 | Poems by John B. Tabb |  |
TO HIS EMINENCE,
CARDINAL JOHN HENRY NEWMAN,
THESE POEMS ARE,
WITH HIS GRACIOUS PERMISSION,
REVERENTLY INSCRIBED
BY HIS SERVANT,
THE AUTHOR.
DEDICATION.
As waters from the lowliest valleys breatheTheir tribute vapors to the mountain height,
Where each, anon, transfigured of the light
Enkindles all the parent wave beneath;
So, these my misty reveries I wreathe,
And waft them to the summit of thy sight,
Till in that sunshine, shriven from the night,
A mirrored benediction they bequeathe.
For long thy lordly Eminence hath stood
Among the favored of the Olympian Nine,
Upon whose ear thy psaltering voice renewed
The ancient echoes of the classic shrine,
Whereon the while my tottering steps intrude,
Fain would I place a timorous hand in thine.
17
THE HOSPITAL BIRD.
A breath of joy, sweet bird,
A solace to each prisoner of pain,
A pledge of hope returning, is thy strain
Through the long watches heard.
A solace to each prisoner of pain,
A pledge of hope returning, is thy strain
Through the long watches heard.
The soul in sleepless sighs,
Or else of dreams, through panting hours, the prey,
Hails in thy voice a prophecy of day
Ere yet the darkness flies.
Or else of dreams, through panting hours, the prey,
Hails in thy voice a prophecy of day
Ere yet the darkness flies.
The tender babe, new-born,—
The dying mother, startled by its wail,—
The fevered brow,—the cheek of madness pale,—
The bosom rest-forlorn,—
The dying mother, startled by its wail,—
The fevered brow,—the cheek of madness pale,—
The bosom rest-forlorn,—
Each, with emotion strong,
Heaves through the billowed agonies of night,
Whilst over them, a glittering foam of light,
Drifts thy unshadowed song.
Heaves through the billowed agonies of night,
Whilst over them, a glittering foam of light,
Drifts thy unshadowed song.
18
How vast its influence sweet!
How small the voiceful compass of thy throat,
Whereof each silver, scintillating note
A thousand blessings greet!
How small the voiceful compass of thy throat,
Whereof each silver, scintillating note
A thousand blessings greet!
Teach me the power divine
Some light o'er dark humanity to fling,
Some song of hope celestial to sing,
Dear to all hearts as thine.
Some light o'er dark humanity to fling,
Some song of hope celestial to sing,
Dear to all hearts as thine.
21
THE VISION OF THE TARN.
Alone, in contemplation lost,
I stood upon a castled height,
Dark beetling o'er a lurid tarn
That glassed the brow of night.
I stood upon a castled height,
Dark beetling o'er a lurid tarn
That glassed the brow of night.
Between the icy flash of stars,
Above me sprinkled and beneath,
The silence of the listening air
Was counterfeit of death.
Above me sprinkled and beneath,
The silence of the listening air
Was counterfeit of death.
No cloud upon the naked sky,
No ripple on the lake below;
But o'er the sluggish waters hung
A phosphorescent glow,
No ripple on the lake below;
But o'er the sluggish waters hung
A phosphorescent glow,
That suddenly, all quivering wan,
As smitten with the throes of birth,
Upheaving, vanished, to reveal
A phantom not of earth—
As smitten with the throes of birth,
Upheaving, vanished, to reveal
A phantom not of earth—
A lily wonderful as light,
Unfolded on the balmy deep,
And, cradled in its bosom, lay
A presence lost in sleep.
Unfolded on the balmy deep,
And, cradled in its bosom, lay
A presence lost in sleep.
22
And tenderly a star remote
Shed holy lustre o'er the place,
Where innocence and peace betrayed
Such unimagined grace
Shed holy lustre o'er the place,
Where innocence and peace betrayed
Such unimagined grace
That e'en the calm celestial orb,
Enamoured of the dream below,
With tremulous emotion pale
Diffused a milder glow.
Enamoured of the dream below,
With tremulous emotion pale
Diffused a milder glow.
