Ballads for the Times (Now first collected,) Geraldine, A Modern Pyramid, Bartenus, A Thousand Lines, and other poems. By Martin F. Tupper. A new Edition, enlarged and revised |
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Self-Possession.
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 | Ballads for the Times |  |
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Self-Possession.
A Ballad for a Man's Own Inner World.
Whirling, eddying, ebbing Present,
Foamy tide of strife and noise,
Mingled-bitter, mingled-pleasant,
Loves and worries, cares and joys,—
O ye changing chancing surges!
Calmly doth my Mind forecast
How your restless spirit merges
In the Future and the Past!
Foamy tide of strife and noise,
Mingled-bitter, mingled-pleasant,
Loves and worries, cares and joys,—
O ye changing chancing surges!
Calmly doth my Mind forecast
How your restless spirit merges
In the Future and the Past!
Lo, I stand your master-pilot;
Though the cataracts be near,
Safe I swing round rock or islet,
Strong, and still, and godlike Here!
Stout I stand, and sway the tiller
Through these rapids glancing down,
While the very flood flows stiller,
Frozen by my monarch-frown!
Though the cataracts be near,
Safe I swing round rock or islet,
Strong, and still, and godlike Here!
Stout I stand, and sway the tiller
Through these rapids glancing down,
While the very flood flows stiller,
Frozen by my monarch-frown!
O'er the rock-entangled shallows
Staunch I steer, adown the stream;
And the Past the Present hallows
With its melancholy dream,—
And the Future, nearing surely
Like Niagara's cliff ahead
Steadily I reach, securely
As a child that feels no dread!
Staunch I steer, adown the stream;
And the Past the Present hallows
With its melancholy dream,—
And the Future, nearing surely
Like Niagara's cliff ahead
Steadily I reach, securely
As a child that feels no dread!
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Yea, though Earth be torn asunder,—
Or the secret heart be vext,—
Though with elemental thunder
Or by petty cares perplext,
Still I stand, and rule the riot;
Still my deep calm soul is blest
With its own imperial quiet,
The sublimity of Rest!
Or the secret heart be vext,—
Though with elemental thunder
Or by petty cares perplext,
Still I stand, and rule the riot;
Still my deep calm soul is blest
With its own imperial quiet,
The sublimity of Rest!
For, a staunch and stalwarth true man,
Fearing God, and none beside,—
Nothing more, nor less, than human,
Nothing human can betide
That may disenthrone a spirit
Doom'd to reign in Time's decay,
Grandly fated to inherit
Endless peace in endless Day!
Fearing God, and none beside,—
Nothing more, nor less, than human,
Nothing human can betide
That may disenthrone a spirit
Doom'd to reign in Time's decay,
Grandly fated to inherit
Endless peace in endless Day!
| Ballads for the Times | |