 | The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury |  |
STANZAS.
Aye, rear thine altar to Ideal Love,
And heap with costliest sacrifice the shrine;
The fairest chaplet fancy ever wove
From thought's most precious jewels, there should shine.
And heap with costliest sacrifice the shrine;
The fairest chaplet fancy ever wove
From thought's most precious jewels, there should shine.
Aye, rear thine altar high, and on it lay
All that thy nature has of highest, best;
Bid thy mind coin new wealth there day by day,
And in thy lavish offering be thou blest.
All that thy nature has of highest, best;
Bid thy mind coin new wealth there day by day,
And in thy lavish offering be thou blest.
But write no name upon the altar-stone,
Shape out no image of thy soul's bright dreams,
Adore the unseen spirit-god alone,
Nor crown a mortal brow with heaven's own beams.
Shape out no image of thy soul's bright dreams,
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Nor crown a mortal brow with heaven's own beams.
The fantasies that thrill thine every vein,
The pearls that melt in passion's burning cup,
Youth's many-colored dreams, half joy, half pain,
Its vows so true, so lightly offered up,—
The pearls that melt in passion's burning cup,
Youth's many-colored dreams, half joy, half pain,
Its vows so true, so lightly offered up,—
O mingle not these sweets of daily life
With the rich gifts thy soul's ideal claims!
Thy human nature has its woes and strife,
Its strong requirements and its cherished aims.
With the rich gifts thy soul's ideal claims!
Thy human nature has its woes and strife,
Its strong requirements and its cherished aims.
The love that from an earthly fountain springs
Alone can satisfy that human quest;
The bird that highest soars, on strongest wings,
Yet stoops to earth to find a quiet nest.
Alone can satisfy that human quest;
The bird that highest soars, on strongest wings,
Yet stoops to earth to find a quiet nest.
But recognize thy yearnings, vague and vain,
As dim remembrances of that bright world
Whence thou wert missioned on some task of pain,
Or haply for a parent's errors hurled.
As dim remembrances of that bright world
Whence thou wert missioned on some task of pain,
Or haply for a parent's errors hurled.
Till God has loosed thy being's weary bond,
That angel light will flash o'er heart and brain,
Filling thy soul with aspirations fond
And winning thee to thy lost heaven again.
That angel light will flash o'er heart and brain,
Filling thy soul with aspirations fond
And winning thee to thy lost heaven again.
| The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury | |