Songs Old and New ... Collected Edition [by Elizabeth Charles] |
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The Three Wakings, And Other Early Songs.
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 | Songs Old and New |  |
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The Three Wakings, And Other Early Songs.
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“THE THREE WAKINGS.”
[_]
Among the ancient Laplanders magic was an hereditary art. There were,
however, some magicians of a higher character, to whom, in three supernatural
sicknesses or trances—one in childhood, one in youth, and one in
manhood—the spirits themselves taught the secrets of the invisible world.
These were honoured by the whole nation as seers.
—Mone Geschichte des Heidenthums.
[_]
Among the ancient Laplanders magic was an hereditary art. There were, however, some magicians of a higher character, to whom, in three supernatural sicknesses or trances—one in childhood, one in youth, and one in manhood—the spirits themselves taught the secrets of the invisible world. These were honoured by the whole nation as seers. —Mone Geschichte des Heidenthums.
Argument.
—The poet-child plays on the margin of the river of Life. There the First Trance overpowers him. He awakens from it to the wonderful beauty of the universe. The magic boat bears him away from the broad stream of life to the regions of fancy. There the Second Trance overshadows him. In it he is aroused to the sense of duty and the necessity of work. He girds himself for the strife. In the flush of the triumph which succeeds it, he is overcome by the Third Trance. In it are revealed to him the grace of God, redemption, and the free service of love.
I.
Beside the ancient river
The infant poet played;
The grave old rocks above him
Laughed at the mirth he made.
The infant poet played;
The grave old rocks above him
Laughed at the mirth he made.
The boat that bore him thither
Lay idle on the shore,
His pearly boat that fast could float
Without or sail or oar.
Lay idle on the shore,
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Without or sail or oar.
The fresh young leaves on the hoar old trees
Quivered and fluttered in glee,
And the merry rills from the mighty hills
Shouted as loud as he.
Quivered and fluttered in glee,
And the merry rills from the mighty hills
Shouted as loud as he.
The birds poured joyous welcomes,
For they deemed him one of them;
And the snowdrop laughed in her quiet joy,
Till she shook on her delicate stem.
For they deemed him one of them;
And the snowdrop laughed in her quiet joy,
Till she shook on her delicate stem.
Broad is that ancient river,
And its depths no sailor knows;
It comes from a place no foot can trace,
'Mid the clouds and the ancient snows;
And its depths no sailor knows;
It comes from a place no foot can trace,
'Mid the clouds and the ancient snows;
And on its breast is bounding
Many a gallant bark;—
(Do they know that at last o'er a chasm vast
It leaps into the dark?)
Many a gallant bark;—
(Do they know that at last o'er a chasm vast
It leaps into the dark?)
But to the child its waters
Were his playmates glad and sweet,
Chasing each other merrily
To bathe his snowy feet;
Were his playmates glad and sweet,
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To bathe his snowy feet;
The starry hosts above him
Were the flowers of the sky,—
Too high, perhaps, to gather,
But too beautiful to die;
Were the flowers of the sky,—
Too high, perhaps, to gather,
But too beautiful to die;
The world with all its wonders,
Its heavens and its sea,
Was his play-room, full of play-mates,
Each one as glad as he.
Its heavens and its sea,
Was his play-room, full of play-mates,
Each one as glad as he.
But as he laughed and gambolled
Strange languor o'er him stole;
His eyes grew dim, and faint each limb,
And dark the sunny soul,
Strange languor o'er him stole;
His eyes grew dim, and faint each limb,
And dark the sunny soul,
Till the green earth in pity
Folded him to her breast,
And birds and waves and breezes
Lulled him to quiet rest.
Folded him to her breast,
And birds and waves and breezes
Lulled him to quiet rest.
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II.
Sweet Spring the earth was treading
When he broke that magic trance,
Rose from the ground, and gazed around
With a new and rapturous glance.
When he broke that magic trance,
Rose from the ground, and gazed around
With a new and rapturous glance.
Had the bright earth and heavens
Expanded as he slept,
That such a tide of light and joy
Around his senses swept?
Expanded as he slept,
That such a tide of light and joy
Around his senses swept?
