung. + +And childhood had its litanies +In every age and clime; +The earliest cradles of the race +Were rocked to poet's rhyme. + +Nor sky, nor wave, nor tree, nor flower, +Nor green earth's virgin sod, +So moved the singer's heart of old +As these small ones of God. + +The mystery of unfolding life +Was more than dawning morn, +Than opening flower or crescent moon +The human soul new-born. + +And still to childhood's sweet appeal +The heart of genius turns, +And more than all the sages teach +From lisping voices learns,-- + +The voices loved of him who sang, +Where Tweed and Teviot glide, +That sound to-day on all the winds +That blow from Rydal-side,-- + +Heard in the Teuton's household songs, +And folk-lore of the Finn, +Where'er to holy Christmas hearths +The Christ-child enters in! + +Before life's sweetest mystery still +The heart in reverence kneels; +The wonder of the primal birth +The latest mother feels. + +We need love's tender lessons taught +As only weakness can; +God hath His small interpreters; +The child must teach the man. + +We wander wide through evil years, +Our eyes of faith grow dim; +But he is freshest from His hands +And nearest unto Him! + +And haply, pleading long with Him +For sin-sick hearts and cold, +The angels of our childhood still +The Father's face behold. + +Of such the kingdom!--Teach Thou us, +O-Master most divine, +To feel the deep significance +Of these wise words of Thine! + +The haughty eye shall seek in vain +What innocence beholds; +No cunning finds the key of heaven, +No strength its gate unfolds. + +Alone to guilelessness and love +That gate shall open fall; +The mind of pride is nothingness, +The childlike heart is all! +1875. + + + +THE HEALER. + + TO A YOUNG PHYSICIAN, WITH DORE'S PICTURE OF CHRIST + HEALING THE SICK. + +So stood of old the holy Christ +Amidst the suffering throng; +With whom His lightest touch sufficed +To make the weakest strong. + +That healing gift He lends to them +Who use it in His name; +The power that filled His garment's hem +Is evermore the same. + +For lo! in human hearts unseen +The Healer dwelleth still, +And they who make His temples clean +The best subserve His will. + +The holiest task by Heaven decreed, +An errand all divine, +The burden of our common need +To render less is thine. + +The paths of pain are thine. Go forth +With patience, trust, and hope; +The sufferings of a sin-sick earth +Shall give thee ample scope. + +Beside the unveiled mysteries +Of life and death go stand, +With guarded lips and reverent eyes +And pure of heart and hand. + +So shalt thou be with power endued +From Him who went about +The Syrian hillsides doing good, +And casting demons out. + +That Good Physician liveth yet +Thy friend and guide to be; +The Healer by Gennesaret +Shall walk the rounds with thee. + + + +THE TWO ANGELS. + +God called the nearest angels who dwell with Him above: +The tenderest one was Pity, the dearest one was Love. + +"Arise," He said, "my angels! a wail of woe and sin +Steals through the gates of heaven, and saddens all within. + +"My harps take up the mournful strain that from a lost world swells, +The smoke of torment clouds the light and blights the asphodels. + +"Fly downward to that under world, and on its souls of pain +Let Love drop smiles like sunshine, and Pity tears like rain!" + +Two faces bowed before the Throne, veiled in their golden hair; +Four white wings lessened swiftly down the dark abyss of air. + +The way was strange, the flight was long; at last the angels came +Where swung the lost and nether world, red-wrapped in rayless flame. + +There Pity, shuddering, wept; but Love, with faith too strong for fear, +Took heart from God's almightiness and smiled a smile of cheer. + +And lo! that tear of Pity quenched the flame whereon it fell, +And, with the sunshine of that smile, hope entered into hell! + +Two unveiled faces full of joy looked upward to the Throne, +Four white wings folded at the feet of Him who sat thereon! + +And deeper than the sound of seas, more soft than falling flake, +Amidst the hush of wing and song the Voice Eternal spake: + +"Welcome, my angels! ye have brought a holier joy to heaven; +Henceforth its sweetest song shall be the song of sin forgiven!" +1875. + + + +OVERRULED. + +The threads our hands in blindness spin +No self-determined plan weaves in; +The shuttle of the unseen powers +Works out a pattern not as ours. + +Ah! small the choice of him who