 | [Poems by Clark in] The rosary |  |
295
STANZAS.
There lives a freedom in the Wind, when o'er the fields of Spring
It roams with gladness unconfined, on rich and dewy wing;
It wakes unbidden melody where'er its wanderings lie;
It fans the soft and vernal earth—refreshes all the sky,
It stirs the green leaves into sound, and haunts the forest glades,
'Till sweet and mournful tones are born within its peaceful shades;
And every brook that on its way goes murmuring along,
In the old and solemn wilderness, adds to the free wind's song.
It roams with gladness unconfined, on rich and dewy wing;
It wakes unbidden melody where'er its wanderings lie;
It fans the soft and vernal earth—refreshes all the sky,
It stirs the green leaves into sound, and haunts the forest glades,
'Till sweet and mournful tones are born within its peaceful shades;
And every brook that on its way goes murmuring along,
In the old and solemn wilderness, adds to the free wind's song.
The Sea, the mighty Sea, is free; and on its sounding shore
Its hoarsely-thundering surges burst with deep and troubled roar;
The staggering ships, when tempests lower, sink down into the tide:—
Wrecks of ambitious man are they, the remnants of his pride!
And yet above the flashing gem, the diamond and the pearl,
The vast and foaming tide rolls on, the feathery billows curl—
Unmindful how beneath their spray, all whitening in the deep,
The bones of the young and old are strewn, where lost affections sleep!
Its hoarsely-thundering surges burst with deep and troubled roar;
The staggering ships, when tempests lower, sink down into the tide:—
Wrecks of ambitious man are they, the remnants of his pride!
And yet above the flashing gem, the diamond and the pearl,
The vast and foaming tide rolls on, the feathery billows curl—
Unmindful how beneath their spray, all whitening in the deep,
The bones of the young and old are strewn, where lost affections sleep!
296
The soft blue streams of Spring are free, when, glittering in the sun,
Far to the wide and heaving deep their pleasant waters run;
They sing to banks where early flowers perfume the sunny air,
Unfolding all their tinted leaves—the beautiful and fair:
Even the great earth is moving on, and brings each season round—
The Summer hour, the Winter's sere and melancholy ground:
There's freedom in the golden Cloud, which sails along the West,
Dissolving in a sky of fire above the Ocean's breast.
Far to the wide and heaving deep their pleasant waters run;
They sing to banks where early flowers perfume the sunny air,
Unfolding all their tinted leaves—the beautiful and fair:
Even the great earth is moving on, and brings each season round—
The Summer hour, the Winter's sere and melancholy ground:
There's freedom in the golden Cloud, which sails along the West,
Dissolving in a sky of fire above the Ocean's breast.
And shall the clouds, and winds, and streams, be chainless all and free,
O Man! while fetters of the mind are lingering over thee?
Shall the soft harmonies that rise and fill the fields above,
Pour through the arches of the sky the eloquence of love,
While passions rude enthrall the soul, and sin's unhallowed cloud
Sink on a stern unbending heart, in desolation proud?
Wake! Let the sunbeams burn thereon, like Morning on the sea,—
The light which breaketh from above, and makes THE SPIRIT free!
O Man! while fetters of the mind are lingering over thee?
Shall the soft harmonies that rise and fill the fields above,
Pour through the arches of the sky the eloquence of love,
While passions rude enthrall the soul, and sin's unhallowed cloud
Sink on a stern unbending heart, in desolation proud?
Wake! Let the sunbeams burn thereon, like Morning on the sea,—
The light which breaketh from above, and makes THE SPIRIT free!
70
INFINITUDE.
“Is not God in the height of Heavens? And behold the height of the Stars, how high they are!”
Job XXII. 12.
Soar upward, boundless Thought!
Through the far evening skies direct thy way,
Where, with deep glory fraught,
The splendors of unnumbered star-beams play,
Burning in azure fields,—unwedded to Decay!
Through the far evening skies direct thy way,
Where, with deep glory fraught,
The splendors of unnumbered star-beams play,
Burning in azure fields,—unwedded to Decay!
71
Earth hath its primal hours—
The opening beauty of its peerless Spring,
With all its leaves and flowers;
When Time goes by with radiance on his wing,
O'er the ephemeral bloom, a rainbow spell to fling.
The opening beauty of its peerless Spring,
With all its leaves and flowers;
When Time goes by with radiance on his wing,
O'er the ephemeral bloom, a rainbow spell to fling.
Yet, to the pensive eye,
That looks on Autumn in its blighted time,
How sad—how silently
Is changed the beauty of the young year's clime!
Gone are the buds it nursed—the gladness of its prime
That looks on Autumn in its blighted time,
How sad—how silently
Is changed the beauty of the young year's clime!
Gone are the buds it nursed—the gladness of its prime
But, in the unbounded space,
That brightly bends its calm blue arch above,
Lingers undying grace—
A glow, which Time's dull lapse can ne'er remove—
A halo of delight—a Cynosure of Love.
That brightly bends its calm blue arch above,
Lingers undying grace—
A glow, which Time's dull lapse can ne'er remove—
A halo of delight—a Cynosure of Love.
Change comes not there, to dim
The sapphire hues, that the pure heavens invest;
And the melodious hymn
Of morning stars, in their far home of rest,
Lifts high the praise of God, and stirs the throbbing breast.
The sapphire hues, that the pure heavens invest;
And the melodious hymn
Of morning stars, in their far home of rest,
Lifts high the praise of God, and stirs the throbbing breast.
Kingdoms in dust are laid;
Column and fane in wrecks are overthrown;
The Pilgrim's prayer is said
'Midst halls of mighty dead, with weeds o'ergrown,
Where the green lizard broods on the damp threshold-stone.
Column and fane in wrecks are overthrown;
The Pilgrim's prayer is said
'Midst halls of mighty dead, with weeds o'ergrown,
Where the green lizard broods on the damp threshold-stone.
72
Names, lofty in their day,
Fade like the sunset from the western sky;—
The soul deserts the clay,
Death's torpid seal is on the languid eye,
And o'er the mouldering tomb, Oblivion's wave goes by!
Fade like the sunset from the western sky;—
The soul deserts the clay,
Death's torpid seal is on the languid eye,
And o'er the mouldering tomb, Oblivion's wave goes by!
But still the glorious Heaven
Uprears its mighty arch, by Death unwon,
By storm and fire unriven;
Though the thick tempest's wing may blot the sun,
'T is but a brief eclipse, whose shadows soon are done.
Uprears its mighty arch, by Death unwon,
By storm and fire unriven;
Though the thick tempest's wing may blot the sun,
'T is but a brief eclipse, whose shadows soon are done.
Faint emblem of the glow—
The flush of glories that beyond are spread:—
To thy pure fount I bow
Illumined Space!—throughout whose bounds was shed
The radiance of that Star, which to the Savior led!
The flush of glories that beyond are spread:—
To thy pure fount I bow
Illumined Space!—throughout whose bounds was shed
The radiance of that Star, which to the Savior led!
| [Poems by Clark in] The rosary | |