 | The heavenly guest with other unpublished writings |  |
TEMPEST
O flying sails that scud before the gale,
O frowning clouds that drive o'er the dark sea,
O melancholy winds that pipe and wail
Your hopeless chorus, ye are dear to me!
O frowning clouds that drive o'er the dark sea,
O melancholy winds that pipe and wail
Your hopeless chorus, ye are dear to me!
For my swift thoughts before a sadder gale
Fly, seeking some safe harbor, some sweet rest,
Tossed on a restless sea, confused and pale,
Mist-blurred and sorrowful and all unblest.
Fly, seeking some safe harbor, some sweet rest,
Tossed on a restless sea, confused and pale,
Mist-blurred and sorrowful and all unblest.
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And my horizon gathers gloom and frowns
With folded clouds that blacken the bright day,
Heavy with tears, and the wind's wailing drowns
In speechless sorrow all that Hope can say.
With folded clouds that blacken the bright day,
Heavy with tears, and the wind's wailing drowns
In speechless sorrow all that Hope can say.
And yet a smile through the despairing mood
Breaks, half in mockery, half in wholesome cheer;
Shall one storm spoil the world, wreck all the good,
And flood thy little life with doubt and fear?
Breaks, half in mockery, half in wholesome cheer;
Shall one storm spoil the world, wreck all the good,
And flood thy little life with doubt and fear?
Thy little fleeting life, so soon at end
Upon this swinging star! Thy breathing-space
This side death's awful gate:—and wilt thou spend
In quarrelling with fate thy priceless days?
Upon this swinging star! Thy breathing-space
This side death's awful gate:—and wilt thou spend
In quarrelling with fate thy priceless days?
Not so, sad heart, be not so base. Behold,
There is no storm time may not smooth away;
There is no night of darkness dead and cold,
That may not brighten with returning day.
There is no storm time may not smooth away;
There is no night of darkness dead and cold,
That may not brighten with returning day.
God sends his tempests wrestling round the world
That health may follow, and thy little life
Owns the same land, though thy soul's sky is whirled
'Mid clouds and all the elements of strife.
That health may follow, and thy little life
Owns the same land, though thy soul's sky is whirled
'Mid clouds and all the elements of strife.
What fear'st thou? Earthquake, fire, flood, hurricane,
May not destroy thee. To thy striving soul
God's endless opportunities remain,
When wrath is spent and thunders cease to roll.
May not destroy thee. To thy striving soul
God's endless opportunities remain,
When wrath is spent and thunders cease to roll.
Let their ignoble sighing end, and set
Thy feet firm on the Truth, and keep thou calm.
At last shall pass the trouble and the fret,
And peaceful days shall follow, breathing balm.
Thy feet firm on the Truth, and keep thou calm.
At last shall pass the trouble and the fret,
And peaceful days shall follow, breathing balm.
| The heavenly guest with other unpublished writings | |