The poems and prose writings of Sumner Lincoln Fairfield In two volumes |
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RELIGION UNREVEALED. |
 | The poems and prose writings of Sumner Lincoln Fairfield |  |
RELIGION UNREVEALED.
Ancient romance of visionary minds,
Shadow and symbol of a holier creed!
To thee wild voices, wing'd on mountain winds,
And countless hecatombs, predoomed to bleed,
And earth and heaven, submissive to thy reed,
Bore awful witness to surpassing thought;
And many a vast emprise and godlike deed
Rendered its glory to thy fane unsought,
And o'er the soul of man its thrilling magic wrought.
Shadow and symbol of a holier creed!
To thee wild voices, wing'd on mountain winds,
And countless hecatombs, predoomed to bleed,
And earth and heaven, submissive to thy reed,
Bore awful witness to surpassing thought;
And many a vast emprise and godlike deed
Rendered its glory to thy fane unsought,
And o'er the soul of man its thrilling magic wrought.
Thy handmaid, Fable, shadowed love and truth,
As sunset waters image summer skies;
And genius blossomed in perpetual youth,
Wielding at will prophetic destinies;
Each gem and pearl, that in dark silence lies,
O'er thee its beauty like a sunbow shed,
And for the heaven of thought, that never dies,
Men toiled and suffered, smiling while they bled,
Till heroes, sages, bards, rose gods among the dead.
As sunset waters image summer skies;
And genius blossomed in perpetual youth,
Wielding at will prophetic destinies;
Each gem and pearl, that in dark silence lies,
O'er thee its beauty like a sunbow shed,
And for the heaven of thought, that never dies,
Men toiled and suffered, smiling while they bled,
Till heroes, sages, bards, rose gods among the dead.
379
O'er unlearned hearts, whence gushed translucent rills
Of mind, the floating darkness of their day
Lived with the presence of a Power, which fills
Each dewbell, leaf and raindrop with a ray
Of that divinity, all worlds obey.
Clothed in his terrors, on his mountain throne
The Olympian Thunderer sat, upon the play
Of arrowy lightnings—weapons all his own—
Gazing with that dread eye which ever smiles alone.
Of mind, the floating darkness of their day
Lived with the presence of a Power, which fills
Each dewbell, leaf and raindrop with a ray
Of that divinity, all worlds obey.
Clothed in his terrors, on his mountain throne
The Olympian Thunderer sat, upon the play
Of arrowy lightnings—weapons all his own—
Gazing with that dread eye which ever smiles alone.
Below, that wondrous beauty of the heart,
Dian of Delos, with a seraph brow,
Threw the deep sanctity pure thoughts impart
O'er the green vale of fountains, and the snow
Of high Olympus. With his shaft and bow,
Apollo wandered in his matchless might,
The god of eloquence and song, ev'n now
Invoked to crown the work of minds, whom night,
In time's abyss, then brooded o'er with still delight.
Dian of Delos, with a seraph brow,
Threw the deep sanctity pure thoughts impart
O'er the green vale of fountains, and the snow
Of high Olympus. With his shaft and bow,
Apollo wandered in his matchless might,
The god of eloquence and song, ev'n now
Invoked to crown the work of minds, whom night,
In time's abyss, then brooded o'er with still delight.
Limpid and laughing waters leapt and sung
Before the nymphs, and summer breezes came,
Hymns of the watching heavens to chaunt among
The old and solemn woods—wild haunts of fame!
The birthbed of full many a deathless name
Was hallowed first by thoughts, whence forms arose
Of virtue, beauty, glory—all that claim
Resolve and wisdom—and each wildwood rose
And oak wreath gave the power which great renown bestows.
Before the nymphs, and summer breezes came,
Hymns of the watching heavens to chaunt among
The old and solemn woods—wild haunts of fame!
The birthbed of full many a deathless name
Was hallowed first by thoughts, whence forms arose
Of virtue, beauty, glory—all that claim
Resolve and wisdom—and each wildwood rose
And oak wreath gave the power which great renown bestows.
Imagination's Eden—Arcady!
Thy spirit triumphs yet o'er waste and death;
Thy hallowed hills, thy pure and glorious sky,
And thy great thoughts, that burned in deeds beneath,
And veiled with awe and beauty rock and health,
To vast renown thy chosen name have given;
And not less lovely in thy victor wreath
Beam the bland smiles, like tender eyes of even,
Of Oread, Dryad, Muse, robed in the hues of heaven,
Thy spirit triumphs yet o'er waste and death;
Thy hallowed hills, thy pure and glorious sky,
And thy great thoughts, that burned in deeds beneath,
And veiled with awe and beauty rock and health,
To vast renown thy chosen name have given;
And not less lovely in thy victor wreath
Beam the bland smiles, like tender eyes of even,
Of Oread, Dryad, Muse, robed in the hues of heaven,
380
The unsearched depth of the soul's mysteries
Was to the men of elder time a home,
A heaven, where dwelt their mightiest deities,
Regents of good or ill—o'er years to come
Scattering their blight or brightness!—Ocean's foam
Gave birth to nature's crown of loveliness,
Hope was their Iris through the sky to roam,
And all their simple faith could not but bless
Hearts quick to share all bliss, and soothe unshunn'd distress.
