University of Virginia Library

I.

Spirit of Harmony divine,
Whom I so long have worshipp'd from afar,
Not having call'd thee mine,
Do thou at length draw near,
And for a little season deign to be
Lord of all my melody,
And master of my soul;
Whence may the rythmic numbers roll
In not unworthy lays
Of thee, who art the universal Whole,
Of thee, great Spirit, who wast before the days
Of human blame or human praise,
When all the earth was silent, but for thee,
Who spakest then in flower and tree,
In cloud and sky, or running rill,
In whatsoever was and knew not ill,
In all things that obeyed the high Creator's will.

II.

Alas! of thee how little do we know,
Or have new strength to learn!—
Who cannot well discern
Even in our best endeavour
Those simpler strains of thine, that round us flow
For ever and for ever;
Even in our purest thought
We cannot well be taught
To see and hear thee, Spirit, who dost dwell
In every hill, in every dell,
Where grasses grow and waters sleep,
Or where these lightly spring,
And through the meadows winding bring
Comfort to flowers that weep—
Then forward flash and leap,
And blending on their way
With all glad things and gay
In preludes fair and mazy symphonies
Do such sweet concert keep,
That at the last they join without surprise
In the everlasting chorus of the deep.

III.

The seasons rise and fall,
And, each succeeding each with more delight,
Build up the mighty fugue; and, wov'n though all,
The theme of this their music, “Day and Night,”
Doth never, never cease;
With thee for king and guide,
In mystic change they glide,
And still with sweet return do lessen and increase.

IV.

We only have fall'n from such a height so low,
We at the first o'er all created things
Created kings:
For look! with all things else it is not so;
The tender flowers thy government obey,
And, each in order due
Returning, fill the happy earth alway
With looks of love and eyes of natural hue.
The nightingale forgetteth not her song,
Which God hath taught her with shrill throat to tune
Deep in the drowsy woodlands, all night long,
Under the silent moon:
Out of her sinless heart o'erflows
The joyful thought that bids her sing;
She hath no care, no fear she knows
For what to-morrow's dawn may bring,
And nothing can her touch
With sense of sadness for the former years—
Alas! our deepest, sweetest thoughts are such
As fill the eyes with tears.

V.

Hence we may no longer hope
Without a touch of pain
To watch the red sun slowly slope
Behind the mountains to the main,
As in the days of old;
And our heart must blindly grope
To the light that shineth ever
Through darkness blank and cold;
And if at even we behold
Over some majestic river
Summer's green or autumn's gold
By the fitful breezes tost,
In every shadow we foresee
A darker that is yet to be,
And in all tender lights on flower and tree
The light of Eden lost.

VI.

Yet, Spirit, grant me this,
Sometimes to lift me with thy wings
Far, far above each jarring sound that rings
On earth's discordant sphere
To thine abodes of bliss;
That I may see and hear
What only true and perfect concord is,
And what the glorious ending
Toward which the souls are tending
Of those whom thou dost perfect and hold dear

VII.

For oh! thou hast not left us all alone,
In utter solitude
Upon our ills to brood,
Or faint in searching for a bliss unknown;
It cannot be that all our love is flown
So far from thee, the source of all our good;
He knows it, whosoe'er hath stood
But for a moment betwixt heaven and hell,
Doubtful to plunge or climb,
And, in his agony hardly choosing this,
Hath spurned the black abyss,
And up towards heaven achieved his way sublime—
He knows and he remembers well
The rapture of that time;
When first from his freed spirit fell
A veil more thick than that of cloud
Which hides the mountain from God's face,
When the molten glacier roars aloud,
And the sunbeams find no peering-place,
And snowy hurricanes sweep the frosted pine—
Then is given him to divine
Faultless beauty, and from far
Music's golden rule to see—
That which was and is to be—
A perfect love that blends with perfect law:
Till he has quite forgot his old desire,
And nothing now seems fair, but only this,
To soar and sing with that celestial choir,
Or else on earth to make their service his;
And lo! his own will is no more his own,
Lost in thy bright and perfect majesty,
To whom is given the universal rule
Of earth, and air, and sea;
For he beholds thee, Spirit, beautiful,
And that there is none other like to thee;
All meaner passions from his breast are flown,
And in thy light he lives, one glorious hour, alone.

VIII.

Wherefore the birds may sing,
The flowers bloom on, the happy waters flow,
And every loud-lipp'd cave of ocean ring:
Let all glad things be glad,
And let the stately seasons come and go,
Our heart shall not be sad:
But when thy star-tun'd voices round us roll,
Or, steep'd in silence of poetic thought,
We search for God and thee through deeps of soul,
Albeit for some far-distant end we yearn,
Thanks for the present trust such hours have taught,
That thou wilt yet return—
Wilt yet make earth and heaven and all things thine,
Spirit, long-lost, divine!