The Poetical Works of Laman Blanchard With a Memoir by Blanchard Jerrold |
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THE ELOQUENT PASTOR DEAD.
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| II. |
 | The Poetical Works of Laman Blanchard |  |
225
THE ELOQUENT PASTOR DEAD.
Lament not for the vanished! Earth to him
Is now a faltering star, far off and dim,
And Life a spectre, volatile and grim.
Is now a faltering star, far off and dim,
And Life a spectre, volatile and grim.
Weep not, ye mourners, for the great one lost!
Rich sunshine lies beyond this night of frost—
Our troubles are not worth the tears they cost.
Rich sunshine lies beyond this night of frost—
Our troubles are not worth the tears they cost.
Give forth the song of love, the steadfast vow—
No tear! for Death and he are parted now,
And life sits throned on his conscious brow.
No tear! for Death and he are parted now,
And life sits throned on his conscious brow.
Oh, mourn not! Yet remember what has been—
How buoyantly he trod this troubled scene,
The pathways of his spirit always green!
How buoyantly he trod this troubled scene,
The pathways of his spirit always green!
He taught the cheerfulness that still is ours,
The sweetness that still lurks in human powers;
If Heaven be full of stars, the earth has flowers!
The sweetness that still lurks in human powers;
If Heaven be full of stars, the earth has flowers!
His was the searching thought, the glowing mind;
The gentle will to others' soon resigned;
But more than all, the feeling just and kind.
The gentle will to others' soon resigned;
But more than all, the feeling just and kind.
226
His pleasures were as melodies from reeds—
Sweet books, deep music, and unselfish deeds,
Finding immortal flowers in human weeds.
Sweet books, deep music, and unselfish deeds,
Finding immortal flowers in human weeds.
His soul was a vast sea, wide, clear, serene,
Deep in whose breast the mirror'd Heaven was seen,
Yet picturing Earth, and all her valleys green.
Deep in whose breast the mirror'd Heaven was seen,
Yet picturing Earth, and all her valleys green.
Fancy was his, and learning, and fine sense:
Were these the secret of his power intense?
No; it was Love that gave him eloquence.
Were these the secret of his power intense?
No; it was Love that gave him eloquence.
Sweet were his words; the lark's song high above
They rivalled now, and now the forest-dove;
The various tones had one inspirer—Love!
They rivalled now, and now the forest-dove;
The various tones had one inspirer—Love!
His brow illumined with the sage's fire,
His voice, out-ringing like a poet's lyre—
The aged heard a friend, the child a sire.
His voice, out-ringing like a poet's lyre—
The aged heard a friend, the child a sire.
True to his kind, nor of himself afraid,
He deemed that love of God was best arrayed
In love of all the things that God has made.
He deemed that love of God was best arrayed
In love of all the things that God has made.
He deemed Man's life no feverish dream of care,
But a high pathway into freer air
Lit up with golden hopes and duties fair.
But a high pathway into freer air
Lit up with golden hopes and duties fair.
He showed how Wisdom turns its hours to years,
Feeding the heart on joys instead of fears,
And worships God in smiles, and not in tears.
Feeding the heart on joys instead of fears,
And worships God in smiles, and not in tears.
227
His thoughts were as a pyramid up-piled,
On whose far top an angel stood and smiled—
Yet, in his heart, was he a simple child.
On whose far top an angel stood and smiled—
Yet, in his heart, was he a simple child.
1843.
| The Poetical Works of Laman Blanchard | |