 | Nacoochee ; or, the beautiful star, with other Poems |  |
43
HOLY LOVE.
“That light whose smile kindles the universe.”
Adonais.
Adonais.
There is joy in such love beyond all that is known,
When it comes like the first song that infancy hears,
When its young heart receives, for the first time, the tone
That it gives back again with an echo of tears.
For the miner that takes from the cold earth the stone
That he wears on his breast as it came from the sod,
Is too poor for the purchase of love only known
Unto God, unto God.
When it comes like the first song that infancy hears,
When its young heart receives, for the first time, the tone
That it gives back again with an echo of tears.
For the miner that takes from the cold earth the stone
That he wears on his breast as it came from the sod,
Is too poor for the purchase of love only known
Unto God, unto God.
As the Indian that leaves in the pride of his chase
Every footprint that turns in the mire to stone,
That shall last when the type shall depart from the place,
And the children that knew him forever unknown;
As the nations may pass from the green earth away,
Though the footprints shall wear deeper still in the sod—
So the soul undefiled shall ascend on its way
Unto God, unto God.
Every footprint that turns in the mire to stone,
That shall last when the type shall depart from the place,
And the children that knew him forever unknown;
As the nations may pass from the green earth away,
Though the footprints shall wear deeper still in the sod—
So the soul undefiled shall ascend on its way
Unto God, unto God.
It is love like the music that comes from the stream,
When the waves are the tones that the shoals make beneath,
If the heart meet with clouds, when the sunshine shall gleam,
Then the love that it yields will be stronger than death!
There is joy in such love beyond all that is known,
When the soul in its purity makes its abode
In the heart that it loves, while it yields up its own
Unto God, unto God.
When the waves are the tones that the shoals make beneath,
If the heart meet with clouds, when the sunshine shall gleam,
44
There is joy in such love beyond all that is known,
When the soul in its purity makes its abode
In the heart that it loves, while it yields up its own
Unto God, unto God.
It is love like the moan, when the winter is nigh,
Of the cavern whose dungeon no mortal can know,
Till the tempest shall come on its cold lips to sigh,
And the mouth of its chaos breathe accents of wo!
It is thus with the heart when it sighs all alone
For the loved one that filled up its sunless abode,
For the loss of that love it must give out its own
Unto God, unto God.
Of the cavern whose dungeon no mortal can know,
Till the tempest shall come on its cold lips to sigh,
And the mouth of its chaos breathe accents of wo!
It is thus with the heart when it sighs all alone
For the loved one that filled up its sunless abode,
For the loss of that love it must give out its own
Unto God, unto God.
It is love undefiled, that, from selfishness, seeks
A new language its own ocean depths to express,
And will covet each thought that it wilfully speaks,
Though, if lavished by others, were useless excess.
It is love that forgets every love but its own,
And, in loving, would seek some diviner abode,
Where its fulness, by rising, might flow on alone
Unto God, unto God.
A new language its own ocean depths to express,
And will covet each thought that it wilfully speaks,
Though, if lavished by others, were useless excess.
It is love that forgets every love but its own,
And, in loving, would seek some diviner abode,
Where its fulness, by rising, might flow on alone
Unto God, unto God.
It is love that can live in the cold breath of scorn,
If the loved one will only be gay with the gay—
For the cloud that shall come on the light of its morn,
Is the one that reflects but the heaven of day.
It is love that will pant like the hart for the brook,
When pursued by the hounds from its native abode,
And though driven afar on the cold world, will look
Unto God, unto God.
If the loved one will only be gay with the gay—
For the cloud that shall come on the light of its morn,
Is the one that reflects but the heaven of day.
It is love that will pant like the hart for the brook,
When pursued by the hounds from its native abode,
And though driven afar on the cold world, will look
Unto God, unto God.
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It is love that can dwell in the cool shady bower,
Where the loved one was seen in the days of his youth;
And commune with delight on the thoughts of that hour,
When the lips of his soul spoke the music of truth.
It is love that can weep at the sound of the tone
Like the one that was heard when the heart overflowed,
When the prayers that were offered were lifted alone
Unto God, unto God.
Where the loved one was seen in the days of his youth;
And commune with delight on the thoughts of that hour,
When the lips of his soul spoke the music of truth.
It is love that can weep at the sound of the tone
Like the one that was heard when the heart overflowed,
When the prayers that were offered were lifted alone
Unto God, unto God.
If the turtle should wander away from her nest,
She may come back again from the isles of the sea;
If the swan should depart from her cold world to rest
In some other bright land where her fellows may be—
She may come back again—but the spirit once flown,
It shall never return to its former abode!
But shall rest, like the Pleiade that wanders alone,
With its God, with its God.
She may come back again from the isles of the sea;
If the swan should depart from her cold world to rest
In some other bright land where her fellows may be—
She may come back again—but the spirit once flown,
It shall never return to its former abode!
But shall rest, like the Pleiade that wanders alone,
With its God, with its God.
| Nacoochee ; or, the beautiful star, with other Poems | |