 | The poetical works of Lucy Larcom |  |
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VERSES FOR OCCASIONS.
OUR ALUMNI.
FOR A MEETING OF THE MONTICELLO SEMINARY ASSOCIATION, ILLINOIS.
Two worlds I live in, East and West:
I cannot tell which world is best;
The friends that people both are dear;
The same glad sun
Shines into each; far-off is near,
And then is now, and there is here;
Both worlds are one.
I cannot tell which world is best;
The friends that people both are dear;
The same glad sun
Shines into each; far-off is near,
And then is now, and there is here;
Both worlds are one.
What have the years to do with youth?
Present and Past unite, in sooth;
Morning and noon in day have met:
Time but unfurls
Life's wings; can we our own forget?
I have not lost my girlhood yet,
Dear Western girls!
Present and Past unite, in sooth;
Morning and noon in day have met:
Time but unfurls
Life's wings; can we our own forget?
I have not lost my girlhood yet,
Dear Western girls!
With you a stately home I share,
Into whose windows the soft air
Comes singing from the wilderness,
Of mighty streams,
Great forests in primeval dress,
And sea-like prairies—a vague guess
Of scents and gleams.
Into whose windows the soft air
Comes singing from the wilderness,
Of mighty streams,
Great forests in primeval dress,
And sea-like prairies—a vague guess
Of scents and gleams.
The whippoorwills are crowding near;
The katydids have paused, to hear
What girls inlocked with girls can say,
Who slowly pace
At dusk the long, tree-cloistered way,
While twilight's flickering touches play
From face to face.
The katydids have paused, to hear
What girls inlocked with girls can say,
Who slowly pace
At dusk the long, tree-cloistered way,
While twilight's flickering touches play
From face to face.
At school-girl-friendship let them smile
Who never felt its charm beguile
The mystery of the untried years;
The thoughts that grow
To Atlas-weight of nameless fears;
The awed foreseeing that endears
Its sharers so!
Who never felt its charm beguile
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The thoughts that grow
To Atlas-weight of nameless fears;
The awed foreseeing that endears
Its sharers so!
How large our world around us spread!
How deep our skies grew overhead!
How close our hearts together drew!
Your golden curls,
Your eyes of hazel and of blue,
I see; I live again with you,
Dear Western girls!
How deep our skies grew overhead!
How close our hearts together drew!
Your golden curls,
Your eyes of hazel and of blue,
I see; I live again with you,
Dear Western girls!
What did we talk of? Everything
That wise men write, or poets sing:
Among the gods we roamed at will:
The Olympian height,—
The solemn boughs of Ygdrasil,—
Epic and rune,—we felt their thrill
With strange delight.
That wise men write, or poets sing:
Among the gods we roamed at will:
The Olympian height,—
The solemn boughs of Ygdrasil,—
Epic and rune,—we felt their thrill
With strange delight.
Victories by Greek or Trojan won;
The wanderings of Anchises' son;
Pericles, Cæsar, Charlemagne;
The Viking bold;
The Saxon's contest with the Dane;
Knights and Crusades: the Norman's reign;
The Cloth of Gold:
The wanderings of Anchises' son;
Pericles, Cæsar, Charlemagne;
The Viking bold;
The Saxon's contest with the Dane;
Knights and Crusades: the Norman's reign;
The Cloth of Gold:
All became real to our thought:
Heroes appeared, and fields were fought
Upon green levels where we gazed,
Nor scarcely knew
If there Admetus' cattle grazed,
Or there the flags of tourney blazed
And trumpets blew.
Heroes appeared, and fields were fought
Upon green levels where we gazed,
Nor scarcely knew
If there Admetus' cattle grazed,
Or there the flags of tourney blazed
And trumpets blew.
And sage and minstrel, gathering round,
Made the wild prairies classic ground:
Blind Homer, Plato, Socrates,
And Sappho came;
Dante's deep murmur on the breeze
Met Milton's mighty symphonies:
The scholar's name
Made the wild prairies classic ground:
Blind Homer, Plato, Socrates,
And Sappho came;
Dante's deep murmur on the breeze
Met Milton's mighty symphonies:
The scholar's name
Sounded from girlish lip to lip,
In every-day companionship:
Bacon, Descartes, Spinoza, Kant;
The mystic word
That mediæval doctors chant,
The scope great Christian thinkers grant,
Our spirits stirred.
In every-day companionship:
Bacon, Descartes, Spinoza, Kant;
The mystic word
That mediæval doctors chant,
The scope great Christian thinkers grant,
Our spirits stirred.
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And gladly always we returned
To lessons in our childhood learned,
Of one Heart that enfolds us all,
To whom we send
Our longings in one human call,
Before whose feet all ages fall—
Father and Friend!
To lessons in our childhood learned,
Of one Heart that enfolds us all,
To whom we send
Our longings in one human call,
Before whose feet all ages fall—
Father and Friend!
Dear friends, dear girls, at school we are,
Now even as then: the farthest star
Whereon hereafter we may meet
To win new lore,
Though radiant with fresh mystery sweet,
Will have some wisdom to repeat,
We learned before;
Now even as then: the farthest star
Whereon hereafter we may meet
To win new lore,
Though radiant with fresh mystery sweet,
Will have some wisdom to repeat,
We learned before;
Learned at our Alma Mater's side:
We cherish with a mutual pride,
Our Monticello's starry name—
Our Mount of Heaven,
Where to look forth on life we came;
Where pure ambitions, noble shame,
To us were given.
We cherish with a mutual pride,
Our Monticello's starry name—
Our Mount of Heaven,
Where to look forth on life we came;
Where pure ambitions, noble shame,
To us were given.
And with young hearts that gather there,
Eager to breathe the awakening air
That sweetened all our springtide way,
We sing again,
As happy friends and sisters may;
Our yesterday and their to-day
One joy remain.
Eager to breathe the awakening air
That sweetened all our springtide way,
We sing again,
As happy friends and sisters may;
Our yesterday and their to-day
One joy remain.
For sheltering care that once we knew;
For faithful guides that led us through
The widening path, the opening door,
Your thanks and mine
Rise gratefully, as oft before:
We gladly lay one offering more
Upon that shrine.
For faithful guides that led us through
The widening path, the opening door,
Your thanks and mine
Rise gratefully, as oft before:
We gladly lay one offering more
Upon that shrine.
I bind my East up with my West,
Nor ask which time or place is best:
In memory's amaranthine sheaf,
Old faiths among,
I twine the buds of new belief,—
Old loves with friendship's opening leaf,—
All fresh and young.
Nor ask which time or place is best:
In memory's amaranthine sheaf,
Old faiths among,
I twine the buds of new belief,—
Old loves with friendship's opening leaf,—
All fresh and young.
I fuse my Present with my Past,
And last is first, and first is last:
The winds that sang across the sea
In childhood's dawn
Have met the Western breezes free,
And in one lift of harmony
They bear me on.
And last is first, and first is last:
The winds that sang across the sea
In childhood's dawn
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And in one lift of harmony
They bear me on.
Dear girls, remembered or unknown,
Across your life and mine has blown
The same wild scent of prairie-flowers;
And while Time's pearls
Shower at our feet, I thank the powers
That made our youth forever ours—
Dear Western girls!
Across your life and mine has blown
The same wild scent of prairie-flowers;
And while Time's pearls
Shower at our feet, I thank the powers
That made our youth forever ours—
Dear Western girls!
AT NORTON AGAIN.
FOR A REUNION AT WHEATON SEMINARY, NORTON, MASS.
We heard your friendly summoning, we heard your call, “Come back!”
And memory rose and hastened down the old familiar track
Among the Norton meadows, where the violets shone through dew,
And the tears of autumn lay like pearls upon the gentian's blue.
And memory rose and hastened down the old familiar track
Among the Norton meadows, where the violets shone through dew,
And the tears of autumn lay like pearls upon the gentian's blue.
We heard the orioles singing in the elm trees' shadowy height,
And the carol of the robin pierced the golden morning light;
And voices sweeter than the birds', and eyes of heavenlier blue
Than the gentian's, or the violet's, around us softly drew.
And the carol of the robin pierced the golden morning light;
And voices sweeter than the birds', and eyes of heavenlier blue
Than the gentian's, or the violet's, around us softly drew.
Oh, we were happier than we guessed; dearer than tongue or pen
Can paint it, was the love that flowed around our pathway then;
A spring unsullied, welling out of girlhood's trustful heart,
That held a teacher's blessing as the love of God a part!
Can paint it, was the love that flowed around our pathway then;
A spring unsullied, welling out of girlhood's trustful heart,
That held a teacher's blessing as the love of God a part!
A flitting footstep in the hall—a low rap at the door—
A white brow leans, a dark eye droops, against our knee once more;
And gentle fancies, such as hide in hearts of dreaming girls,
Float up in music from shy lips beneath a veil of curls.
A white brow leans, a dark eye droops, against our knee once more;
And gentle fancies, such as hide in hearts of dreaming girls,
Float up in music from shy lips beneath a veil of curls.
We pace the cool verandah, with the hand of one in ours
Whose heart unfolds with holy hopes, pure as the breath of flowers
In twilight and in dewfall; the sanctity of truth
Blooms lovelier through the whiteness of a maiden's unsoiled youth.
Whose heart unfolds with holy hopes, pure as the breath of flowers
In twilight and in dewfall; the sanctity of truth
Blooms lovelier through the whiteness of a maiden's unsoiled youth.
We look again:—they are not here; young countenances strange
Smile on us from their places: the bewildering touch of change
Has fallen on every one of us; and those familiar feet,—
On through what unknown avenues move they in passage fleet?
Smile on us from their places: the bewildering touch of change
Has fallen on every one of us; and those familiar feet,—
On through what unknown avenues move they in passage fleet?
Under what trees of Eden do our beloved walk?
What angels bear them company in high and friendly talk?
What wisdom of the immortals do those souls illumed explore,
That need the counsel and the help of our weak hearts no more?
What angels bear them company in high and friendly talk?
What wisdom of the immortals do those souls illumed explore,
That need the counsel and the help of our weak hearts no more?
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Oh, friends, dear eyes you see not shine upon us everywhere;
Faces beam downward, beckoning from balustrade and stair
Behind these other faces, as beautiful to-day
With youth and hope and girlhood's dreams as those long passed away.
Faces beam downward, beckoning from balustrade and stair
Behind these other faces, as beautiful to-day
With youth and hope and girlhood's dreams as those long passed away.
These corridors are echoing with many a well-known name:
Our “Alice”—“Mary”—“Sarah”—alas! are not the same
That answer to the summons now; once through the open door
They heard a call, they answered it, and they return no more.
Our “Alice”—“Mary”—“Sarah”—alas! are not the same
That answer to the summons now; once through the open door
They heard a call, they answered it, and they return no more.
It is in vain; we never can come back to anything;
All joy, all loveliness of earth, is caught upon the wing.
Flown on into the unseen heavens, our birds of Paradise
Sing of the eternal summits to which we must arise.
All joy, all loveliness of earth, is caught upon the wing.
Flown on into the unseen heavens, our birds of Paradise
Sing of the eternal summits to which we must arise.
The pleasant woods remain, the birds, the meadows, and the flowers;
They only lack the sweetness of those well-remembered hours.
From the deep heavens they throb toward us, the hearts for whom we yearn;
And we at last shall go to them who never can return.
They only lack the sweetness of those well-remembered hours.
From the deep heavens they throb toward us, the hearts for whom we yearn;
And we at last shall go to them who never can return.
It may be that they pause to-day upon the golden floor;
It may be that they hither gaze through some celestial door
Along the heavenly stairway, to meet our longing love,
And whisper of reunion sweet in light and life above.
It may be that they hither gaze through some celestial door
Along the heavenly stairway, to meet our longing love,
And whisper of reunion sweet in light and life above.
In God's great school of destiny, there is no going back;
They are become our teachers now; down from the shining track
They reach, to lead us up to heights of wisdom they have won:—
We take their hands we climb the stair; and with them we go on.
They are become our teachers now; down from the shining track
They reach, to lead us up to heights of wisdom they have won:—
We take their hands we climb the stair; and with them we go on.
HYMN.
WRITTEN FOR THE TWO HUNDREDTH ANNIVERSARY OF THE OLD SOUTH CHURCH, BEVERLY, MASS.
The sea sang sweetly to the shore
Two hundred years ago:
To weary pilgrim-ears it bore
A welcome, deep and low.
Two hundred years ago:
To weary pilgrim-ears it bore
A welcome, deep and low.
They gathered, in the autumnal calm,
To their first house of prayer;
And softly rose their Sabbath psalm
On the wild woodland air.
To their first house of prayer;
And softly rose their Sabbath psalm
On the wild woodland air.
The ocean took the echo up;
It rang from tree to tree:
And praise, as from an incense-cup,
Poured over earth and sea.
It rang from tree to tree:
And praise, as from an incense-cup,
Poured over earth and sea.
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They linger yet upon the breeze,
The hymns our fathers sung:
They rustle in the roadside trees,
And give each leaf a tongue.
The hymns our fathers sung:
They rustle in the roadside trees,
And give each leaf a tongue.
The grand old sea is moaning yet
With music's mighty pain:
No chorus has arisen, to fit
Its wondrous anthem-strain.
With music's mighty pain:
No chorus has arisen, to fit
Its wondrous anthem-strain.
When human hearts are tuned to Thine,
Whose voice is in the sea,
Life's murmuring waves a song divine
Shall chant, O God, to Thee!
Whose voice is in the sea,
Life's murmuring waves a song divine
Shall chant, O God, to Thee!
HYMN.
FOR THE SEMI-CENTENNIAL CELEBRATION AT THE FIRST CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH, LOWELL, MASS.
Here, as we came in youth's fresh days,
We come, O God, with fervent praise,
To thank Thee for that summer hour
When here Thy church burst into flower.
We come, O God, with fervent praise,
To thank Thee for that summer hour
When here Thy church burst into flower.
The hymns our happy childhood sung
Are lingering yet on every tongue;
And memory's harp of thousand strings
New sweetness to their echo brings.
Are lingering yet on every tongue;
And memory's harp of thousand strings
New sweetness to their echo brings.
Familiar voices haunt the air:
The lips that bore aloft our prayer
Repeat again the heavenward call;
Their benedictions on us fall.
The lips that bore aloft our prayer
Repeat again the heavenward call;
Their benedictions on us fall.
O God, these lives of ours are blest
Through friends passed on into their rest!
We seek with them Thy homeward way;
We sing one song with them to-day.
Through friends passed on into their rest!
We seek with them Thy homeward way;
We sing one song with them to-day.
The song the morning-stars awoke
When first Thy light through darkness broke
Shall our unending chorus be,—
The song of souls made one in Thee!
When first Thy light through darkness broke
Shall our unending chorus be,—
The song of souls made one in Thee!
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HYMN.
SUNG AT THE TWO HUNDREDTH ANNIVERSARY OF THE OLD SOUTH CHURCH, WASHINGTON STREET, BOSTON, MASS.
Thanks to Thee, O God most high,
For the men, the days gone by!
Thanks for all the fathers wrought;
For their patient toil of thought;
For their faith, which lit the land
With a glory clear and grand;
For the victories that they won
Through the gospel of Thy Son.
For the men, the days gone by!
Thanks for all the fathers wrought;
For their patient toil of thought;
For their faith, which lit the land
With a glory clear and grand;
For the victories that they won
Through the gospel of Thy Son.
Standing where they stood, we turn
Unto Thee, our way to learn.
Let our inward purpose be,
Not to follow them, but Thee!
Heirs of many a harvest field
From their cloudy dawn concealed,
Toiling after them, we share
Thankfully their hope and prayer.
Unto Thee, our way to learn.
Let our inward purpose be,
Not to follow them, but Thee!
Heirs of many a harvest field
From their cloudy dawn concealed,
Toiling after them, we share
Thankfully their hope and prayer.
But the conquests of the Past
Pale before the Future vast:
Brightening on the eastern sky,
Lo, Thy coming draweth nigh!
Deep as inmost thought can sound,
Wide as farthest being's bound,
Earth and heaven Thy praise shall swell.
Present God—Immanuel!
Pale before the Future vast:
Brightening on the eastern sky,
Lo, Thy coming draweth nigh!
Deep as inmost thought can sound,
Wide as farthest being's bound,
Earth and heaven Thy praise shall swell.
Present God—Immanuel!
Builded not by mortal hands,
Evermore Thy temple stands:
Rising glorious from the clod,
Man Thy temple is, O God!
Through him let Thy Spirit flow
Till our world no night shall know,
And the heights and depths shall ring
With the name of Christ, our King!
Evermore Thy temple stands:
Rising glorious from the clod,
Man Thy temple is, O God!
Through him let Thy Spirit flow
Till our world no night shall know,
And the heights and depths shall ring
With the name of Christ, our King!
GARFIELD'S BURIAL-DAY.
We mourn with you, dear country, our leader and our friend;
We join the long procession, we mourn as we ascend! ...
And heartbeats tolled through silence—a muffled funeral sound—
As up the shadowy hillside that solemn day we wound.
We join the long procession, we mourn as we ascend! ...
And heartbeats tolled through silence—a muffled funeral sound—
As up the shadowy hillside that solemn day we wound.
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We left warm earth behind us, the valley and the vine;
We passed through spectral forests, dim ghosts of fir and pine;
Out of gray desolation that chilled the blood like death,
We entered clearer azure, we breathed a purer breath.
We passed through spectral forests, dim ghosts of fir and pine;
Out of gray desolation that chilled the blood like death,
We entered clearer azure, we breathed a purer breath.
The great New England mountains, the tallest of their clan,
Stood purple-robed around us; the presence of a man—
The man we mourned—loomed vaster than any loftiest peak
Uprising from the lowlands unclouded light to seek.
Stood purple-robed around us; the presence of a man—
The man we mourned—loomed vaster than any loftiest peak
Uprising from the lowlands unclouded light to seek.
Yet see, where far above us, a life escaped its shroud,
Yon pale, scarred summit rises out of a sunset-cloud
Woven of snow and crimson! and proudly, lightly now
The new moon hangs her crescent on that transfigured brow!
Yon pale, scarred summit rises out of a sunset-cloud
Woven of snow and crimson! and proudly, lightly now
The new moon hangs her crescent on that transfigured brow!
Our martyr, crowned with honor, we saw uplifted stand,
His monument his manhood, the glory of the land.
Are not great men as mountains, that in themselves aspire
From their own baser levels toward heaven's baptismal fire?
His monument his manhood, the glory of the land.
Are not great men as mountains, that in themselves aspire
From their own baser levels toward heaven's baptismal fire?
“Men should be more than mountains in grandeur—and they are!”
We said, as gazing downward around us, near and far,
We saw a world of summits touched with that sunset flame,
And greeted, high among them, the peak that bears his name.
We said, as gazing downward around us, near and far,
We saw a world of summits touched with that sunset flame,
And greeted, high among them, the peak that bears his name.
Night, beautiful with visions, folded the hills around;
We slept and woke. What splendor streams through the blue profound?
What hero spirit beckons from unknown heights afar,
More glorious than Orion, bright as the morning star?
We slept and woke. What splendor streams through the blue profound?
What hero spirit beckons from unknown heights afar,
More glorious than Orion, bright as the morning star?
We cried, “Look up, dear country! ah, lift thee, widowed brow!
As he has borne the earthly, he wears the heavenly now!
The cruel blow that pierced him has raised him to the sky;
Behold the starry manhood that lives, and cannot die!”
As he has borne the earthly, he wears the heavenly now!
The cruel blow that pierced him has raised him to the sky;
Behold the starry manhood that lives, and cannot die!”
Ascending Mount Washington, N. H., September 26, 1881.
TWO FESTIVALS.
WRITTEN FOR THE BOSTON TRAVELLER, CHRISTMAS, 1881.
Thanksgiving stirs her ruddy fire;
The glow illuminates November:
She sees new glimmerings of desire
Flash up from every fading ember.
The corn is stored, and heaped the board;
The matron Day, her comforts summing,
Hears, through her best, a better word,—
The merry shout of “Christmas coming!”