sings +What sound shall leave the smitten strings; +Fate holds and guides the hand of art; +The singer's is the servant's part. + +The wind-harp chooses not the tone +That through its trembling threads is blown; +The patient organ cannot guess +What hand its passive keys shall press. + +Through wish, resolve, and act, our will +Is moved by undreamed forces still; +And no man measures in advance +His strength with untried circumstance. + +As streams take hue from shade and sun, +As runs the life the song must run; +But, glad or sad, to His good end +God grant the varying notes may tend! +1877. + + + +HYMN OF THE DUNKERS + +KLOSTER KEDAR, EPHRATA, PENNSYLVANIA (1738) + +SISTER MARIA CHRISTINA sings + +Wake, sisters, wake! the day-star shines; +Above Ephrata's eastern pines +The dawn is breaking, cool and calm. +Wake, sisters, wake to prayer and psalm! + +Praised be the Lord for shade and light, +For toil by day, for rest by night! +Praised be His name who deigns to bless +Our Kedar of the wilderness! + +Our refuge when the spoiler's hand +Was heavy on our native land; +And freedom, to her children due, +The wolf and vulture only knew. + +We praised Him when to prison led, +We owned Him when the stake blazed red; +We knew, whatever might befall, +His love and power were over all. + +He heard our prayers; with outstretched arm +He led us forth from cruel harm; +Still, wheresoe'er our steps were bent, +His cloud and fire before us went! + +The watch of faith and prayer He set, +We kept it then, we keep it yet. +At midnight, crow of cock, or noon, +He cometh sure, He cometh soon. + +He comes to chasten, not destroy, +To purge the earth from sin's alloy. +At last, at last shall all confess +His mercy as His righteousness. + +The dead shall live, the sick be whole, +The scarlet sin be white as wool; +No discord mar below, above, +The music of eternal love! + +Sound, welcome trump, the last alarm! +Lord God of hosts, make bare thine arm, +Fulfil this day our long desire, +Make sweet and clean the world with fire! + +Sweep, flaming besom, sweep from sight +The lies of time; be swift to smite, +Sharp sword of God, all idols down, +Genevan creed and Roman crown. + +Quake, earth, through all thy zones, till all +The fanes of pride and priesteraft fall; +And lift thou up in place of them +Thy gates of pearl, Jerusalem! + +Lo! rising from baptismal flame, +Transfigured, glorious, yet the same, +Within the heavenly city's bound +Our Kloster Kedar shall be found. + +He cometh soon! at dawn or noon +Or set of sun, He cometh soon. +Our prayers shall meet Him on His way; +Wake, sisters, wake! arise and pray! +1877. + + + +GIVING AND TAKING. + + I have attempted to put in English verse a prose translation of a + poem by Tinnevaluva, a Hindoo poet of the third century of our era. + +Who gives and hides the giving hand, +Nor counts on favor, fame, or praise, +Shall find his smallest gift outweighs +The burden of the sea and land. + +Who gives to whom hath naught been given, +His gift in need, though small indeed +As is the grass-blade's wind-blown seed, +Is large as earth and rich as heaven. + +Forget it not, O man, to whom +A gift shall fall, while yet on earth; +Yea, even to thy seven-fold birth +Recall it in the lives to come. + +Who broods above a wrong in thought +Sins much; but greater sin is his +Who, fed and clothed with kindnesses, +Shall count the holy alms as nought. + +Who dares to curse the hands that bless +Shall know of sin the deadliest cost; +The patience of the heavens is lost +Beholding man's unthankfulness. + +For he who breaks all laws may still +In Sivam's mercy be forgiven; +But none can save, in earth or heaven, +The wretch who answers good with ill. +1877. + + + +THE VISION OF ECHARD. + +The Benedictine Echard +Sat by the wayside well, +Where Marsberg sees the bridal +Of the Sarre and the Moselle. + +Fair with its sloping vineyards +And tawny chestnut bloom, +The happy vale Ausonius sunk +For holy Treves made room. + +On the shrine Helena builded +To keep the Christ coat well, +On minster tower and kloster cross, +The westering sunshine fell. + +There, where the rock-hewn circles +O'erlooked the Roman's game, +The veil of sleep fell on him, +And his thought a dream became. + +He felt the heart of silence +Throb with a soundless word, +And by the inward ear alone +A spirit's voice he heard. + +And the spoken word seemed written +On air and wave and sod, +And the bending