University of Virginia Library

THREE SONNETS.

THE DISTANT RANGE.

They beckon from their sunset domes afar,
Light's royal priesthood, the eternal hills:
Though born of earth, robed of the sky they are;
And the anointing radiance heaven distils
On their high brows, the air with glory fills.
The portals of the west are opened wide;
And lifted up, absolved from earthly ills,
All thoughts, a reverent throng, to worship glide.
The hills interpret heavenly mysteries,
The mysteries of Light—an open book
Of Revelation: see, its leaves unfold
With crimson borderings, and lines of gold,
Where the rapt reader, though soul-deep his look,
Dreams of a glory deeper than he sees!

THE PRESENCE.

The mountain statelier lifts his blue-veiled head,
While, drawing near, we meet him face to face.
Here, as on holy ground, we softly tread;
Yet, with a tender and paternal grace,
He gives the wild flowers in his lap a place:
They climb his sides, as fondled infants might,
And wind around him, in a light embrace,
Their summer drapery, pink and clinging white.
Great hearts have largest room to bless the small;
Strong natures give the weaker home and rest:
So Christ took little children to his breast,
And, with a reverence more profound, we fall
In the majestic presence that can give
Truth's simplest message: “'T is by love ye live.”

THE FAREWELL.

Now ends the hour's communion, near and high:
We have heard whispers from the mountain's heart,
And life henceforth is nobler. With a sigh
Of grateful sadness, let us now depart,
And seek our lower levels. Rills that start
From this Hill's bosom, there reflect the sky,
And his deep shadows greener grace impart
To the sweet fields which low beneath him lie.
One farewell glance from far. The hills are fled!
Hid in the folds of yon funereal cloud!
A moment leans the Loftiest from his shroud:—
“Our thunders purify the vales,” he saith:
“'T is not alone by smiles that life is fed:
Awe fills the sanctuary of deep faith.”