University of Virginia Library


206

CONTRASTS.

I shall not come to the heavenly court
As I enter your ball to-night,
In tissues wreathed with flowery sport,
And jewels of haughty light,
Bearing on shoulders stiff and straight
The marble of my face,
Moving with high and measured gait
To claim my yielded place.
Poor narrow souls! your easy spite
Moves this enforced disdain:
I cannot vanish from the fight
Other than crowned or slain.

207

The russet garb of penitence
For me were lighter wear
Than all a queen's magnificence,
A prince's minivère.
Unloose, unloose your chains of pride,
Set my vexed spirit free,
That I may follow my angel guide
In glad humility.
For I would hearken the sentence deep,
Abide the lifted rod,
And sink, like a chastened child, to weep
In the fatherhood of God.