 | Love-Lore (1895) |  |
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THE GODDESS OF POVERTY
Gold-sanded paths! and verdant heathy ground!
Ravines by the chamois loved!
And ye, grand mountains, constellation-crown'd!
Ye wandering torrents! forest-depths unproved!
Let the Good Goddess pass,
The Goddess of Poverty!
Ravines by the chamois loved!
And ye, grand mountains, constellation-crown'd!
Ye wandering torrents! forest-depths unproved!
Let the Good Goddess pass,
The Goddess of Poverty!
Since the world's life, since men came on the earth,
The world she traverseth;
She dwelleth among men, she poureth forth
Her travel-song, or singing laboureth:
The Goddess of Poverty.
The world she traverseth;
She dwelleth among men, she poureth forth
Her travel-song, or singing laboureth:
The Goddess of Poverty.
Some, met to crush her, found her far too fair,
Too agile, strong, and gay;
“Tear off her wings, enchain her, let her bear
“Blows that shall crush her, till she die away,—
The Goddess of Poverty.”
Too agile, strong, and gay;
“Tear off her wings, enchain her, let her bear
“Blows that shall crush her, till she die away,—
The Goddess of Poverty.”
They persecuted her, they beat and chain'd,—
But never could debase;
The poet's, peasant's, artist's soul remain'd,—
The saint's, the martyr's soul, thy refuge-place:
Goddess of Poverty!
But never could debase;
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The saint's, the martyr's soul, thy refuge-place:
Goddess of Poverty!
More hath she wander'd than the Wandering Jew,
Than the swallow voyagèd;
Older than Prague's cathedral, yet more new
Than the egg o' the wren, more o'er the wide earth spread
Than strawberries on the Boehmer-Wald is she,—
The Goddess of Poverty.
Than the swallow voyagèd;
Older than Prague's cathedral, yet more new
Than the egg o' the wren, more o'er the wide earth spread
Than strawberries on the Boehmer-Wald is she,—
The Goddess of Poverty.
She hath had children many beyond count,
God's secret them hath taught;
She spoke to the heart of Jesus on the Mount,
To the eyes of the Queen Libussa as they sought
The Labourer, to John and Jerome's soul
On Constance' funeral pyre; more than the whole
Of the doctors and the bishops knoweth she:
The Goddess of Poverty.
God's secret them hath taught;
She spoke to the heart of Jesus on the Mount,
To the eyes of the Queen Libussa as they sought
The Labourer, to John and Jerome's soul
On Constance' funeral pyre; more than the whole
Of the doctors and the bishops knoweth she:
The Goddess of Poverty.
The grandest and the fairest things one sees
Upon the earth are hers;
She cultivates the soil, and prunes the trees,
And leads the flocks with music of sweet airs;
The first dawn-peep, the first sun-smile she wears:
The Goddess of Poverty.
Upon the earth are hers;
She cultivates the soil, and prunes the trees,
And leads the flocks with music of sweet airs;
The first dawn-peep, the first sun-smile she wears:
The Goddess of Poverty.
She builds the woodman's hut of the green bough,
And gives the eagle eye
Unto the poacher, rears the young ones high,
And lightens for old hands the spade and plough;
The Goddess of Poverty.
And gives the eagle eye
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And lightens for old hands the spade and plough;
The Goddess of Poverty.
'Tis she inspires the poet; she who renders
The vagabond's flute divine,
And from the Moldau's to the Danube's source
Bears him with light-wing'd force,
Crowning his hair with dew-pearls, making shine
The stars for him with larger, clearer splendours:
The Goddess of Poverty.
The vagabond's flute divine,
And from the Moldau's to the Danube's source
Bears him with light-wing'd force,
Crowning his hair with dew-pearls, making shine
The stars for him with larger, clearer splendours:
The Goddess of Poverty.
She teacheth to the artisan his gear,
To fashion stone and steel;
She makes the thread supple and fine as hair
On the old mother's and the young girl's wheel:
The Goddess of Poverty.
To fashion stone and steel;
She makes the thread supple and fine as hair
On the old mother's and the young girl's wheel:
The Goddess of Poverty.
She holds the thatch'd hut shaken by the storm,
The torch and lamp maintains;
She kneads the household bread, and weaves the warm
And the cool vestments; feeds, and all sustains;
The Goddess of Poverty.
The torch and lamp maintains;
She kneads the household bread, and weaves the warm
And the cool vestments; feeds, and all sustains;
The Goddess of Poverty.
She built great castles and cathedrals old;
She bears both sword and gun,
Makes war and conquest, gathers death's wide fold,
Cares for the wounded, hides the vanquish'd one:
The Goddess of Poverty.
She bears both sword and gun,
Makes war and conquest, gathers death's wide fold,
Cares for the wounded, hides the vanquish'd one:
The Goddess of Poverty.
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Thou art all mildness, patience, power to cope,
And pitying heart is thine;
Giving them charity and faith and hope,
Thou link'st thy children with a love divine:
Goddess of Poverty!
And pitying heart is thine;
Giving them charity and faith and hope,
Thou link'st thy children with a love divine:
Goddess of Poverty!
Their shoulders yet shall rest from the world-load,
Their labour-pain made worth;
Nor rich nor poor be in the coming times,
When all men shall possess the fruits of earth
And equally enjoy the gifts of God.
Thou wilt not be forgotten in their hymns,
Goddess of Poverty!
Their labour-pain made worth;
Nor rich nor poor be in the coming times,
When all men shall possess the fruits of earth
And equally enjoy the gifts of God.
Thou wilt not be forgotten in their hymns,
Goddess of Poverty!
Their mother and their nurse robust thou wast,
And their church-militant:
They will pour balm upon thy wounds and haste
That the fresh balmy earth may rest thy want:
Goddess of Poverty!
And their church-militant:
They will pour balm upon thy wounds and haste
That the fresh balmy earth may rest thy want:
Goddess of Poverty!
Ere the Day o' the Lord shall come, torrents and woods!
Ye mountains and ye vales!
Heaths with your bird and flower multitudes!
Gold-sanded paths o'er which no king prevails!
Let the Good Goddess pass,
The Goddess of Poverty!
Ye mountains and ye vales!
Heaths with your bird and flower multitudes!
Gold-sanded paths o'er which no king prevails!
Let the Good Goddess pass,
The Goddess of Poverty!
| Love-Lore (1895) | |