Golden Histories, etc By Wathen Mark Wilks Call |
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Old feelings
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 | Golden Histories, etc |  |
194
Old feelings
Once in my childish days I heard
A woman's voice that slowly read,
How 'twixt two shadowy mountains sped,
Four coloured steeds, four chariots whirr'd.
A woman's voice that slowly read,
How 'twixt two shadowy mountains sped,
Four coloured steeds, four chariots whirr'd.
For a magnificent personification of the winds, see Zechariah, chapter vi.
“In the first chariot were red horses; and in the second chariot black horses; and in the third chariot white horses; and in the fourth chariot grisled and bay horses. Then I answered and said unto the angel that talked with me, What are these, my lord? And the angel answered and said unto me, These are the four spirits of the heavens, which go forth from standing before the Lord of all the earth.”
I watched until she laid the book
On the white casement-ledge again;
My heart beat high with joyful pain
On that strange oracle to look.
On the white casement-ledge again;
My heart beat high with joyful pain
On that strange oracle to look.
Day after day I would ascend
The staircase in that large old house,
And still and timorous as a mouse
I sat and made that book my friend.
The staircase in that large old house,
And still and timorous as a mouse
I sat and made that book my friend.
I saw the birth of seas and skies,
The first sweet woman, first brave man;
I saw how morning light began,
How faded, over Paradise.
The first sweet woman, first brave man;
I saw how morning light began,
How faded, over Paradise.
195
I stood with the first Arab boy;
I saw the mother and the child
Of Oriental vision wild,
Laugh by the well for utter joy.
I saw the mother and the child
Of Oriental vision wild,
Laugh by the well for utter joy.
I saw a youth go forth at morn,
A traveller to the Syrian land,
And in the lonely evening stand,
An exile weary and forlorn.
A traveller to the Syrian land,
And in the lonely evening stand,
An exile weary and forlorn.
I saw him by the roadside lay
His sunken head upon a stone,
And while he slumbered, still and lone,
A dream fell on him, fair as day.
His sunken head upon a stone,
And while he slumbered, still and lone,
A dream fell on him, fair as day.
I saw a golden ladder reach
From earth to heaven among the stars,
And up and down its gleaming bars
Trod stately angels, without speech.
From earth to heaven among the stars,
And up and down its gleaming bars
Trod stately angels, without speech.
What wonders did I not behold!
Dark gorgeous women, turban'd men,
White tents, like ships, in plain and glen,
Slaves, palm-trees, camels, pearls, and gold.
Dark gorgeous women, turban'd men,
White tents, like ships, in plain and glen,
Slaves, palm-trees, camels, pearls, and gold.
Ah! many an hour I sat and read,
And God seemed with me all day long;
Joy murmured a sweet undersong,
I talkt with angels, with them fed.
And God seemed with me all day long;
Joy murmured a sweet undersong,
I talkt with angels, with them fed.
196
It was an old deserted room;
There was a skylight arch'd above,
And the blue heaven look'd thro' like love,
Softening and colouring mortal gloom.
There was a skylight arch'd above,
And the blue heaven look'd thro' like love,
Softening and colouring mortal gloom.
No playmate had I, knew no game,
Yet sometimes left my book to run
And blow bright bubbles in the sun;
In after life we do the same!
Yet sometimes left my book to run
And blow bright bubbles in the sun;
In after life we do the same!
That time is gone; you think me weak.
That I regret that perish'd time,
That I recal my golden prime
With beating heart and blushing cheek.
That I regret that perish'd time,
That I recal my golden prime
With beating heart and blushing cheek.
That time is gone: I live for truth,
Glad to resign each rainbow sham;
But, still remembering what I am,
I praise my sweet and saintly youth.
Glad to resign each rainbow sham;
But, still remembering what I am,
I praise my sweet and saintly youth.
So great a hope made truce with fear.
My joy and wonder were so strong,
So rare and delicate a song
Young Life was singing in mine ear!
My joy and wonder were so strong,
So rare and delicate a song
Young Life was singing in mine ear!
I therefore still in fancy climb
Up to that old and faded room,
Where feelings like fresh roses bloom
Over the grave of that fair time.
Up to that old and faded room,
Where feelings like fresh roses bloom
Over the grave of that fair time.
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