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 | The poems and sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton |  |
397
In Quest of Light.
Darkness surrounds us.
William Wordsworth.
William Wordsworth.
Once in a dream I saw the flowers
That bud and bloom in Paradise.
Christina Rossetti.
That bud and bloom in Paradise.
Christina Rossetti.
399
AFAR FROM GOD.
Fain would I scale the heights that lead to God,
But my feet stumble and my steps are weak,
Warm are the valleys, and the hills are bleak:
Here, where I linger, flowers make soft the sod,
But those far paths that martyr feet have trod
Are sharp with flints, and from their farthest peak
The still, small voice but faintly seems to speak,
While here the drowsy lilies dream and nod.
But my feet stumble and my steps are weak,
Warm are the valleys, and the hills are bleak:
Here, where I linger, flowers make soft the sod,
But those far paths that martyr feet have trod
Are sharp with flints, and from their farthest peak
The still, small voice but faintly seems to speak,
While here the drowsy lilies dream and nod.
I have dreamed with them, till the night draws nigh
In which I cannot climb: still high above,
In the blue vastness of the awful sky,
Those unscaled heights my fatal weakness prove—
Those shining heights which I must reach, or die
Afar from God, unquickened by His love.
In which I cannot climb: still high above,
In the blue vastness of the awful sky,
Those unscaled heights my fatal weakness prove—
Those shining heights which I must reach, or die
Afar from God, unquickened by His love.
400
MY FATHER'S HOUSE.
When shall I join the blessed company
Of those this barren world to me denies?
When shall I wake to the new day's surprise,
Beyond the murmur of death's moaning sea,
In that glad home where my best loved ones be;
And know that I have found my Paradise,
Finding again the love that never dies
The heart's dear welcome, biding there for me?
Of those this barren world to me denies?
When shall I wake to the new day's surprise,
Beyond the murmur of death's moaning sea,
In that glad home where my best loved ones be;
And know that I have found my Paradise,
Finding again the love that never dies
The heart's dear welcome, biding there for me?
I wait alone upon life's wind-swept beach—
The waves are high—the sea is wild and wide—
Yet Death, bold pilot, all their wrath shall dare,
And guide me to the shore I fain would reach:—
Even now I hear the swift, incoming tide,
Whose slow, eternal ebb my bark shall bear.
The waves are high—the sea is wild and wide—
Yet Death, bold pilot, all their wrath shall dare,
And guide me to the shore I fain would reach:—
Even now I hear the swift, incoming tide,
Whose slow, eternal ebb my bark shall bear.
401
NEWLY BORN.
Out of the dark into the arms of love
The babe is born, and recks not of the way
His soul has traversed to confront the day:
Enough for him the face that smiles above,
The tireless feet that on his errands move,
The arms that clasp, the tender lips that kiss,
The whole dear wealth of welcome and of bliss
His heirship and his sovereignty that prove.
The babe is born, and recks not of the way
His soul has traversed to confront the day:
Enough for him the face that smiles above,
The tireless feet that on his errands move,
The arms that clasp, the tender lips that kiss,
The whole dear wealth of welcome and of bliss
His heirship and his sovereignty that prove.
So may there be no place for Earth's vain tears
When Heaven's great rapture bursts upon the sight:—
Shall not the soul, new-born in heavenly spheres,
Forget the paths it traversed, and the night
It journeyed through, and all old hopes and fears,
Caught up into that Infinite, Great Light?
When Heaven's great rapture bursts upon the sight:—
Shall not the soul, new-born in heavenly spheres,
Forget the paths it traversed, and the night
It journeyed through, and all old hopes and fears,
Caught up into that Infinite, Great Light?
402
THE SONG OF THE STARS.
In those high heavens wherein the fair stars flower,
They do God's praises sound from night till morn,
And till the smiling day is newly born
Chant each to each His glory and His power;
Then, silent, wait, through Day's brief triumph-hour,
Watching till Night shall come again, with scorn
Of those chameleon splendors that adorn
Day's death, and then before his victor cower.