Not a leaf nor a wing could quiver—
Not a breeze the waters moved,
But it thrilled through sense and spirit,
Like the voice of one beloved.
Not a breeze the waters moved,
But it thrilled through sense and spirit,
Like the voice of one beloved.
The sun in his robes of glory
From his depths of light on high—
Each lowly flower from its dewy bower,—
Beamed like a loving eye.
From his depths of light on high—
Each lowly flower from its dewy bower,—
Beamed like a loving eye.
He sate at the feet of Nature
In love and wonder meek;
Had he then learned to listen,
Or had she learned to speak?
In love and wonder meek;
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Or had she learned to speak?
The world was a royal palace,
And no stranger guest was he:
As the silvery fish in the silvery brook
Leaps in its wanton glee,
And no stranger guest was he:
As the silvery fish in the silvery brook
Leaps in its wanton glee,
As the lark in the air and sunshine
When the early mists are curled,—
His spirit bathed and revelled
In the beauty of the world.
When the early mists are curled,—
His spirit bathed and revelled
In the beauty of the world.
He sought not his joy to utter
He was content to see;
It was enough to listen—
It was enough to be!
He was content to see;
It was enough to listen—
It was enough to be!
He had rejoiced for ever
In this Eden to abide,
But the pearly boat began to float
Languidly down the tide.
In this Eden to abide,
But the pearly boat began to float
Languidly down the tide.
It left the ancient river
Where the great navies lay,
And glided up a quiet stream
From the din and strife away.
Where the great navies lay,
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From the din and strife away.
The waves its prow disparted
Made music as it went,
Like lyres and lutes and silvery flutes,
In sweet confusion blent;
Made music as it went,
Like lyres and lutes and silvery flutes,
In sweet confusion blent;
Till they came through a rocky portal
Roofed with many a gem,
(But one of the countless number
Had graced a diadem);
Roofed with many a gem,
(But one of the countless number
Had graced a diadem);
Into a world of wonders,
Where reigned nor sun nor moon,
But a magic light as still as night,
And warm as the softest noon.
Where reigned nor sun nor moon,
But a magic light as still as night,
And warm as the softest noon.
Onward and onward gliding
By those shores of wondrous things,
'Mid the murmur of dreamy voices,
And the waving of viewless wings;
By those shores of wondrous things,
'Mid the murmur of dreamy voices,
And the waving of viewless wings;
Beneath Aladdin's palace,
Where the gems lay thick as flowers,
And the languid day trickled away
Like the fountain 'midst leafy bowers;
Where the gems lay thick as flowers,
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Like the fountain 'midst leafy bowers;
Amidst the tangled woodland,
Where, in the chequered glade,
With wild but tuneful laughter,
The fairy people played;
Where, in the chequered glade,
With wild but tuneful laughter,
The fairy people played;
Beneath the cliffs he glided,
And the unclouded sky,
Where the stately Attic temple
Reared its white shafts on high;
And the unclouded sky,
Where the stately Attic temple
Reared its white shafts on high;
And kingly men and women,
The brave and wise and strong,
Earth's loftiest and sweetest souls,
Lived and made life a song;
The brave and wise and strong,
Earth's loftiest and sweetest souls,
Lived and made life a song;
Beneath the Northern forest,
Where the thunderbolts were made,
And spirits and gods and mighty men
Met in the mystic shade.
Where the thunderbolts were made,
And spirits and gods and mighty men
Met in the mystic shade.
And the hero and the poet
Smiled brotherly on him;
But again that languid slumber
Crept over soul and limb.
Smiled brotherly on him;
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Crept over soul and limb.
The weight of a first sorrow
Lay heavy on his breath,
And the fair world was shadowed o'er
With a darkness as of death;
Lay heavy on his breath,
And the fair world was shadowed o'er
With a darkness as of death;
And he longed for familiar voices
And the light of the common day,
And the common air on his fevered brow,
And the fields of his childish play;
And the light of the common day,
And the common air on his fevered brow,
And the fields of his childish play;
Till by a lonely islet
The vessel moored at last,
And he stept on the bank, and languidly sank
'Mid the graves of the great that were past.
The vessel moored at last,
And he stept on the bank, and languidly sank
'Mid the graves of the great that were past.
III.
