« ForrigeFortsæt »
But in the traveller's heart a secret sense
Lifts to the starry calm of heaven his eyes ;
“ 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
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 ? ”
Across the sea I heard the groans
Of nations in the intervals
Their blood and bones
And sucked by priestly cannibals.
By martyr meekness, patience, faith.
With corded muscles battle-strained,
Shouting it from the fields of death!
I turn me, awe-struck, from the sight,
Among the clamoring thousands mute,
Shall tread the darkness under foot.
I know the pent fire heaves its crust,
That sultry skies the bolt will form To smite them clear; that Nature must The balance of her powers adjust,
Though with the earthquake and the storm. God reigns, and let the earth rejoice!
I bow before His sterner plan. Dumb are the organs of my choice; He speaks in battle's stormy voice,
His praise is in the wrath of man!
Of peace He promised shall be ours,
And sow its ghastly fields with flowers !
THE RIVER PATH
No.bird-song floated down the hill,
No rustle from the birchen stem,
The dusk of twilight round us grew,
For, from us, ere the day was done,
But on the river's farther side
A tender glow, exceeding fair,
With us the damp, the chill, the gloom :
While dark, through willowy vistas seen,
From out the darkness where we trod
Whose light seemed not of moon or sun.
And stilled our beating hearts to hear
Sudden our pathway turned from night;
Through their green gates the sunshine showed, A long, slant splendor downward flowed.
Down glade and glen and bank it rolled ;
“So,” prayed we, “ when our feet draw near The river dark, with mortal fear,
" And the night cometh chill with dew,
" So let the hills of doubt divide,
“ So let the eyes that fail on earth On thy eternal.hills look forth ;
“ And in thy beckoning angels know The dear ones whom we loved below !”
M. A. C.
O THICKER, deeper, darker growing,
The solemn vista to the tomb
And give another cypress room.
We walked, O friend, from childhood's day;
Our footprints track a common way.
To make the world within our reach
And gladder for our human speech.
The old beguiling song of fame,
And love was better than a name.
To homely joys and loves and friendships
Thy genial nature fondly clung ; And so the shadow on the dial
Ran back and left thee always young.
Which, only to thyself unjust,
And dwarfed thy own with self-distrust ? All hearts grew warmer in the presence
Of one who, seeking not his own, Gave freely for the love of giving,
Nor reaped for self the harvest sown. Thy greeting smile was pledge and prelude
Of generous deeds and kindly words ; In thy large heart were fair guest-chambers,
Open to sunrise and the birds !
The task was thine to mould and fashion
Life's plastic newness into grace ; To make the boyish heart heroic,
And light with thought the maiden's face. O'er all the land, in town and prairie,
With bended heads of mourning, stand The living forms that owe their beauty
And fitness to thy shaping hand.
Thy call has come in ripened manhood,
The noonday calm of heart and mind, While I, who dreamed of thy remaining
To mourn me, linger still behind : Live on, to own, with self-upbraiding,
A debt of love still due from me,The vain remembrance of occasions,
Forever lost, of serving thee.