Youthful years and maiden beauty, Ever in the New rejoicing, And the passing shades of sadness Every wing of bird above it, Every light cloud floating on, But, upon thy youthful forehead With an early introversion, Through the forms of outward things, Seeking for the subtle essence, And the hidden springs. Deeper than the gilded surface Hath thy wakeful vision seen, Thou hast midst Life's empty noises And the low mysterious voices All the mystery of Being Thoughts which, like the Deluge wanderer, That which mystic Plato pondered, In his night-watch saw. From the doubt and darkness springing Early hath Life's mighty question Hollow creed and ceremonial, Oracles, whose wire-worked meanings But, like some tired child at even, O'er that mother's rugged features O'er the rough chart of Existence, Soft airs breathe, and green leaves tremble, And to thee an answer cometh But a soul-sufficing answer More than Nature's many voices Even as the great Augustine And old poesy. But his earnest spirit needed More than outward Nature taught- Only in the gathered silence Of a calm and waiting frame Light and wisdom as from Heaven To the seeker came. Not to ease and aimless quiet Doth that inward answer tend, But to works of love and duty Not to idle dreams and trances, But to Faith, in daily striving Earnest toil and strong endeavor And without, with tireless vigor, Steady heart, and weapon strong, In the power of truth assailing Every form of wrong. Guided thus, how passing lovely Is the track of WOOLMAN's feet! And his brief and simple record How serenely sweet! O'er life's humblest duties throwing Light the earthling never knew, Freshening all its dark waste places As with Hermon's dew. All which glows in Pascal's pages- Beauty, such as Goethe pictured, Such as Shelley dreamed of, shed Living warmth and starry brightness Round that poor man's head. Not a vain and cold ideal, Not a poet's dream alone, But a presence warm and real, When the red right hand of slaughter Moulders with the steel it swung, When the name of seer and poet All bright thoughts and pure shall gather Take the good man's book and ponder If it only serves to strengthen If the pride of human reason If with readier ear thou heedest Thou mayest live to bless the giver, And his gift, though poor and lowly |