And I beheld, in mystery,
The secret of my vision fair—
That of a relic sprung the flower
That bore its image there.
The secret of my vision fair—
That of a relic sprung the flower
That bore its image there.
And from the watchful satellite—
The dwelling of a spirit fled—
That faithful sentinel of love
Its vacant shrine surveyed,
The dwelling of a spirit fled—
That faithful sentinel of love
Its vacant shrine surveyed,
And knew, through all transition seen,
Its place and habitation dear,
Still waiting, in the throb of hope,
Its resurrection here.
Its place and habitation dear,
Still waiting, in the throb of hope,
Its resurrection here.
Long had I gazed; but, lo! a cloud,
Down-swooping as a bird of night,
O'erwhelmed me, and the phantasy
Was blotted from my sight.
Down-swooping as a bird of night,
O'erwhelmed me, and the phantasy
Was blotted from my sight.
25
THE WIND.
A gentle sigh of half regret
Thou breathest o'er me now,
Scarce wakening the leafy shade
That trembles on my brow;
And yet of direful visitants
The sternest thou.
Thou breathest o'er me now,
Scarce wakening the leafy shade
That trembles on my brow;
And yet of direful visitants
The sternest thou.
Controlling all, of none controlled,
O'er earth, and sky, and sea,
Where'er thou listest, wandering,
A scourge or balm to be,
Thou bendest all to reverence
Thy majesty.
O'er earth, and sky, and sea,
Where'er thou listest, wandering,
A scourge or balm to be,
Thou bendest all to reverence
Thy majesty.
Thou scatterest the fleecy clouds,
And herdest them again,
To pour upon the harvest lands
The bounty of the rain;
Then winnowest, with lusty flail
The ripened grain.
And herdest them again,
To pour upon the harvest lands
The bounty of the rain;
Then winnowest, with lusty flail
The ripened grain.
26
In lordly blessings lordliest,
In malediction worst,
Thou fannest from a shadeless wing,
On multitudes accurst,
Wan famine, reeking pestilence,
And scarlet thirst.
In malediction worst,
Thou fannest from a shadeless wing,
On multitudes accurst,
Wan famine, reeking pestilence,
And scarlet thirst.
The anger of the storm is thine,
The terror of the wave,
Old ocean, in thy foamy wrath
Howls, smitten as a slave,
Or, at thy whisperings of calm,
Forgets to rave.
The terror of the wave,
Old ocean, in thy foamy wrath
Howls, smitten as a slave,
Or, at thy whisperings of calm,
Forgets to rave.
We see thee not, though everywhere
Thou compassest the eye:
Thyself, in silence mystical,
The subtle harmony
Of Nature's tuneful choir divine
Dost all supply.
Thou compassest the eye:
Thyself, in silence mystical,
The subtle harmony
Of Nature's tuneful choir divine
Dost all supply.
Mute spirit, if thy pinions waft,
Unbidden, o'er my soul,
The thoughts that as a tide of dreams
Involuntary roll,
Be thine the gift of utterance,—
My tongue control!
Unbidden, o'er my soul,
The thoughts that as a tide of dreams
Involuntary roll,
Be thine the gift of utterance,—
My tongue control!
33
INVOCATION.
Come, gentle Sleep!
Unchiding mother of a wayward son;
Come, and mine eyelids steep,
For day is done.
And night's cold shadow steals my lonely soul upon.
Unchiding mother of a wayward son;
Come, and mine eyelids steep,
For day is done.
And night's cold shadow steals my lonely soul upon.
Come, Queen of Peace!
And seal me with thy benediction now;
Come, and from care release
The throbbing brow,
And to thy sceptred calm each stern emotion bow.
And seal me with thy benediction now;
Come, and from care release
The throbbing brow,
And to thy sceptred calm each stern emotion bow.
Bring with thee dreams—
Responsive visions of the days gone by,
Still as in quiet streams
The pictured sky,
That with a soothing charm allures the pensive eye.
