University of Virginia Library

TRUTH AND FANCY.

Passion and Passion's fiery light
May sink and set long, long ere Night,
And Hope's bright smile, and Fancy's ray
Forget their sweet and restless play,
But yet enough on Earth remains
Still to endear Life's mortal chains.
For shadows gently seem unfurled
Ev'n of a higher, better World—
Loves, Charities, Humanities,
All that Man's natural heart should prize,
And chastened hopes and tempered fears,
The experience and the truth of years,
These may be ours, and it is good
To share these, and a tutored mood.
The vision and the dream are o'er,
The dear illusion comes no more,
But calm realities there are,
Worthy of all our trust and care.
The golden mists have cleared away,
But shines no golden light in Day?
The dews are kissed from leaf and flower,
But hath the Sun no sparkling power?
Whatever Fancy may have been,
Howe'er she lit this mundane scene,
Truth hath yet mightier gifts in store,
A richer and more varied lore.
Oh! never heed what they may say,
Who vaunt Imagination's ray
Above the Sun of Truth's full light—
A more than Giant in its might!
This world is full of precious things,
And every day some new gift brings,
If we but keep a watchful eye
On the infinite variety!
Still opening out before our view
Are endless wonders strange and new—
Fancy's sweet world is glad and fair,
And many a rich delight is there,
But Oh! Reality's is still
The work of more consummate skill,
Th'impress of a diviner hand
Doth admiration there command.
Our fairy-phantasies we form
Life-like and lovely, fair and warm,
And beautiful they are and bright,
And full of harmony and light,
But weak and worthless they appear,
The works of Heavenly wisdom near!
When we are tired of that which charmed
Our youthful bosoms (waked and warmed
By every tint and every touch
Ofttimes too deeply and too much—
That winged Imagination's power
Bestoweth in her rainbow-hour)
And turn from these delights away
To look upon Life's common day!
When we (the while we grieve and mourn)
To Truth's deep World eternal turn—
Then with soothed heart and gladdened mind,
How oft do we astonished find
A new World brightening more and more,
Of which we ne'er had dreamt before,
And kindling out before our gaze,
To fill with transport and amaze!
Things actual, true, and certain seem,
To shame our poor and fragile Dream!
The Truth doth Fiction still surpass,
As the object the reflecting glass—
The substance the faint shadow cast
Behind it—and it is surpassed!
Oh! in this world the True the Real
Are things that far outstrip th' Ideal!
The chain we snap, the spell we break,
And thousand sweet discoveries make;
Things that till then unmarked have been,
Things we have noted not—scarce seen,
Take then fresh shapes unto our eyes,
And strike with kindlings of surprise.
Imagination, like the Moon,
But boasts of light, a lavished boon,
She borroweth ever, nor doth know
The source from whence her riches flow.
Truth, like the Sun, immortal shines—
Within himself, those golden mines
That make all wealth, all pomp, all light—
For ever excellently bright!
Oh! but this World—the vast, the wide,
At every point, on every side,
Beneath, around, apart, above—
Is full of loveliness and love!
It is a world of precious things,
Where future Powers may plume their wings,
And teach themselves indeed to be
Worthy of Immortality!—
Where future Angels well may learn
With Heavenly zeal of love to burn!
And yet the more we mark and know,
The more we find, above, below—
Perfection—boundless and sublime—
Even in this World of Death and Time.
Oh! let us walk with watchful eyes,
Nor slacken our quick energies,
If we would half the wonders learn,
And half the splendid truths discern,
That everywhere indeed abound
Our faultering mortal steps around.