 | The complete poetical writings of J. G. Holland |  |
8
PRELUDE.
Doubt takes to wings on such a night as this;
And while the traveller hugs his fluttering cloak,
And staggers o'er the weary waste alone,
Beneath a pitiless heaven, they flap his face,
And wheel above, or hunt his fainting soul,
As, with relentless greed, a vulture throng,
With their lank shadows mock the glazing eyes
Of the last camel of the caravan.
And Faith takes forms and wings on such a night.
Where love burns brightly at the household hearth,
And from the altar of each peaceful heart
Ascends the fragrant incense of its thanks,
And every pulse with sympathetic throb
Tells the true rhythm of trustfulest content,
They flutter in and out, and touch to smiles
The sleeping lips of infancy; and fan
The blush that lights the modest maiden's cheeks;
And toss the locks of children at their play.
And while the traveller hugs his fluttering cloak,
And staggers o'er the weary waste alone,
Beneath a pitiless heaven, they flap his face,
And wheel above, or hunt his fainting soul,
As, with relentless greed, a vulture throng,
With their lank shadows mock the glazing eyes
Of the last camel of the caravan.
And Faith takes forms and wings on such a night.
Where love burns brightly at the household hearth,
And from the altar of each peaceful heart
Ascends the fragrant incense of its thanks,
And every pulse with sympathetic throb
Tells the true rhythm of trustfulest content,
They flutter in and out, and touch to smiles
The sleeping lips of infancy; and fan
The blush that lights the modest maiden's cheeks;
And toss the locks of children at their play.
Silence is vocal if we listen well;
And Life and Being sing in dullest ears
From morn to night, from night to morn again,
With fine articulations; but when God
Disturbs the soul with terror, or inspires
With a great joy, the words of Doubt and Faith
Sound quick and sharp like drops on forest leaves;
And we look up to where the pleasant sky
Kisses the thunder-caps, and drink the song.
And Life and Being sing in dullest ears
From morn to night, from night to morn again,
With fine articulations; but when God
Disturbs the soul with terror, or inspires
With a great joy, the words of Doubt and Faith
Sound quick and sharp like drops on forest leaves;
And we look up to where the pleasant sky
Kisses the thunder-caps, and drink the song.
9
A SONG OF DOUBT.
The day is quenched, and the sun is fled;
God has forgotten the world!
The moon is gone, and the stars are dead;
God has forgotten the world!
God has forgotten the world!
The moon is gone, and the stars are dead;
God has forgotten the world!
Evil has won in the horrid feud
Of ages with The Throne;
Evil stands on the neck of Good,
And rules the world alone.
Of ages with The Throne;
Evil stands on the neck of Good,
And rules the world alone.
There is no good; there is no God;
And Faith is a heartless cheat
Who bares the back for the Devil's rod,
And scatters thorns for the feet.
And Faith is a heartless cheat
Who bares the back for the Devil's rod,
And scatters thorns for the feet.
What are prayers in the lips of death,
Filling and chilling with hail?
What are prayers but wasted breath
Beaten back by the gale?
Filling and chilling with hail?
What are prayers but wasted breath
Beaten back by the gale?
The day is quenched, and the sun is fled;
God has forgotten the world!
The moon is gone, and the stars are dead;
God has forgotten the world!
God has forgotten the world!
The moon is gone, and the stars are dead;
God has forgotten the world!
10
A SONG OF FAITH.
Day will return with a fresher boon;
God will remember the world!
Night will come with a newer moon;
God will remember the world!
God will remember the world!
Night will come with a newer moon;
God will remember the world!
Evil is only the slave of Good;
Sorrow the servant of Joy;
And the soul is mad that refuses food
Of the meanest in God's employ.
Sorrow the servant of Joy;
And the soul is mad that refuses food
Of the meanest in God's employ.
The fountain of joy is fed by tears,
And love is lit by the breath of sighs;
The deepest griefs and the wildest fears
Have holiest ministries.
And love is lit by the breath of sighs;
The deepest griefs and the wildest fears
Have holiest ministries.
Strong grows the oak in the sweeping storm;
Safely the flower sleeps under the snow;
And the farmer's hearth is never warm
Till the cold wind starts to blow.
Safely the flower sleeps under the snow;
And the farmer's hearth is never warm
Till the cold wind starts to blow.
Day will return with a fresher boon;
God will remember the world!
Night will come with a newer moon;
God will remember the world!
God will remember the world!
Night will come with a newer moon;
God will remember the world!
| The complete poetical writings of J. G. Holland | |