Responsive visions of the days gone by,
Still as in quiet streams
The pictured sky,
That with a soothing charm allures the pensive eye.
Thou art of Love
A tender token to each erring child,
Sent, as the holy dove
O'er waters wild:
The one remaining joy of Eden undefiled.
A tender token to each erring child,
Sent, as the holy dove
O'er waters wild:
The one remaining joy of Eden undefiled.
34
As pilgrims, we,
Thy children, weary of the shifting scene,
Turn for repose to thee:
Thy brow serene
No frown repulsive clouds, the yearning heart to wean.
Thy children, weary of the shifting scene,
Turn for repose to thee:
Thy brow serene
No frown repulsive clouds, the yearning heart to wean.
When life is spent,
And Death, thy brother, claimeth as his own
All that thy favor lent,
Then for thy son
Plead, that he kindly deal, as thou hast ever done.
And Death, thy brother, claimeth as his own
All that thy favor lent,
Then for thy son
Plead, that he kindly deal, as thou hast ever done.
45
THE DOVE.
A tuneful mist above a silent sea
O'er which thou broodest, seems thy voice to me—
A moan of widowed memory above
A tideless depth of erst impetuous love.
O'er which thou broodest, seems thy voice to me—
A moan of widowed memory above
A tideless depth of erst impetuous love.
E'en as the main, thy circling monody
Upon the lone horizon meets the sky,
Where faintly flickers, in the distance far,
The afterglow of hope's departed star.
Upon the lone horizon meets the sky,
Where faintly flickers, in the distance far,
The afterglow of hope's departed star.
Pour forth, sweet bird, thy requiem; and lo!
Night's dreamy waves of sympathy o'erflow
To soothe thy pain; while thoughts, attuned to thine,
Melt into twilight tenderness divine.
Night's dreamy waves of sympathy o'erflow
To soothe thy pain; while thoughts, attuned to thine,
Melt into twilight tenderness divine.
49
FLOWERS.
They are not ours,
The fleeting flowers,
But lights of God,
That through the sod
Flash upwards from the world beneath—
That region peopled wide with death—
And tell us, in each subtle hue,
That life renewed is passing through
Our world again to seek the skies—
Its native realm of Paradise.
The fleeting flowers,
But lights of God,
That through the sod
Flash upwards from the world beneath—
That region peopled wide with death—
And tell us, in each subtle hue,
That life renewed is passing through
Our world again to seek the skies—
Its native realm of Paradise.
How brief their day!
They cannot stay;
Our mother Earth
Beholds their birth,
And spreads her ample bosom deep,
Some relic of their stay to keep,
And each in benediction flings
A virtue from its dainty wings;
But lo! she treasures it in vain,
It blooms, and vanishes again!
They cannot stay;
Our mother Earth
Beholds their birth,
And spreads her ample bosom deep,
Some relic of their stay to keep,
And each in benediction flings
A virtue from its dainty wings;
But lo! she treasures it in vain,
It blooms, and vanishes again!
53
A FLEETING GUEST.
Through the foul arch of night,
On airy pinions white,
It came to me,
And, in the smile of day,
All beautiful it lay,
Yet pale to see.
On airy pinions white,
It came to me,
And, in the smile of day,
All beautiful it lay,
Yet pale to see.
“Whence comest thou?” I cried;
A silence soft replied:
“From regions vast—
The ocean gave me birth,
And thence through heaven to earth
My spirit passed.”
A silence soft replied:
“From regions vast—
The ocean gave me birth,
And thence through heaven to earth
My spirit passed.”
As o'er an elfin bright,
I bent with strange delight,
But all too near;
For, lo! my breathing warm
Dissolved the magic charm
Into a tear!
I bent with strange delight,
But all too near;
For, lo! my breathing warm
Dissolved the magic charm
Into a tear!
61
A PRELUDE OF NIGHT.
Over the waters far there came,
At the birth of the evening star, a voice
Like music low:
Unto the heart alone it spake,
With the stress of the ocean tone.