Was to the men of elder time a home,
A heaven, where dwelt their mightiest deities,
Regents of good or ill—o'er years to come
Scattering their blight or brightness!—Ocean's foam
Gave birth to nature's crown of loveliness,
Hope was their Iris through the sky to roam,
And all their simple faith could not but bless
Hearts quick to share all bliss, and soothe unshunn'd distress.
Watchers and warders o'er the changing fate
Of life's brief season—thrones of spirits blest,
Where envy entered not, nor rival hate,
The stars were hope's eternal home of rest.
The o'erwrought brain, the worn and wasted breast
Drank in the nightsong of the Pleiades,
Whose music of the mind, like leaves caressed
By dayspring zephyrs, winged on melodies,
Wafted Elysium's soul on every holy breeze.
Of life's brief season—thrones of spirits blest,
Where envy entered not, nor rival hate,
The stars were hope's eternal home of rest.
The o'erwrought brain, the worn and wasted breast
Drank in the nightsong of the Pleiades,
Whose music of the mind, like leaves caressed
By dayspring zephyrs, winged on melodies,
Wafted Elysium's soul on every holy breeze.
The headlong torrent with its noise of war,
The brook that gurgled o'er the velvet vale,
The hoar and giant mountain, seen afar,
Whose dusky summit seamen wont to hail,
Ere Tiber or Piræus saw their sail—
The awful forest, and romantic wood,
Each had its god, its shrine, its song and tale,
Twilight revealments of a restless mood,
Gentle creations of the heart's dim solitude.
The brook that gurgled o'er the velvet vale,
The hoar and giant mountain, seen afar,
Whose dusky summit seamen wont to hail,
Ere Tiber or Piræus saw their sail—
The awful forest, and romantic wood,
Each had its god, its shrine, its song and tale,
Twilight revealments of a restless mood,
Gentle creations of the heart's dim solitude.
Gymnosophist or gnostic ne'er beheld
Wilder or fairer visions; every spot
Was peopled by divinities; hills swelled
And valleys glowed with grandeur; unforgot,
Man felt his Maker everywhere, and nought
Dimmed his deep faith that they, whose features won
His household prayer, would guide him to a lot
Blest as the flower that blossoms in the sun,
When toil had gained its meed, and virtue's race was run.
Wilder or fairer visions; every spot
Was peopled by divinities; hills swelled
And valleys glowed with grandeur; unforgot,
Man felt his Maker everywhere, and nought
Dimmed his deep faith that they, whose features won
His household prayer, would guide him to a lot
Blest as the flower that blossoms in the sun,
When toil had gained its meed, and virtue's race was run.
381
Fear had its triumphs then—when had it not?
Cocytus, Phlegethon, the gulph of gloom,
Forms shadowless in sunlight—shades of thought!
But sacred sympathies o'er all did bloom;
And the fair urn, unlike the mouldering tomb,
Freshened the memory of the cherished dead;
And, bending o'er it, love could still illume
The father's ashes, and around them shed
The sunbeams of the soul, that followed when he fled.
Cocytus, Phlegethon, the gulph of gloom,
Forms shadowless in sunlight—shades of thought!
But sacred sympathies o'er all did bloom;
And the fair urn, unlike the mouldering tomb,
Freshened the memory of the cherished dead;
And, bending o'er it, love could still illume
The father's ashes, and around them shed
The sunbeams of the soul, that followed when he fled.
Ancient Romance! thy spirit o'er me came
In early years, and many a weary hour
Hath glided by, like music, while the fame
Of genius held me in its welcome power.
And now—though shadows rest upon thy bower,
And sorrow weeps o'er my vain vanished dreams,—
I feel, thou hadst a great and glorious dower,
From whose vast treasure, Time's unnumbered streams
Have washed to us the gold that in our vision gleams.
In early years, and many a weary hour
Hath glided by, like music, while the fame
Of genius held me in its welcome power.
And now—though shadows rest upon thy bower,
And sorrow weeps o'er my vain vanished dreams,—
I feel, thou hadst a great and glorious dower,
From whose vast treasure, Time's unnumbered streams
Have washed to us the gold that in our vision gleams.
| The poems and prose writings of Sumner Lincoln Fairfield | |