 | New poems |  |
48
ODE ON ART.
[_]
[Written for and sung on the Semi-centennial Anniversary of the Massachusetts Charitable Mechanic Association.]
When God had of earth laid the viewless foundation,—
The pillars had reared which the firmament buoy,—
The stars of the morn sang in glad celebration,
And thus, “all the sons of God shouted for joy.”
In the blue vault sublime
Hung the clear lamps of time,
Their beams shedding warm on the young, teeming earth:
Sun and soft dewy hours
Spread the grass, leaves, and flowers;
As Nature awoke, hymning Heaven at her birth.
The pillars had reared which the firmament buoy,—
The stars of the morn sang in glad celebration,
And thus, “all the sons of God shouted for joy.”
In the blue vault sublime
Hung the clear lamps of time,
Their beams shedding warm on the young, teeming earth:
Sun and soft dewy hours
Spread the grass, leaves, and flowers;
As Nature awoke, hymning Heaven at her birth.
When earth had been stained till the deep's broken fountains
Were poured forth, and Nature was drowned as she stood,
The angel of Art sailed above the lost mountains,
And bore in her bosom our race, on the flood!
'T was a bright promise-bow,
Telling Art thence would go
From glory to glory, in goodness to man;
Plying her golden key
To the vast treasury
Unknown, but for her, in the world's mighty plan!
Were poured forth, and Nature was drowned as she stood,
The angel of Art sailed above the lost mountains,
And bore in her bosom our race, on the flood!
'T was a bright promise-bow,
Telling Art thence would go
From glory to glory, in goodness to man;
Plying her golden key
To the vast treasury
Unknown, but for her, in the world's mighty plan!
Her pupils are grand master-builders of nations;
To kings give they throne, sceptre, vesture, and crown;
They spread earth and sea with her fair new creations;
They prop up the states that would else crumble down!
Freedom's broad banner waves,
Armour her foemen braves;
While, warm from the depths of the heaven-kindled heart,
Music wafts praise, to rise
Up the far-ringing skies;
And all as the gifts of man's good angel, Art!
To kings give they throne, sceptre, vesture, and crown;
They spread earth and sea with her fair new creations;
They prop up the states that would else crumble down!
49
Armour her foemen braves;
While, warm from the depths of the heaven-kindled heart,
Music wafts praise, to rise
Up the far-ringing skies;
And all as the gifts of man's good angel, Art!
Her son is the rich man; his race are his debtors:
The elements list in his service, for them!
He gives sight to Blindness,—to Learning, her letters,—
To Plenty, her horn,—and to Beauty, her gem.
Water and fire at strife
Give his fleet courser life,
When earth soon is compassed, the deep quickly spanned!
Power and wealth sure are his,
In the fine mysteries
That move in the clay of his own plastic hand.
The elements list in his service, for them!
He gives sight to Blindness,—to Learning, her letters,—
To Plenty, her horn,—and to Beauty, her gem.
Water and fire at strife
Give his fleet courser life,
When earth soon is compassed, the deep quickly spanned!
Power and wealth sure are his,
In the fine mysteries
That move in the clay of his own plastic hand.
All hail to the Craftsmen, with hands that can labor,—
With arm nerved by purpose, and deeds spreading wide!
For these are the helper, the friend, brother, neighbour!
And poor but for them were the great world beside.
Ever be this their aim,—
In the cause and the name
Of man's Friend on high, that their works all be done,
Meekly who sojourned here,
Loved the poor, dried the tear,
And wrought, when below, as the Carpenter's Son.
With arm nerved by purpose, and deeds spreading wide!
For these are the helper, the friend, brother, neighbour!
And poor but for them were the great world beside.
Ever be this their aim,—
In the cause and the name
Of man's Friend on high, that their works all be done,
Meekly who sojourned here,
Loved the poor, dried the tear,
And wrought, when below, as the Carpenter's Son.
'T is they give to Commerce her ark on the ocean,
To Science her wand, and her star-sweeping wing;
They give temple, altar, and book to Devotion,
Through all the earth proclaiming our Saviour and King.
By the fond sisters three,
Faith, Hope, and Charity,
The last still the first, breathing life for the whole,
Be a house theirs, that stands
High, and “not made with hands,”
Though earth melt, and skies pass away as a scroll!
To Science her wand, and her star-sweeping wing;
They give temple, altar, and book to Devotion,
Through all the earth proclaiming our Saviour and King.
50
Faith, Hope, and Charity,
The last still the first, breathing life for the whole,
Be a house theirs, that stands
High, and “not made with hands,”
Though earth melt, and skies pass away as a scroll!
| New poems | |