 | Poems, original and translated |  |
126
CHANNING.
From the pure upper world to-day
A hallowed memory meets us here,—
A presence lighting all our way
With heavenly thoughts and lofty cheer.
A hallowed memory meets us here,—
A presence lighting all our way
With heavenly thoughts and lofty cheer.
Here first he breathed the ocean air,
The headland cliff exalted trod,
And felt a Spirit everywhere,
And saw the step of Nature's God.
The headland cliff exalted trod,
And felt a Spirit everywhere,
And saw the step of Nature's God.
His bosom, heaving with the sea,
Exulted in the glorious din;
The elemental energy
Woke answering energy within.
Exulted in the glorious din;
The elemental energy
Woke answering energy within.
In many a lone and holy hour
Of rapturous self-communion there,
He felt within the peace and power
That issue from the fount of prayer.
Of rapturous self-communion there,
He felt within the peace and power
That issue from the fount of prayer.
And in the broad blue sky above,
In the large book of Nature, then
He felt the greatness of God's love
Rebuke the narrow creeds of men.
In the large book of Nature, then
He felt the greatness of God's love
Rebuke the narrow creeds of men.
Communing there with Nature's word,
Beside the vast and solemn sea,
With awe profound his spirit heard
The holy hymn of Liberty.
Beside the vast and solemn sea,
With awe profound his spirit heard
The holy hymn of Liberty.
127
And surely here, where field and shore
Seem waiting still his step to hear,
And, musing by the breaker's roar,
We feel his spirit breathing near,—
Seem waiting still his step to hear,
And, musing by the breaker's roar,
We feel his spirit breathing near,—
Here, where the broad and chainless sea,
The blue sky bending from above,
Confirm the gospel, large and free,
He preached, of God's impartial love,
The blue sky bending from above,
Confirm the gospel, large and free,
He preached, of God's impartial love,
With an immortal fervor warm,
Shall rise an image of the man,
That shall express the spirit's form
As neither stone nor canvas can.
Shall rise an image of the man,
That shall express the spirit's form
As neither stone nor canvas can.
And many a soul that felt the thrill
His look through heart and conscience sent,
Burns with the flame it kindled still,
And is his living monument.
His look through heart and conscience sent,
Burns with the flame it kindled still,
And is his living monument.
That flame yet lives, that life breathes power,
The age still feels its holy thrill;
That voice is heard in trial's hour,
To nerve the weak and wavering will.
The age still feels its holy thrill;
That voice is heard in trial's hour,
To nerve the weak and wavering will.
No time shall come when Channing's name
Shall grow less bright on Freedom's scroll,
Or cease to light the holy flame
Of faith and virtue in the soul.
Shall grow less bright on Freedom's scroll,
Or cease to light the holy flame
Of faith and virtue in the soul.
| Poems, original and translated | |