They do God's praises sound from night till morn,
And till the smiling day is newly born
Chant each to each His glory and His power;
Then, silent, wait, through Day's brief triumph-hour,
Watching till Night shall come again, with scorn
Of those chameleon splendors that adorn
Day's death, and then before his victor cower.
Forever, to immortal ears, they sing,—
These shining stars that praise their Maker's grace—
And from far world to world their anthems ring:
They shine and sing because they see His face
We, cowards, dread the vision Death shall bring,
The waking rapture, and the fair, far place.
These shining stars that praise their Maker's grace—
And from far world to world their anthems ring:
They shine and sing because they see His face
We, cowards, dread the vision Death shall bring,
The waking rapture, and the fair, far place.
403
A QUESTION: AT SEA.
How dark the clouds that hide the sky from sight,
While winds like human souls moan round our keel,
Their woe inexplicable to reveal—
With lone, unsilenced cries for lost delight,
That suns by day, or journeying moons by night
Can find no more, till the vast heavens reel
And the strong worlds are rent by that last peal,
The trumpet-blast that puts old Time to flight.
While winds like human souls moan round our keel,
Their woe inexplicable to reveal—
With lone, unsilenced cries for lost delight,
That suns by day, or journeying moons by night
Can find no more, till the vast heavens reel
And the strong worlds are rent by that last peal,
The trumpet-blast that puts old Time to flight.
Then, when the End has come, and Chaos reigns,
And darkness mocks past glories of the sun,
Will human hearts forget their human pains
In some unearthly blessedness, new-won?
Shall we outlast this brief earth's transient gains,
And know ourselves the one thing not undone?
And darkness mocks past glories of the sun,
Will human hearts forget their human pains
In some unearthly blessedness, new-won?
Shall we outlast this brief earth's transient gains,
And know ourselves the one thing not undone?
404
THE LAND OF GOLD.
Behind the sunset's bars in the wide West,
We catch the radiance of the Land of Gold;
The dazzling splendors of its wealth untold
Flash through our dreams, and wake to vague unrest
The soul—with Life's dull weariness opprest,
Or wrapped in weeds of sorrow, fold on fold—
Till, with sheer longing and despair grown bold,
We turn to seek that Land where all are blest.
We catch the radiance of the Land of Gold;
The dazzling splendors of its wealth untold
Flash through our dreams, and wake to vague unrest
The soul—with Life's dull weariness opprest,
Or wrapped in weeds of sorrow, fold on fold—
Till, with sheer longing and despair grown bold,
We turn to seek that Land where all are blest.
But the Gold fades, and the strong stars arise
That look beyond the sunset and the sun;
They see our little world swing far below,
While over it imperial planets glow—
From Heaven they whisper, “Heaven cannot be won
Until great Death has come to make men wise.”
That look beyond the sunset and the sun;
They see our little world swing far below,
While over it imperial planets glow—
From Heaven they whisper, “Heaven cannot be won
Until great Death has come to make men wise.”
405
A PRAYER IN THE DARK.
I stretch my hand out through the lonesome night,
My helpless hand, and pray Thee, Lord, to lead
My ignorant steps, and help me at my need:
Far off from home, pity my hapless plight,
And through the darkness guide me on to light!
I have no hope unless my cry Thou heed,—
Be merciful; for I am lost, indeed,
Unless thy rising sun the darkness smite.
My helpless hand, and pray Thee, Lord, to lead
My ignorant steps, and help me at my need:
Far off from home, pity my hapless plight,
And through the darkness guide me on to light!
I have no hope unless my cry Thou heed,—
Be merciful; for I am lost, indeed,
Unless thy rising sun the darkness smite.
How shall I find, who know not how to seek?
Kindle my soul, enlighten my dull mind;
My heart is heavy, and my faith is weak,—
A stone am I, and deaf and dumb and blind,—
Unhelped of Thee my footsteps helpless stray,—
Have pity, Thou, and lead me to the Day!
Kindle my soul, enlighten my dull mind;
My heart is heavy, and my faith is weak,—
A stone am I, and deaf and dumb and blind,—
Unhelped of Thee my footsteps helpless stray,—
Have pity, Thou, and lead me to the Day!
| The poems and sonnets of Louise Chandler Moulton | |