walls of sapphire +Blazed with the thought of God. + +"What lack I, O my children? +All things are in my band; +The vast earth and the awful stars +I hold as grains of sand. + +"Need I your alms? The silver +And gold are mine alone; +The gifts ye bring before me +Were evermore my own. + +"Heed I the noise of viols, +Your pomp of masque and show? +Have I not dawns and sunsets +Have I not winds that blow? + +"Do I smell your gums of incense? +Is my ear with chantings fed? +Taste I your wine of worship, +Or eat your holy bread? + +"Of rank and name and honors +Am I vain as ye are vain? +What can Eternal Fulness +From your lip-service gain? + +"Ye make me not your debtor +Who serve yourselves alone; +Ye boast to me of homage +Whose gain is all your own. + +"For you I gave the prophets, +For you the Psalmist's lay +For you the law's stone tables, +And holy book and day. + +"Ye change to weary burdens +The helps that should uplift; +Ye lose in form the spirit, +The Giver in the gift. + +"Who called ye to self-torment, +To fast and penance vain? +Dream ye Eternal Goodness +Has joy in mortal pain? + +"For the death in life of Nitria, +For your Chartreuse ever dumb, +What better is the neighbor, +Or happier the home? + +"Who counts his brother's welfare +As sacred as his own, +And loves, forgives, and pities, +He serveth me alone. + +"I note each gracious purpose, +Each kindly word and deed; +Are ye not all my children? +Shall not the Father heed? + +"No prayer for light and guidance +Is lost upon mine ear +The child's cry in the darkness +Shall not the Father hear? + +"I loathe your wrangling councils, +I tread upon your creeds; +Who made ye mine avengers, +Or told ye of my needs; + +"I bless men and ye curse them, +I love them and ye hate; +Ye bite and tear each other, +I suffer long and wait. + +"Ye bow to ghastly symbols, +To cross and scourge and thorn; +Ye seek his Syrian manger +Who in the heart is born. + +"For the dead Christ, not the living, +Ye watch His empty grave, +Whose life alone within you +Has power to bless and save. + +"O blind ones, outward groping, +The idle quest forego; +Who listens to His inward voice +Alone of Him shall know. + +"His love all love exceeding +The heart must needs recall, +Its self-surrendering freedom, +Its loss that gaineth all. + +"Climb not the holy mountains, +Their eagles know not me; +Seek not the Blessed Islands, +I dwell not in the sea. + +"Gone is the mount of Meru, +The triple gods are gone, +And, deaf to all the lama's prayers, +The Buddha slumbers on. + +"No more from rocky Horeb +The smitten waters gush; +Fallen is Bethel's ladder, +Quenched is the burning bush. + +"The jewels of the Urim +And Thurnmim all are dim; +The fire has left the altar, +The sign the teraphim. + +"No more in ark or hill grove +The Holiest abides; +Not in the scroll's dead letter +The eternal secret hides. + +"The eye shall fail that searches +For me the hollow sky; +The far is even as the near, +The low is as the high. + +"What if the earth is hiding +Her old faiths, long outworn? +What is it to the changeless truth +That yours shall fail in turn? + +"What if the o'erturned altar +Lays bare the ancient lie? +What if the dreams and legends +Of the world's childhood die? + +"Have ye not still my witness +Within yourselves alway, +My hand that on the keys of life +For bliss or bale I lay? + +"Still, in perpetual judgment, +I hold assize within, +With sure reward of holiness, +And dread rebuke of sin. + +"A light, a guide, a warning, +A presence ever near, +Through the deep silence of the flesh +I reach the inward ear. + +"My Gerizim and Ebal +Are in each human soul, +The still, small voice of blessing, +And Sinai's thunder-roll. + +"The stern behest of duty, +The doom-book open thrown, +The heaven ye seek, the hell ye fear, +Are with yourselves alone." + + . . . . . + +A gold and purple sunset +Flowed down the broad Moselle; +On hills of vine and meadow lands +The peace of twilight fell. + +A slow, cool wind of evening +Blew over leaf and bloom; +And, faint and far, the Angelus +Rang from Saint Matthew's tomb. + +Then up rose Master Echard, +And marvelled: "Can it be +That here, in dream and vision, +The Lord hath talked with me?" + +He went his way; behind him +The shrines of saintly dead, +The holy coat and nail of cross, +He left unvisited. + +He sought the vale of Eltzbach +His burdened soul to free, +Where the foot-hills of the Eifel +Are glassed in Laachersee. + +And, in his Order's kloster, +He sat, in night-long parle, +With Tauler of the Friends of God, +And Nicolas of Basle. + +And lo! the twain made answer +"Yea, brother, even thus +The Voice above all voices +Hath spoken unto us. + +"The world will have its idols, +And flesh and sense their sign +But the blinded eyes shall open, +And the gross ear be fine. + +"What if the vision tarry? +God's time is always best; +The true Light shall be witnessed, +The Christ within confessed. + +"In mercy or in judgment +He shall turn and overturn, +Till the heart shall be His temple +Where all of Him shall learn." + + + +INSCRIPTIONS. + +ON A SUN-DIAL. + +FOR DR. HENRY I. BOWDITCH. + +With warning hand I mark Time's rapid flight +From life's glad morning to its solemn night; +Yet, through the dear God's love, I also show +There's Light above me by the Shade below. +1879. + + + +ON A FOUNTAIN. + +FOR DOROTHEA L. DIX. + +Stranger and traveller, +Drink freely and bestow +A kindly thought on her +Who bade this fountain flow, +Yet hath no other claim +Than as the minister +Of blessing in God's name. +Drink, and in His peace go +1879 + + +THE MINISTER'S DAUGHTER. + +In the minister's morning sermon +He had told of the primal fall, +And how thenceforth the wrath of God +Rested on each and all. + +And how of His will and pleasure, +All souls, save a chosen few, +Were doomed to the quenchless burning, +And held in the way thereto. + +Yet never by faith's unreason +A saintlier soul was tried, +And never the harsh old lesson +A tenderer heart belied. + +And, after the painful service +On that pleasant Sabbath day, +He walked with his little daughter +Through the apple-bloom of May. + +Sweet in the fresh green meadows +Sparrow and blackbird sung; +Above him their tinted petals +The blossoming orchards hung. + +Around on the wonderful glory +The minister looked and smiled; +"How good is the Lord who gives us +These gifts from His hand, my child. + +"Behold in the bloom of apples +And the violets in the sward +A hint of the old, lost beauty +Of the Garden of the Lord!" + +Then up spake the little maiden, +Treading on snow and pink +"O father! these pretty blossoms +Are very wicked, I think. + +"Had there been no Garden of Eden +There never had been a fall; +And if never a tree had blossomed +God would have loved us all." + +"Hush, child!" the father answered, +"By His decree man fell; +His ways are in clouds and darkness, +But He doeth all things well. + +"And whether by His ordaining +To us cometh good or ill, +Joy or pain, or light or shadow, +We must fear and love Him still." + +"Oh, I fear Him!" said the daughter, +"And I try to love Him, too; +But I wish He was good and gentle, +Kind and loving as you." + +The minister groaned in spirit +As the tremulous lips of pain +And wide, wet eyes uplifted +Questioned his own in vain. + +Bowing his head he pondered +The words of the little one; +Had he erred in his life-long teaching? +Had he wrong to his Master done? + +To what grim and dreadful idol +Had he lent the holiest name? +Did his own heart, loving and human, +The God of his worship shame? + +And lo! from the bloom and greenness, +From the tender skies above, +And the face of his little daughter, +He read a lesson of love. + +No more as the cloudy terror +Of Sinai's mount of law, +But as Christ in the Syrian lilies +The vision of God he saw. + +And, as when, in the clefts of Horeb, +Of old was His presence known, +The dread Ineffable Glory +Was Infinite Goodness alone. + +Thereafter his hearers noted +In his prayers a tenderer strain, +And never the gospel of hatred +Burned on his lips again. + +And the scoffing tongue was prayerful, +And the blinded eyes found sight, +And hearts, as flint aforetime, +Grew soft in his warmth and light. +1880. + + + +BY THEIR WORKS. + +Call him not heretic whose works attest +His faith in goodness by no creed confessed. +Whatever in love's name is truly done +To free the bound and lift the fallen one +Is done to Christ. Whoso in deed and word +Is not against Him labors for our Lord. +When He, who, sad and weary, longing sore +For love's sweet service, sought the sisters' door, +One saw the heavenly, one the human guest, +But who shall say which loved the Master best? +1881. + + + +THE WORD. + +Voice of the Holy Spirit, making known +Man to himself, a witness swift and sure, +Warning, approving, true and wise and pure, +Counsel and guidance that misleadeth