Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems By the Lady E. Stuart Wortley. In Three Vols |
 | I, II, III. |
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HUMAN JUDGMENTS. |
 | Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems |  |
417
HUMAN JUDGMENTS.
There are bright stars on the midnight,
That all softly, softly shine;
There are crystal dews in morning's paths
Like the pearl-hoards of the brine!
That all softly, softly shine;
There are crystal dews in morning's paths
Like the pearl-hoards of the brine!
Those stars of midnight's stillness,
They are mighty worlds and vast;
And these dews of morning's fresh, fair hour
May not bide the awakening blast!
They are mighty worlds and vast;
And these dews of morning's fresh, fair hour
May not bide the awakening blast!
Aye! those stars are worlds majestic!—
But those dews—faint fleeting things!—
Breeze-touched or sun-kissed, how they pass—
With sudden vanishings.—
But those dews—faint fleeting things!—
Breeze-touched or sun-kissed, how they pass—
With sudden vanishings.—
418
Yet, behold! they sparkle brightly—
And but little difference seems,
Between those worlds and dew-drops frail,
Each far scattering trembling gleams!—
And but little difference seems,
Between those worlds and dew-drops frail,
Each far scattering trembling gleams!—
Still our senses much deceive us!—
And Creation's mightiest scenes
Could never be to us made clear,
Save through more exalted means!—
And Creation's mightiest scenes
Could never be to us made clear,
Save through more exalted means!—
And, oh! frail—weak—vain—imperfect,
Are our knowledge too—and power:
Perchance we make more wild mistakes
In our life's brief troubled hour.
Are our knowledge too—and power:
Perchance we make more wild mistakes
In our life's brief troubled hour.
And though we render homage
To those worlds that blaze afar!
And call the dew-drop slight and frail,
And hail the immortal star—
To those worlds that blaze afar!
And call the dew-drop slight and frail,
And hail the immortal star—
419
We may yet not mark the difference
Between things more severed still—
But deem one self-same source they have,
And one self-same part fulfil!
Between things more severed still—
But deem one self-same source they have,
And one self-same part fulfil!
Many mysteries of deception
Are around us evermore:
There are things more glorious than those worlds
By us passed lightly o'er!
Are around us evermore:
There are things more glorious than those worlds
By us passed lightly o'er!
There are things more vain and fleeting
Than light dews, of briefest date,
Which to us seem—oh! more precious still,
Than those glorious things and great!
Than light dews, of briefest date,
Which to us seem—oh! more precious still,
Than those glorious things and great!
E'en revealed at once and hidden—
Many wonders sure must be;
We view them—yet we view them not
As we aright should see!—
Many wonders sure must be;
We view them—yet we view them not
As we aright should see!—
420
While between us depths of distance,
Of which we may little reck,
Now may darkly spread, outstretched, immense.
And all free communion check—
Of which we may little reck,
Now may darkly spread, outstretched, immense.
And all free communion check—
While we deem that close beside us,
Close at hand those wonders are!—
Nor rack our thought to judge of them
As unutterably far!
Close at hand those wonders are!—
Nor rack our thought to judge of them
As unutterably far!
Still we see them vaguely—faintly—
Yet we deem we see aright,
And with rash presumptuous fancy—fix
Their limits by our sight.
Yet we deem we see aright,
And with rash presumptuous fancy—fix
Their limits by our sight.
And we own not, with faith's meekness—
These are throned above—too far.
Oh! the Soul oft sees Earth's dew-drops brief,
Bright as Heaven's undying Star!
These are throned above—too far.
Oh! the Soul oft sees Earth's dew-drops brief,
Bright as Heaven's undying Star!
| Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems | |