 | Abaddon, the spirit of destruction ; and other poems |  |
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BIRTHDAY MEDITATIONS.
So when Detraction and a Cynic's tongue
Have sunk desert unto the depth of wrong,
By that the eye of skill true worth may see
To brave the stars, though low his passage be.—
William Browne.
Have sunk desert unto the depth of wrong,
By that the eye of skill true worth may see
To brave the stars, though low his passage be.—
William Browne.
O'er him, to whom the heartless world appears
One vast aceldama of guilt and woe,
A desert watered by the bosom's tears,
That long have flowed and must forever flow,
Life's earlier hours with roselight radiance burn,
Kindling deep incense in oblivion's urn.
One vast aceldama of guilt and woe,
A desert watered by the bosom's tears,
That long have flowed and must forever flow,
Life's earlier hours with roselight radiance burn,
Kindling deep incense in oblivion's urn.
Blest is each scene of simple, trusting youth,
Ere the heart breathes earth's thick and tainted air,
When the soul bowed and worshipped holy truth,
And bade its voice her oracles declare;
Backward he gazes on life's morn, and sighs,
And pours his spirit through his swimming eyes.
Ere the heart breathes earth's thick and tainted air,
When the soul bowed and worshipped holy truth,
And bade its voice her oracles declare;
Backward he gazes on life's morn, and sighs,
And pours his spirit through his swimming eyes.
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A sunbeam hovering on its golden wing,
Mission'd from heaven to light this lowliest sphere,
The heart breathes music in its blossoming,
And throws its beauty o'er each infant year;
But, like a star in mist and moorlands lost,
It mourns, full soon, o'er all it loved the most.
Mission'd from heaven to light this lowliest sphere,
The heart breathes music in its blossoming,
And throws its beauty o'er each infant year;
But, like a star in mist and moorlands lost,
It mourns, full soon, o'er all it loved the most.
Quick o'er the gloomier realms of life in mirth
Bounding, the spirit drank the rainbow light
Of heaven, and scattered o'er the desert earth
Fair thoughts that gush'd in fountains ever bright;
Or brightness, shadowed for a moment, wore
A deeper beauty than it knew before.
Bounding, the spirit drank the rainbow light
Of heaven, and scattered o'er the desert earth
Fair thoughts that gush'd in fountains ever bright;
Or brightness, shadowed for a moment, wore
A deeper beauty than it knew before.
Through the vast glorious depths of summer's heaven
Rush the glad musings of the high-soul'd boy;
Wing'd spirits, harping 'mid the clouds of even,
Float round his path to crown his simple joy;
And fancy fables what the heart desires,
And songs of rapture gush from golden lyres.
Rush the glad musings of the high-soul'd boy;
Wing'd spirits, harping 'mid the clouds of even,
Float round his path to crown his simple joy;
And fancy fables what the heart desires,
And songs of rapture gush from golden lyres.
Then Nature triumphs: forest, field and grove,
Mountain and vale and ocean's pebbled shore,
All breathe out blessedness and hope and love,
Like Delphi and Dodona's woods of yore;
And magic sounds from the stirred foliage flow,
And the wild billows, murmuring as they glow.
Mountain and vale and ocean's pebbled shore,
All breathe out blessedness and hope and love,
Like Delphi and Dodona's woods of yore;
And magic sounds from the stirred foliage flow,
And the wild billows, murmuring as they glow.
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Love, truth and purity impart their sweet
And holy light to all they look upon;
And childhood blesses all its wanderings meet,
Leaving a track of rays when years have gone;
That when the bosom bleeds and thought grows cold,
We may look back and feel e'en as we felt of old.
And holy light to all they look upon;
And childhood blesses all its wanderings meet,
Leaving a track of rays when years have gone;
That when the bosom bleeds and thought grows cold,
We may look back and feel e'en as we felt of old.
Grief touches but taints not the budding heart;
Quick tears start only from the flashing eye;
Soon from young spirits mournful thoughts depart
Like melting vapours from the morning sky;
The radiant sunlight of the pure mind throws
A glorious beauty o'er our darkest woes.
Quick tears start only from the flashing eye;
Soon from young spirits mournful thoughts depart
Like melting vapours from the morning sky;
The radiant sunlight of the pure mind throws
A glorious beauty o'er our darkest woes.
'T is the wide pestilence of sin, that makes
This world the desert and the doom it is;—
Dark wanders midnight Fraud—and Baseness slakes
Its goul thirst in the nectar of our bliss;—
Affection shrinks—cold interest frowns on truth,
And love turns weeping to the bowers of youth.
This world the desert and the doom it is;—
Dark wanders midnight Fraud—and Baseness slakes
Its goul thirst in the nectar of our bliss;—
Affection shrinks—cold interest frowns on truth,
And love turns weeping to the bowers of youth.
There memory lingers o'er the hoarded words
Of sages old, the pleiades of earth;
And thoughts, that pierce like skill'd and mirror'd swords,
From the heart's sepulchre in clouds come forth;
Hoar wisdom and romance beneath the spell
Of music wed, and virtue cries “'t is well.”
Of sages old, the pleiades of earth;
And thoughts, that pierce like skill'd and mirror'd swords,
From the heart's sepulchre in clouds come forth;
Hoar wisdom and romance beneath the spell
Of music wed, and virtue cries “'t is well.”
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But soon from phantom dreams of happier days
We turn like pilgrims from the desert's fountain;
Hope faintly lights our lone and wandering ways
O'er the steep rocks and thorns of grief's bleak mountain;
Prudence and knowledge, gods of guilt and gain,
Fierce tyrants, rise and revel in our pain.
We turn like pilgrims from the desert's fountain;
Hope faintly lights our lone and wandering ways
O'er the steep rocks and thorns of grief's bleak mountain;
Prudence and knowledge, gods of guilt and gain,
Fierce tyrants, rise and revel in our pain.
Alas! a child, I sighed to be a man;—
I little knew the meaning of my prayer;—
I recked not as in youth's greenwood paths I ran,
How soon the clouds of ill would darken there!—
Sigh not for years—to tell thee life is woe—
Change, anguish, death—all thou canst feel below!
I little knew the meaning of my prayer;—
I recked not as in youth's greenwood paths I ran,
How soon the clouds of ill would darken there!—
Sigh not for years—to tell thee life is woe—
Change, anguish, death—all thou canst feel below!
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