none! +By thee the mystery of life is read; +The picture-writing of the world's gray seers, +The myths and parables of the primal years, +Whose letter kills, by thee interpreted +Take healthful meanings fitted to our needs, +And in the soul's vernacular express +The common law of simple righteousness. +Hatred of cant and doubt of human creeds +May well be felt: the unpardonable sin +Is to deny the Word of God within! +1881. + + + +THE BOOK. + +Gallery of sacred pictures manifold, +A minster rich in holy effigies, +And bearing on entablature and frieze +The hieroglyphic oracles of old. +Along its transept aureoled martyrs sit; +And the low chancel side-lights half acquaint +The eye with shrines of prophet, bard, and saint, +Their age-dimmed tablets traced in doubtful writ! +But only when on form and word obscure +Falls from above the white supernal light +We read the mystic characters aright, +And life informs the silent portraiture, +Until we pause at last, awe-held, before +The One ineffable Face, love, wonder, and adore. +1881 + + + +REQUIREMENT. + +We live by Faith; but Faith is not the slave +Of text and legend. Reason's voice and God's, +Nature's and Duty's, never are at odds. +What asks our Father of His children, save +Justice and mercy and humility, +A reasonable service of good deeds, +Pure living, tenderness to human needs, +Reverence and trust, and prayer for light to see +The Master's footprints in our daily ways? +No knotted scourge nor sacrificial knife, +But the calm beauty of an ordered life +Whose very breathing is unworded praise!-- +A life that stands as all true lives have stood, +Firm-rooted in the faith that God is Good. +1881. + + + +HELP. + +Dream not, O Soul, that easy is the task +Thus set before thee. If it proves at length, +As well it may, beyond thy natural strength, +Faint not, despair not. As a child may ask +A father, pray the Everlasting Good +For light and guidance midst the subtle snares +Of sin thick planted in life's thoroughfares, +For spiritual strength and moral hardihood; +Still listening, through the noise of time and sense, +To the still whisper of the Inward Word; +Bitter in blame, sweet in approval heard, +Itself its own confirming evidence +To health of soul a voice to cheer and please, +To guilt the wrath of the Eumenides. +1881. + + + +UTTERANCE. +But what avail inadequate words to reach +The innermost of Truth? Who shall essay, +Blinded and weak, to point and lead the way, +Or solve the mystery in familiar speech? +Yet, if it be that something not thy own, +Some shadow of the Thought to which our schemes, +Creeds, cult, and ritual are at best but dreams, +Is even to thy unworthiness made known, +Thou mayst not hide what yet thou shouldst not dare +To utter lightly, lest on lips of thine +The real seem false, the beauty undivine. +So, weighing duty in the scale of prayer, +Give what seems given thee. It may prove a seed +Of goodness dropped in fallow-grounds of need. +1881. + + + +ORIENTAL MAXIMS. + +PARAPHRASE OF SANSCRIT TRANSLATIONS. + +THE INWARD JUDGE. + +From Institutes of Manu. + +The soul itself its awful witness is. +Say not in evil doing, "No one sees," +And so offend the conscious One within, +Whose ear can hear the silences of sin. + +Ere they find voice, whose eyes unsleeping see +The secret motions of iniquity. +Nor in thy folly say, "I am alone." +For, seated in thy heart, as on a throne, +The ancient Judge and Witness liveth still, +To note thy act and thought; and as thy ill +Or good goes from thee, far beyond thy reach, +The solemn Doomsman's seal is set on each. +1878. + + + +LAYING UP TREASURE + +From the Mahabharata. + +Before the Ender comes, whose charioteer +Is swift or slow Disease, lay up each year +Thy harvests of well-doing, wealth that kings +Nor thieves can take away. When all the things +Thou tallest thine, goods, pleasures, honors fall, +Thou in thy virtue shalt survive them all. +1881. + + + +CONDUCT + +From the Mahabharata. + +Heed how thou livest. Do no act by day +Which from the night shall drive thy peace away. +In months of sun so live that months of rain +Shall still be happy. Evermore restrain +Evil and cherish good, so shall there be +Another and a happier life for thee. +1881. + + + +AN EASTER FLOWER GIFT. + +O dearest bloom the seasons know, +Flowers of the Resurrection blow, +Our hope and faith restore; +And through the bitterness of death +And loss and sorrow, breathe a breath +Of life