 | Words for the hour |  |
ODE.
Wherefore, great Love, to thee
I bend the duteous knee,
The homage of the heart devoutly paying;
Thou, greatest, first, and best,
Lord of the human breast,
None vainly slighteth thee in deed or saying.
I bend the duteous knee,
The homage of the heart devoutly paying;
Thou, greatest, first, and best,
Lord of the human breast,
None vainly slighteth thee in deed or saying.
Not in the childish guise
Where thy transcendent eyes
O'erleapt the heathen heaven's soft surrounding,
Nor in the wood-nymph's dress,
With lusty gagliardesse
Of Satyrs from the tangled thicket bounding.
Where thy transcendent eyes
O'erleapt the heathen heaven's soft surrounding,
Nor in the wood-nymph's dress,
With lusty gagliardesse
Of Satyrs from the tangled thicket bounding.
161
But with the awful brow,
The still, hushed presence thou,
The eyes that darken not the world with weeping,
The hand that never fails
To match the golden scales
With the heart wealth, left countless to thy keeping.
The still, hushed presence thou,
The eyes that darken not the world with weeping,
The hand that never fails
To match the golden scales
With the heart wealth, left countless to thy keeping.
Thou from the infant's birth
To the last day of earth
With tireless skill each fateful action fitting;
A genius at his side,
Divine to rule and guide,
Nor overcome at last, thro' fall and flitting;
To the last day of earth
With tireless skill each fateful action fitting;
A genius at his side,
Divine to rule and guide,
Nor overcome at last, thro' fall and flitting;
Thou, at the classic feast
By garlands unappeased,
Responding not to fondest invocation
Of youthful votaries,
Till holy Socrates
Uplift their hearts to thine eternal shining.
By garlands unappeased,
Responding not to fondest invocation
Of youthful votaries,
Till holy Socrates
Uplift their hearts to thine eternal shining.
Mute at the high command,
The solemn voice and hand,
Loud mirth and tipsy jollity sink under;
The dim eyes strain to see
Thy far off sanctity,
Then turn to other eyes, suffused with wonder.
The solemn voice and hand,
Loud mirth and tipsy jollity sink under;
162
Thy far off sanctity,
Then turn to other eyes, suffused with wonder.
My pæan too shall sound,
And my glad feet rebound
From this dark orb, our chequered fortunes rolling,
Where my faint heart lay prone,
Up to thy starry zone,
As the bird flies, by Nature's sweet controlling.
And my glad feet rebound
From this dark orb, our chequered fortunes rolling,
Where my faint heart lay prone,
Up to thy starry zone,
As the bird flies, by Nature's sweet controlling.
But thou rebuk'st us too,
For all our wild ado,
The want, the waste, the weary fault and fretting;
How mad the turmoil seems,
When, in our waking dreams,
Thou sham'st it with the presence past forgetting.
For all our wild ado,
The want, the waste, the weary fault and fretting;
How mad the turmoil seems,
When, in our waking dreams,
Thou sham'st it with the presence past forgetting.
Be piteous to our sins,
Where thought of thee begins,
And on thy hallowed ground we tread unknowing;
Are ravished far away
To unknown night and day,
Scared with dim heights, and viewless torrents flowing.
Where thought of thee begins,
And on thy hallowed ground we tread unknowing;
Are ravished far away
To unknown night and day,
Scared with dim heights, and viewless torrents flowing.
163
A thousand phantoms claim
Allegiance in thy name,
And we, unhappy, take the lead they give us,
While in thy sacred bounds,
Illuminate with wounds,
Slow smiling sweet, thou waitest to receive us.
Allegiance in thy name,
And we, unhappy, take the lead they give us,
While in thy sacred bounds,
Illuminate with wounds,
Slow smiling sweet, thou waitest to receive us.
There, where no dust nor damp
Quench thine unfailing lamp,
Suffer, oh Infinite, that we behold thee;
And kiss thy feet, with tears
Hoarded thro' painful years,
And with the wealth of loosened locks engold thee.
Quench thine unfailing lamp,
Suffer, oh Infinite, that we behold thee;
And kiss thy feet, with tears
Hoarded thro' painful years,
And with the wealth of loosened locks engold thee.
Like priceless ointment shed
On some belovèd head,
Let the mute worship of our hearts come o'er thee,
Till, ravished with thy sight,
Transfigured in thy light,
Our human baseness faint and die before thee.
On some belovèd head,
Let the mute worship of our hearts come o'er thee,
Till, ravished with thy sight,
Transfigured in thy light,
Our human baseness faint and die before thee.
| Words for the hour | |