The glow illuminates November:
She sees new glimmerings of desire
Flash up from every fading ember.
The corn is stored, and heaped the board;
The matron Day, her comforts summing,
Hears, through her best, a better word,—
The merry shout of “Christmas coming!”
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The fires of two home-festivals
Light up the frosty air together;
Thanksgiving unto Christmas calls,
“Shake hands across this keen cold weather!
We both are here to bring good cheer;
Each has a heart-glow for the other;
The chill of our New England year
Welcomes your warmth, my Old-World brother.
Light up the frosty air together;
Thanksgiving unto Christmas calls,
“Shake hands across this keen cold weather!
We both are here to bring good cheer;
Each has a heart-glow for the other;
The chill of our New England year
Welcomes your warmth, my Old-World brother.
“Upon your jovial countenance,
Your overflow of human gladness,
My Puritans once looked askance;
They saw in merriment but madness.
That gloom has ceased; our annual feast
Rebukes no laughing guest as sinning;
From you, bright Birthday of the East,
The date of its own joy beginning.
Your overflow of human gladness,
My Puritans once looked askance;
They saw in merriment but madness.
That gloom has ceased; our annual feast
Rebukes no laughing guest as sinning;
From you, bright Birthday of the East,
The date of its own joy beginning.
“My Pilgrims thought your wassail rude,
Your Yule-flames a barbaric splendor;
Your gay old English games eschewed,
Their graver gratitude to render
For hardships past, for peace at last:
Now, with a larger comprehending,
We catch your cheerful meaning vast,
That gives the year a blessed ending.
Your Yule-flames a barbaric splendor;
Your gay old English games eschewed,
Their graver gratitude to render
For hardships past, for peace at last:
Now, with a larger comprehending,
We catch your cheerful meaning vast,
That gives the year a blessed ending.
“You raised the clash of Pagan mirth
To chords of purer, loftier feeling:
How joyously the desert earth
Rang to the Christmas bells' first pealing!
Blithe bells, repeat your echo sweet,
Of Him who died, and yet is living!
Ring on! ring in His coming feet,
Whose presence is the World's Thanksgiving!”
To chords of purer, loftier feeling:
How joyously the desert earth
Rang to the Christmas bells' first pealing!
Blithe bells, repeat your echo sweet,
Of Him who died, and yet is living!
Ring on! ring in His coming feet,
Whose presence is the World's Thanksgiving!”
Ah, sacred Christmas! with your snows
Falls on the land a blessing whiter!
Its best, its Holiest, Heaven bestows:
Light breaks; life everywhere grows brighter.
Our hearts we lift to take God's gift;
Our own, to share with one another:
Apart no more we coldly drift;
Christmas brings brother home to brother.
Falls on the land a blessing whiter!
Its best, its Holiest, Heaven bestows:
Light breaks; life everywhere grows brighter.
Our hearts we lift to take God's gift;
Our own, to share with one another:
Apart no more we coldly drift;
Christmas brings brother home to brother.
Dear last days of the dying year,
Golden with Love's most lovely story!
Dear homely earth, to Heaven so near,
Shone on by Bethlehem's starry glory!
Glad Christmas-tide, flow swift and wide,
With precious gifts for mortals freighted!
Glad Christmas Day, with us abide,
At every hearthstone acclimated!
Golden with Love's most lovely story!
Dear homely earth, to Heaven so near,
Shone on by Bethlehem's starry glory!
Glad Christmas-tide, flow swift and wide,
With precious gifts for mortals freighted!
Glad Christmas Day, with us abide,
At every hearthstone acclimated!
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So Christmas and Thanksgiving clasp
Their hands, and brightly bridge December.
Close met within that heart-felt grasp,
All friends One Friend of all remember.
Two feast-fires glow across the snow:
Dead voices answer to the living,
As home to meet our own we go;
“Praise God for Christmas and Thanksgiving!”
Their hands, and brightly bridge December.
Close met within that heart-felt grasp,
All friends One Friend of all remember.
Two feast-fires glow across the snow:
Dead voices answer to the living,
As home to meet our own we go;
“Praise God for Christmas and Thanksgiving!”
| The poetical works of Lucy Larcom | |