forevermore! + +The thought of Love Immortal blends +With fond remembrances of friends; +In you, O sacred flowers, +By human love made doubly sweet, +The heavenly and the earthly meet, +The heart of Christ and ours! +1882. + + + +THE MYSTIC'S CHRISTMAS. + +"All hail!" the bells of Christmas rang, +"All hail!" the monks at Christmas sang, +The merry monks who kept with cheer +The gladdest day of all their year. + +But still apart, unmoved thereat, +A pious elder brother sat +Silent, in his accustomed place, +With God's sweet peace upon his face. + +"Why sitt'st thou thus?" his brethren cried. +"It is the blessed Christmas-tide; +The Christmas lights are all aglow, +The sacred lilies bud and blow. + +"Above our heads the joy-bells ring, +Without the happy children sing, +And all God's creatures hail the morn +On which the holy Christ was born! + +"Rejoice with us; no more rebuke +Our gladness with thy quiet look." +The gray monk answered: "Keep, I pray, +Even as ye list, the Lord's birthday. + +"Let heathen Yule fires flicker red +Where thronged refectory feasts are spread; +With mystery-play and masque and mime +And wait-songs speed the holy time! + +"The blindest faith may haply save; +The Lord accepts the things we have; +And reverence, howsoe'er it strays, +May find at last the shining ways. + +"They needs must grope who cannot see, +The blade before the ear must be; +As ye are feeling I have felt, +And where ye dwell I too have dwelt. + +"But now, beyond the things of sense, +Beyond occasions and events, +I know, through God's exceeding grace, +Release from form and time and place. + +"I listen, from no mortal tongue, +To hear the song the angels sung; +And wait within myself to know +The Christmas lilies bud and blow. + +"The outward symbols disappear +From him whose inward sight is clear; +And small must be the choice of clays +To him who fills them all with praise! + +"Keep while you need it, brothers mine, +With honest zeal your Christmas sign, +But judge not him who every morn +Feels in his heart the Lord Christ born!" +1882. + + + +AT LAST. + +When on my day of life the night is falling, +And, in the winds from unsunned spaces blown, +I hear far voices out of darkness calling +My feet to paths unknown, + +Thou who hast made my home of life so pleasant, +Leave not its tenant when its walls decay; +O Love Divine, O Helper ever present, +Be Thou my strength and stay! + +Be near me when all else is from me drifting +Earth, sky, home's pictures, days of shade and shine, +And kindly faces to my own uplifting +The love which answers mine. + +I have but Thee, my Father! let Thy spirit +Be with me then to comfort and uphold; +No gate of pearl, no branch of palm I merit, +Nor street of shining gold. + +Suffice it if--my good and ill unreckoned, +And both forgiven through Thy abounding grace-- +I find myself by hands familiar beckoned +Unto my fitting place. + +Some humble door among Thy many mansions, +Some sheltering shade where sin and striving cease, +And flows forever through heaven's green expansions +The river of Thy peace. + +There, from the music round about me stealing, +I fain would learn the new and holy song, +And find at last, beneath Thy trees of healing, +The life for which I long. +1882 + + + +WHAT THE TRAVELLER SAID AT SUNSET. + +The shadows grow and deepen round me, +I feel the deffall in the air; +The muezzin of the darkening thicket, +I hear the night-thrush call to prayer. + +The evening wind is sad with farewells, +And loving hands unclasp from mine; +Alone I go to meet the darkness +Across an awful boundary-line. + +As from the lighted hearths behind me +I pass with slow, reluctant feet, +What waits me in the land of strangeness? +What face shall smile, what voice shall greet? + +What space shall awe, what brightness blind me? +What thunder-roll of music stun? +What vast processions sweep before me +Of shapes unknown beneath the sun? + +I shrink from unaccustomed glory, +I dread the myriad-voiced strain; +Give me the unforgotten faces, +And let my lost ones speak again. + +He will not chide my mortal yearning +Who is our Brother and our Friend; +In whose full life, divine and human, +The heavenly and the earthly blend. + +Mine be the joy of soul-communion, +The sense of spiritual strength renewed, +The reverence for the pure and holy, +The dear delight of doing good. + +No fitting ear is mine to listen +An endless anthem's rise and fall; +No curious eye