At the birth of the evening star, a voice
Like music low:
Unto the heart alone it spake,
With the stress of the ocean tone.
“Mine is the reign of peace,” it said,
“Day's restless throbbings cease in me;
The fevered glow
Of her o'er-wearied feet subsides
Beneath my kisses sweet.
“Day's restless throbbings cease in me;
The fevered glow
Of her o'er-wearied feet subsides
Beneath my kisses sweet.
“My starry arch doth link this calm
Of twilight to the brink of her
Pale sister-hour,
While trembling shadows weave in one
All stranger souls that grieve.
Of twilight to the brink of her
Pale sister-hour,
While trembling shadows weave in one
All stranger souls that grieve.
“Light is the keen-edged blade that cleaves
The spirits kindred made in dreams:
My gentle power
Breathes into souls apart a sigh
From the day's breaking heart.
The spirits kindred made in dreams:
My gentle power
Breathes into souls apart a sigh
From the day's breaking heart.
62
“Noon hath no gift of tears: her eye
Burns with a glance that sears the wings
Of tender thought;
And from its lidless fire, aghast,
All fairy throngs retire.
Burns with a glance that sears the wings
Of tender thought;
And from its lidless fire, aghast,
All fairy throngs retire.
“Night is the elder child of God;
His brooding spirit mild, as ere
The light was wrought,
Still, for its wonted rest, returns
To her dark-sheltered breast.”
His brooding spirit mild, as ere
The light was wrought,
Still, for its wonted rest, returns
To her dark-sheltered breast.”
65
LINDENWOOD.
Revelry wakes in the dim halls of Lindenwood;
Strange is the minstrelsy there to be heard;
Long have they slumbered in silence and solitude,
Haunted alone of the night-roving bird.
Strange is the minstrelsy there to be heard;
Long have they slumbered in silence and solitude,
Haunted alone of the night-roving bird.
Swells with its chorus the mirth-mingled banquet song,
Fresh as the tide-lifted billows at play—
Why to the festal board comes not the bridal throng?
Where, with his bride, doth the bridegroom delay?
Fresh as the tide-lifted billows at play—
Why to the festal board comes not the bridal throng?
Where, with his bride, doth the bridegroom delay?
Lingering still, stands the lord of green Lindenwood,
Waiting the bride, for her nuptials arrayed,
Loth to be led from the bower of her maidenhood,
Lady of lineage proud to be made.
Waiting the bride, for her nuptials arrayed,
Loth to be led from the bower of her maidenhood,
Lady of lineage proud to be made.
Silently there, at her portal, he listeneth:
Gloweth his heart with a rapture inspired;
While, in his glance, as a beacon-star, glisteneth
Love with the flash of expectancy fired.
Gloweth his heart with a rapture inspired;
While, in his glance, as a beacon-star, glisteneth
Love with the flash of expectancy fired.
Lo! is it she, in the moonlight, that beckoneth,
Timing her step to the faint-flowing song?
Nought but the spell of her presence he reckoneth,
Flitting the intricate mazes along.
Timing her step to the faint-flowing song?
Nought but the spell of her presence he reckoneth,
Flitting the intricate mazes along.
66
Still from his touch like a shadow ethereal,
Glideth she on, in the dim-veiling light,
Till, as the torch, in a vapor funereal,
Quenched is the wildering vision to sight!
Glideth she on, in the dim-veiling light,
Till, as the torch, in a vapor funereal,
Quenched is the wildering vision to sight!
Hark! let the choral-song cease in old Lindenwood!
Pray for a soul from life's revelry fled!
High in her chamber, the shrine of her maidenhood,
Pale as her bridal-wreath, lieth she, dead—
Pray for a soul from life's revelry fled!
High in her chamber, the shrine of her maidenhood,
Pale as her bridal-wreath, lieth she, dead—
Mourn, let us mourn for the grey walls of Lindenwood,
There, nevermore, be the minstrelsy heard:
Leave them alone in their silence and solitude,
Haunted again of the night-roving bird.
