Poems By John Moultrie. New ed |
 | I. |
| I. |
|
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
| IX. |
| X. |
| XI. |
| XII. |
| XIII. |
| XIV. |
|
|
|
| II. |
|
|
|
|
|
| I. |
| II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| II. |
| I. |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
| I. |
|
| II. |
|
THE WORLD WELL LOST.
|
|
|
 | Poems |  |
335
THE WORLD WELL LOST.
So it is done, and thou hast chosen
The good, the wise, the prudent part,
Ere Fancy's wild unrest had frozen
The well-springs of thy woman's heart.
The good, the wise, the prudent part,
Ere Fancy's wild unrest had frozen
The well-springs of thy woman's heart.
And thou canst bid farewell for ever
To joys which were thy life of life;
Exchange the artist's high endeavour
For the calm duties of the wife;
To joys which were thy life of life;
Exchange the artist's high endeavour
For the calm duties of the wife;
In self-denying strength of heart
Canst turn from plaudits long and loud,—
The triumphs of thy much-loved art,—
The homage of the admiring crowd,—
Canst turn from plaudits long and loud,—
The triumphs of thy much-loved art,—
The homage of the admiring crowd,—
From what thou didst more dearly prize,
The silence of the thoughtful few,—
The tears which from discerning eyes
The magic of thy genius drew,—
The silence of the thoughtful few,—
The tears which from discerning eyes
The magic of thy genius drew,—
Yea, even from Fancy's bright domain,
(That realm which thou didst range at will;—
Thy refuge long from care and pain,
Thy harbour in all storms of ill,)—
(That realm which thou didst range at will;—
Thy refuge long from care and pain,
Thy harbour in all storms of ill,)—
336
From this—from all which years had made
Thy own especial home to thee—
Thou turn'st—to dwell beneath the shade
Of Love's profound reality.
Thy own especial home to thee—
Thou turn'st—to dwell beneath the shade
Of Love's profound reality.
Even in thy pride and prime of power
(The rightful power of mind o'er mind)
Forgo'st thy nature's queenly dower
And leav'st lamenting realms behind.
(The rightful power of mind o'er mind)
Forgo'st thy nature's queenly dower
And leav'st lamenting realms behind.
Well hast thou done; ay! wisely well,
Nor unrewarded shalt thou be,
That thou didst not, through pride, rebel
Against thy better destiny.
Nor unrewarded shalt thou be,
That thou didst not, through pride, rebel
Against thy better destiny.
For all which to thy wondrous art
Its charm of moral grandeur lent—
Thy true nobility of heart,—
Thy fervour of sublime intent,—
Its charm of moral grandeur lent—
Thy true nobility of heart,—
Thy fervour of sublime intent,—
Thy sense of duty, strong and clear
As in thy great Taskmaster's eye,—
All this with tenfold light shall cheer
The stillness of thy privacy.
As in thy great Taskmaster's eye,—
All this with tenfold light shall cheer
The stillness of thy privacy.
And thou wilt tame thy spirit down
(That spirit of ethereal mould)
From graspings at world-wide renown,
To household duties manifold:
(That spirit of ethereal mould)
From graspings at world-wide renown,
To household duties manifold:
And thine shall be no eagle's nest,
But a calm dwelling, like the dove's,—
A home which “that sweet summer guest
The temple-haunting martlet” loves.
But a calm dwelling, like the dove's,—
A home which “that sweet summer guest
The temple-haunting martlet” loves.
337
And there shalt thou, with book and pen,
And studious thought, and letter'd ease,
And converse high of gifted men,
And bright-eyed children round thy knees,—
And studious thought, and letter'd ease,
And converse high of gifted men,
And bright-eyed children round thy knees,—
And more—O! how much more than all,—
A husband's deep, devoted love,
A happiness too pure to pall,—
The fulness of contentment, prove.
A husband's deep, devoted love,
A happiness too pure to pall,—
The fulness of contentment, prove.
Will this suffice thee?—hath thy heart
No loftier cravings to allay?
Wilt thou be satisfied a part
All earthy and of earth to play?
No loftier cravings to allay?
Wilt thou be satisfied a part
All earthy and of earth to play?
Is this domestic, social range
Of sympathies and hopes and fears,
For all past joys a full exchange,—
A portion for all future years?
Of sympathies and hopes and fears,
For all past joys a full exchange,—
A portion for all future years?
Ah! no:—though earth around look bright,
Thy soul must yearn and struggle still
For calmer peace, for purer light,
For perfect rest of thought and will.
Thy soul must yearn and struggle still
For calmer peace, for purer light,
For perfect rest of thought and will.
And many a dream must still be thine
Of better, brighter worlds to come;—
Of some fair land where love divine
Gladdens the soul's eternal home.
Of better, brighter worlds to come;—
Of some fair land where love divine
Gladdens the soul's eternal home.
And one thou hast—himself, like thee,
A pilgrim towards that peaceful land,—
Who shall thy true companion be,
And with thee seek it hand in hand;
A pilgrim towards that peaceful land,—
Who shall thy true companion be,
And with thee seek it hand in hand;
338
With thee the hidden depths explore
Of Heaven's unfathom'd love and light;
With thee from Time's receding shore
Launch forth into the infinite;
Of Heaven's unfathom'd love and light;
With thee from Time's receding shore
Launch forth into the infinite;
With thee, in lowliness of heart,
Fix a devout, enquiring eye
On mysteries which we know in part,
And which in part we prophesy;
Fix a devout, enquiring eye
On mysteries which we know in part,
And which in part we prophesy;
Till what was but in part be past,
And what is perfect, fully known,
And faith transformed to sight at last,
And Heaven's deep secrets all our own.
And what is perfect, fully known,
And faith transformed to sight at last,
And Heaven's deep secrets all our own.
| Poems | |