is mine to measure +The pearl gate and the jasper wall. + +For love must needs be more than knowledge: +What matter if I never know +Why Aldebaran's star is ruddy, +Or warmer Sirius white as snow! + +Forgive my human words, O Father! +I go Thy larger truth to prove; +Thy mercy shall transcend my longing +I seek but love, and Thou art Love! + +I go to find my lost and mourned for +Safe in Thy sheltering goodness still, +And all that hope and faith foreshadow +Made perfect in Thy holy will! +1883. + + + +THE "STORY OF IDA." + + Francesca Alexander, whose pen and pencil have so reverently + transcribed the simple faith and life of the Italian peasantry, + wrote the narrative published with John Ruskin's introduction under + the title, _The Story of Ida_. + +Weary of jangling noises never stilled, +The skeptic's sneer, the bigot's hate, the din +Of clashing texts, the webs of creed men spin +Round simple truth, the children grown who build +With gilded cards their new Jerusalem, +Busy, with sacerdotal tailorings +And tinsel gauds, bedizening holy things, +I turn, with glad and grateful heart, from them +To the sweet story of the Florentine +Immortal in her blameless maidenhood, +Beautiful as God's angels and as good; +Feeling that life, even now, may be divine +With love no wrong can ever change to hate, +No sin make less than all-compassionate! +1884. + + + +THE LIGHT THAT IS FELT. + +A tender child of summers three, +Seeking her little bed at night, +Paused on the dark stair timidly. +"Oh, mother! Take my hand," said she, +"And then the dark will all be light." + +We older children grope our way +From dark behind to dark before; +And only when our hands we lay, +Dear Lord, in Thine, the night is day, +And there is darkness nevermore. + +Reach downward to the sunless days +Wherein our guides are blind as we, +And faith is small and hope delays; +Take Thou the hands of prayer we raise, +And let us feel the light of Thee! +1884. + + + +THE TWO LOVES + +Smoothing soft the nestling head +Of a maiden fancy-led, +Thus a grave-eyed woman said: + +"Richest gifts are those we make, +Dearer than the love we take +That we give for love's own sake. + +"Well I know the heart's unrest; +Mine has been the common quest, +To be loved and therefore blest. + +"Favors undeserved were mine; +At my feet as on a shrine +Love has laid its gifts divine. + +"Sweet the offerings seemed, and yet +With their sweetness came regret, +And a sense of unpaid debt. + +"Heart of mine unsatisfied, +Was it vanity or pride +That a deeper joy denied? + +"Hands that ope but to receive +Empty close; they only live +Richly who can richly give. + +"Still," she sighed, with moistening eyes, +"Love is sweet in any guise; +But its best is sacrifice! + +"He who, giving, does not crave +Likest is to Him who gave +Life itself the loved to save. + +"Love, that self-forgetful gives, +Sows surprise of ripened sheaves, +Late or soon its own receives." +1884. + + + +ADJUSTMENT. + +The tree of Faith its bare, dry boughs must shed +That nearer heaven the living ones may climb; +The false must fail, though from our shores of time +The old lament be heard, "Great Pan is dead!" +That wail is Error's, from his high place hurled; +This sharp recoil is Evil undertrod; +Our time's unrest, an angel sent of God +Troubling with life the waters of the world. +Even as they list the winds of the Spirit blow +To turn or break our century-rusted vanes; +Sands shift and waste; the rock alone remains +Where, led of Heaven, the strong tides come and go, +And storm-clouds, rent by thunderbolt and wind, +Leave, free of mist, the permanent stars behind. + +Therefore I trust, although to outward sense +Both true and false seem shaken; I will hold +With newer light my reverence for the old, +And calmly wait the births of Providence. +No gain is lost; the clear-eyed saints look down +Untroubled on the wreck of schemes and creeds; +Love yet remains, its rosary of good deeds +Counting in task-field and o'erpeopled town; +Truth has charmed life; the Inward Word survives, +And, day by day, its revelation brings; +Faith, hope, and charity, whatsoever things +Which cannot be shaken, stand. Still holy lives +Reveal the Christ of whom the letter told, +And the new gospel verifies the old. +1885. + + + +HYMNS OF THE BRAHMO SOMAJ. + + I have attempted this paraphrase of the Hymns of the Brahmo Somaj + of India, as I find them in Mozoomdar's account of the devotional + exercises of that remarkable religious development which has + attracted far less attention and sympathy from the Christian world + than it deserves, as a fresh revelation of the direct action of the + Divine Spirit upon the human heart. + +I. +The mercy, O Eternal One! +By man unmeasured yet, +In joy or grief, in shade or sun, +I never will forget. +I give the whole, and not a part, +Of all Thou gayest me; +My goods, my life, my soul and heart, +I yield them all to Thee! + +II. +We fast and plead, we weep and pray, +From morning until even; +We feel to find the holy way, +We knock at the gate of heaven +And when in silent awe we wait, +And word and sign forbear, +The hinges of the golden gate +Move, soundless, to our prayer! +Who hears the eternal harmonies +Can heed no outward word; +Blind to all else is he who sees +The vision of the Lord! + +III. +O soul, be patient, restrain thy tears, +Have hope, and not despair; +As a tender mother heareth her child +God hears the penitent prayer. +And not forever shall grief be thine; +On the Heavenly Mother's breast, +Washed clean and white in the waters of joy +Shall His seeking child find rest. +Console thyself with His word of grace, +And cease thy wail of woe, +For His mercy never an equal hath, +And His love no bounds can know. +Lean close unto Him in faith and hope; +How many like thee have found +In Him a shelter and home of peace, +By His mercy compassed round! +There, safe from sin and the sorrow it brings, +They sing their grateful psalms, +And rest, at noon, by the wells of God, +In the shade of His holy palms! +1885. + + + +REVELATION. + + "And I went into the Vale of Beavor, and as I went I preached + repentance to the people. And one morning, sitting by the fire, a + great cloud came over me, and a temptation beset me. And it was + said: All things come by Nature; and the Elements and the Stars + came over me. And as I sat still and let it alone, a living hope + arose in me, and a true Voice which said: There is a living God who + made all things. And immediately the cloud and the temptation + vanished, and Life rose over all, and my heart was glad and I + praised the Living God."--Journal of George Fox, + 1690. + +Still, as of old, in Beavor's Vale, +O man of God! our hope and faith +The Elements and Stars assail, +And the awed spirit holds its breath, +Blown over by a wind of death. + +Takes Nature thought for such as we, +What place her human atom fills, +The weed-drift of her careless sea, +The mist on her unheeding hills? +What reeks she of our helpless wills? + +Strange god of Force, with fear, not love, +Its trembling worshipper! Can prayer +Reach the shut ear of Fate, or move +Unpitying Energy to spare? +What doth the cosmic Vastness care? + +In vain to this dread Unconcern +For the All-Father's love we look; +In vain, in quest of it, we turn +The storied leaves of Nature's book, +The prints her rocky tablets took. + +I pray for faith, I long to trust; +I listen with my heart, and hear +A Voice without a sound: "Be just, +Be true, be merciful, revere +The Word within thee: God is near! + +"A light to sky and earth unknown +Pales all their lights: a mightier force +Than theirs the powers of Nature own, +And, to its goal as at its source, +His Spirit moves the Universe. + +"Believe and trust. Through stars and suns, +Through life and death, through soul and sense, +His wise, paternal purpose runs; +The darkness of His providence +Is star-lit with benign intents." + +O joy supreme! I know the Voice, +Like none beside on earth or sea; +Yea, more, O soul of mine, rejoice, +By all that He requires of me, +I know what God himself must be. + +No picture to my aid I call, +I shape no image in my prayer; +I only know in Him is all +Of life, light, beauty, everywhere, +Eternal Goodness here and there! + +I know He is, and what He is, +Whose one great purpose is the good +Of all. I rest my soul on His +Immortal Love and Fatherhood; +And trust Him, as His children should. + +I fear no more. The clouded face +Of Nature smiles; through all her things +Of time and space and sense I trace +The moving of the Spirit's wings, +And hear the song of hope she sings. +1886 + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, RELIGIOUS POEMS II. *** +By John Greenleaf Whittier + +**** This file should be named 9573.txt or 9573.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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