There, nevermore, be the minstrelsy heard:
Leave them alone in their silence and solitude,
Haunted again of the night-roving bird.
69
DESTINY.
“The Stars above us govern our condition.”—
King Lear.
King Lear.
Oft had a melancholy star,
Of human aspect mild,
In pensive vigil gazed upon
A sleeping child,
And whitened, as the wave of light
Dispelled the vision from his sight.
Of human aspect mild,
In pensive vigil gazed upon
A sleeping child,
And whitened, as the wave of light
Dispelled the vision from his sight.
Behind the sun, disconsolate,
The livelong summer day,
In love and loneliness he sighed
The hours away,
Till roused from reverie to feel
The twilight vapors o'er him steal.
The livelong summer day,
In love and loneliness he sighed
The hours away,
Till roused from reverie to feel
The twilight vapors o'er him steal.
Night after night, all tremulous,
Distraught, and paler grown,
He saw, enamoured of the spell,
That form alone,
Nor found amid the realms of air
A paragon of love so fair.
Distraught, and paler grown,
He saw, enamoured of the spell,
That form alone,
Nor found amid the realms of air
A paragon of love so fair.
70
“Alas!” and silently a tear
The swelling thought betrayed,
“Forlorn, sweet child, my destiny
Apart!” he said;
“A phantom of perpetual night
To woo thy slumbering orbs of light!”
The swelling thought betrayed,
“Forlorn, sweet child, my destiny
Apart!” he said;
“A phantom of perpetual night
To woo thy slumbering orbs of light!”
“Lost in sublimity of space,
Above the eternal snow,
That clothes in raiment virginal
The peaks below,
In vain this rhapsody of sighs
To lift the fringes of thine eyes.”
Above the eternal snow,
That clothes in raiment virginal
The peaks below,
In vain this rhapsody of sighs
To lift the fringes of thine eyes.”
“O, for some charm melodious!
A seraph-tone—to sweep
In throbbing syllables adown
The tide of sleep,
And with the conscious smile to raise
Thy spirit to my wistful gaze!”
A seraph-tone—to sweep
In throbbing syllables adown
The tide of sleep,
And with the conscious smile to raise
Thy spirit to my wistful gaze!”
He ceased: for, hark! a nightingale
From dreams all passion-wrought,
Wakes into song, interpreting
The plaintive thought,
Till, soft as lily petals white,
The eyelids blossom with delight.
From dreams all passion-wrought,
Wakes into song, interpreting
The plaintive thought,
Till, soft as lily petals white,
The eyelids blossom with delight.
71
And lo! the child in ecstacy
Of reverence hath bent
Upon the burning satellite
His gaze intent,
While blend in rapture of desire
The mortal and immortal fire.
Of reverence hath bent
Upon the burning satellite
His gaze intent,
While blend in rapture of desire
The mortal and immortal fire.
Serene, but coldly beautiful,
At dewy dawn of day,
A moon-pale masterpiece of Death
In marble lay,
And o'er it, tremulously far,
The splendor of the morning star.
At dewy dawn of day,
A moon-pale masterpiece of Death
In marble lay,
And o'er it, tremulously far,
The splendor of the morning star.
75
SYMPATHY.
'Tis in the silent isthmus-hour of time,Where light and darkness have alternate birth,
And nature, in her agony sublime,
Shrouds with a veil of mystery, the earth
That, as a mist low-creeping through the gloom,
A wandering shadow clasps a nameless tomb—
All night the cypress sighs: the waning moon
Sinks, pale with vigil, where the sun has set:
The morning wakes; and, lo! an altar strewn,—
A grave with deathless sympathy is wet.
79
THE RHYME OF THE ROCK.
Creation's morning broke upon my brow;
The joyous sea,
Baptized of light, as I behold it now,
Encompassed me
With all its breathing tides of voiceful majesty.
The joyous sea,
Baptized of light, as I behold it now,
Encompassed me
With all its breathing tides of voiceful majesty.
