 | The complete poetical writings of J. G. Holland |  |
503
HER ARGUMENT.
“Donald's dead,” she murmured, smiling, as she met me at the door.
“Come and see the little fellow ere we carry him away!”
Then she turned with queenly gesture, and walked firmly on before,
To the chamber where the coffin and its lovely burden lay.
“Come and see the little fellow ere we carry him away!”
Then she turned with queenly gesture, and walked firmly on before,
To the chamber where the coffin and its lovely burden lay.
She was not of earth that morning; she was up among the spheres—
Cloud and darkness underneath, and round her paradisal air—
For her eyes had seen a vision that forbade their falling tears,
And her heart had framed an argument that banished her despair.
Cloud and darkness underneath, and round her paradisal air—
For her eyes had seen a vision that forbade their falling tears,
And her heart had framed an argument that banished her despair.
Smiling lips and waxen forehead, folded hands and pulseless breast,
There he lay the household treasure to be hidden ere the night!
And the mother stood above him with her hands together pressed
In a rapture of thanksgiving—in a transport of delight!
There he lay the household treasure to be hidden ere the night!
And the mother stood above him with her hands together pressed
In a rapture of thanksgiving—in a transport of delight!
504
Then she spoke: “An angel met him at the parting of his breath,
For he reached his hands up swiftly, and he answered with a smile!
Ah my Donald, darling Donald! Thou art conqueror of death!
Evil cannot now disturb thee, nor the touch of sin defile.
For he reached his hands up swiftly, and he answered with a smile!
Ah my Donald, darling Donald! Thou art conqueror of death!
Evil cannot now disturb thee, nor the touch of sin defile.
“Do not stray too far, my Donald! Linger for me on the hills!
Oh, there's time enough for straying! Wait and see it all with me!
I shall go to thee when graciously the Heavenly Father wills,
And I know that I shall know thee, whensoever it may be!”
Oh, there's time enough for straying! Wait and see it all with me!
I shall go to thee when graciously the Heavenly Father wills,
And I know that I shall know thee, whensoever it may be!”
I had come to bring her comfort, but I stood in dumb amaze,
For her peace was like a river and her joy too full for speech.
I had come to lead her sobbing through the dim and doubtful ways
That philosophy discloses and the hackneyed schoolmen teach.
For her peace was like a river and her joy too full for speech.
I had come to lead her sobbing through the dim and doubtful ways
That philosophy discloses and the hackneyed schoolmen teach.
She had learned a better logic; she was mistress of the hour;
And I stood before her, humbled, knowing that my scheme was vain.
“Tell me, woman,” said I, trembling—“tell me, if thou hast the power,
How thou knowest that this little boy of thine shall live again?”
And I stood before her, humbled, knowing that my scheme was vain.
“Tell me, woman,” said I, trembling—“tell me, if thou hast the power,
How thou knowest that this little boy of thine shall live again?”
505
“Sweetest thing in earth and heaven”—made she answer to my quest—
“Life of Godhead, breath of angels, every good and gift above,
Was bestowed upon my Donald—lived and throbbed within his breast—
God had given him love for largess, and had given him power to love!
“Life of Godhead, breath of angels, every good and gift above,
Was bestowed upon my Donald—lived and throbbed within his breast—
God had given him love for largess, and had given him power to love!
“If He had not loved my Donald, would He, think you, have bestowed
What was best in all His kingdom—what was royal and divine—
On the little earthly nature, till I knew it the abode
Of the presence of The Master, and revered it as a shrine?
What was best in all His kingdom—what was royal and divine—
On the little earthly nature, till I knew it the abode
Of the presence of The Master, and revered it as a shrine?
“God is bountiful, but gives not gifts like this to stocks and stones!
His are all the living creatures on a thousand happy hills;
But He only gives them pleasure, and a place to hide their bones
When decay descends upon them, or the cruel hand that kills.
His are all the living creatures on a thousand happy hills;
But He only gives them pleasure, and a place to hide their bones
When decay descends upon them, or the cruel hand that kills.
“Would He fit a soul to love Him, and give nothing in return?
Would He care a soul should love Him if He did not love it well?
Love must find a love that answers, or with hopeless passion learn;
And God loves us, or our love is but the mockery of hell.
Would He care a soul should love Him if He did not love it well?
Love must find a love that answers, or with hopeless passion learn;
And God loves us, or our love is but the mockery of hell.
506
“This is certain as the sunlight, this is true as life is true:
And no soul can frame conception of a being so inane,
That, with power to save, He wills not to recover and renew
Every object of His tenderness that falls in mortal pain!
And no soul can frame conception of a being so inane,
That, with power to save, He wills not to recover and renew
Every object of His tenderness that falls in mortal pain!
“Oh I know it: God loved Donald; and He will not let him die.
Even I had saved him living if my love had had the might.
Did the God of earth and heaven love my darling less than I?
Having loved him will He damn him to the everlasting night?
Even I had saved him living if my love had had the might.
Did the God of earth and heaven love my darling less than I?
Having loved him will He damn him to the everlasting night?
“That is not the way of loving. Every instinct of love's power
Moves to shield its precious object from destruction and decay;
And I know that God loved Donald, and that Donald has for dower
Immortality of being, in the everlasting day!”
Moves to shield its precious object from destruction and decay;
And I know that God loved Donald, and that Donald has for dower
Immortality of being, in the everlasting day!”
| The complete poetical writings of J. G. Holland | |