The tender dawn, a virgin, blushed before
The rising sun,
And wrought of mist a folding mantle pure
Her charms upon,
When, lo! the quickening glance she fondly strove to shun.
The rising sun,
And wrought of mist a folding mantle pure
Her charms upon,
When, lo! the quickening glance she fondly strove to shun.
Swift rolled to noon the unaccustomed wheel,
Then westward sped,
Where, fain the kindling radiance to feel,
Rich vapors spread
Beneath their monarch's feet, and o'er his regal head.
Then westward sped,
Where, fain the kindling radiance to feel,
Rich vapors spread
Beneath their monarch's feet, and o'er his regal head.
Then soft the budding crescent silvered through
The twilight dim,
And darkling to its full-blown splendor grew
The burnished rim,
While sang the choral waves a hoarse triumphal hymn.
The twilight dim,
And darkling to its full-blown splendor grew
The burnished rim,
While sang the choral waves a hoarse triumphal hymn.
80
The circling years to centuries untold,
As moments passed;
Nor Time nor Death one dismal shadow cold
Upon me cast:
All earth and heaven reposed in calm communion vast.
As moments passed;
Nor Time nor Death one dismal shadow cold
Upon me cast:
All earth and heaven reposed in calm communion vast.
But Change, alas! on sudden pinions borne,
With darkness fell;
And blind Confusion, from the womb uptorn
Of haggard Hell,
Spun o'er the dizzy world that shrunk their alien spell.
With darkness fell;
And blind Confusion, from the womb uptorn
Of haggard Hell,
Spun o'er the dizzy world that shrunk their alien spell.
Then drifted, prone upon the devious main,
Whose billows warm
Plunged headlong with the wayward hurricane,
A fragile form
Untented to the elements that swayed the storm.
Whose billows warm
Plunged headlong with the wayward hurricane,
A fragile form
Untented to the elements that swayed the storm.
The shudder of the thunder-bolt amazed
The welkin wide;
And, as in dumb bewilderment I gazed,
The cloven tide
Upheaved its burthen, motionless, upon my side.
The welkin wide;
And, as in dumb bewilderment I gazed,
The cloven tide
Upheaved its burthen, motionless, upon my side.
Ah! well-a-day! It was a maiden face,
A brow that shone
With the divine mortality and grace
That Death alone—
Pale sculptor!—graves, in mockery, on human stone!
A brow that shone
With the divine mortality and grace
That Death alone—
Pale sculptor!—graves, in mockery, on human stone!
81
“Art thou a child, sweet wanderer, of the sea,
Or earth, or air?
Whence comest thou,” I marveled, “unto me?
What winged care
Pursues a pathless voyager, so heavenly fair?”
Or earth, or air?
Whence comest thou,” I marveled, “unto me?
What winged care
Pursues a pathless voyager, so heavenly fair?”
No voice—no motion—for the sea had done
Its deed of death:
The first pale victim to its vengeance won
With briny breath
The foam had stifled and the waves that writhe beneath!
Its deed of death:
The first pale victim to its vengeance won
With briny breath
The foam had stifled and the waves that writhe beneath!
Had I but tears! Alas! my bosom cold,
How rough to be
Her resting place! No throb convulsive told
Its agony—
The dull imprisoned pain, unslaked, that wasted me!
How rough to be
Her resting place! No throb convulsive told
Its agony—
The dull imprisoned pain, unslaked, that wasted me!
And here she lay. The dewy twilight wept
Her woeful doom,
While the perpetual breezes fragrant kept
Her roofless tomb,
Whence meteors of the night dispelled sepulchral gloom.
Her woeful doom,
While the perpetual breezes fragrant kept
Her roofless tomb,
Whence meteors of the night dispelled sepulchral gloom.
And yonder light upon my summit set—
A beacon star—
Is tended of her watchful spirit yet,
That, from afar,
Warns the benighted sail that nears the harbor bar.
A beacon star—
Is tended of her watchful spirit yet,
That, from afar,
Warns the benighted sail that nears the harbor bar.
| Poems by John B. Tabb | |