He woke. The world of faëry,
With its soft and gorgeous light,
Was dissolved and gone, and he lay alone,
Beneath the solemn night;
With its soft and gorgeous light,
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Beneath the solemn night;
Beneath the hosts of heaven
In their grand reality;
'Mid the shadowy glooms of many tombs,
On the shores of a heaving sea.
In their grand reality;
'Mid the shadowy glooms of many tombs,
On the shores of a heaving sea.
A suit of polished armour
Lay glittering by his side;
Breastplate and casque and girdle,
And a sword of temper tried.
Lay glittering by his side;
Breastplate and casque and girdle,
And a sword of temper tried.
Furrows of inward conflict
On his brow were dented deep;
And he woke to a steadfast purpose
From the night of that awful sleep;
On his brow were dented deep;
And he woke to a steadfast purpose
From the night of that awful sleep;
For a strange and solemn Visitant
Beside his couch had been,
Clad in the old prophetic garb
And stern with the prophet's mien.
Beside his couch had been,
Clad in the old prophetic garb
And stern with the prophet's mien.
“What dost thou here?” she murmured;
“What is outshines what seems;
Earth has no room for idlers;
Life has no time for dreams.
“What is outshines what seems;
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Life has no time for dreams.
“Seest thou nought of suffering?
Knowest thou nought of sin?
Hast thou not heard the groans without,
Or felt the sting within?
Knowest thou nought of sin?
Hast thou not heard the groans without,
Or felt the sting within?
“Thy brethren die in prisons,—
Thy brethren toil in chains;
The body is racked by hunger,
And the heart has sharper pains.
Thy brethren toil in chains;
The body is racked by hunger,
And the heart has sharper pains.
“Gray heads 'neath the weight of labour
Are sinking into the grave;
And tender hearts are growing hard
For the want of a hand to save.
Are sinking into the grave;
And tender hearts are growing hard
For the want of a hand to save.
“Thousands of men, thy brethren,
Are perishing around;
And thou pourest out thy cup of life
Upon the barren ground.
Are perishing around;
And thou pourest out thy cup of life
Upon the barren ground.
“Rise, gird thee for true labour;
Rise, arm thee for the fight;
Go forth to earth's old battle-field;
Strike boldly for the right!
Rise, arm thee for the fight;
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Strike boldly for the right!
“Rise, cast thy dreamings from thee;
Rise, clothed with vigour new:
This fallen earth is no place for mirth;
Arise, go forth and do!”
Rise, clothed with vigour new:
This fallen earth is no place for mirth;
Arise, go forth and do!”
A thrill of fervent purpose
Through all his nature ran,
And from that sleep of visions deep
The Boy awoke a Man.
Through all his nature ran,
And from that sleep of visions deep
The Boy awoke a Man.
He trod with a steadfast aspect
Through beauty and weal and ill,
And his eyes were lit, and his frame was knit
By the strength of a fixëd will.
Through beauty and weal and ill,
And his eyes were lit, and his frame was knit
By the strength of a fixëd will.
And the sun to his strong purpose
Was but the lamp of life;
The abounding earth, in her beauty and mirth,
But the field of the mortal strife.
Was but the lamp of life;
The abounding earth, in her beauty and mirth,
But the field of the mortal strife.
Where the nations lay cold and torpid,
'Neath ages of wrong and shame,
With the patience of love the poet toiled
Till life to the stiff limbs came.
'Neath ages of wrong and shame,
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Till life to the stiff limbs came.
In the thick of the ancient battle,
Where the strong bear down the weak,
With the flaming swords of living words,
He fought for the poor and meek.
Where the strong bear down the weak,
With the flaming swords of living words,
He fought for the poor and meek.
Wherever were wrongs to be righted,
Or sick to be soothed and upheld;
Or a generous deed lay hidden,
Or a generous purpose quelled;
Or sick to be soothed and upheld;
Or a generous deed lay hidden,
Or a generous purpose quelled;
Or a noble heart lay sinking,
For the want of a cheering word;—
The music of his earnest voice
Above the din was heard;
For the want of a cheering word;—
The music of his earnest voice
Above the din was heard;
Till the sneer of scorn was silenced,
And the tongue of envy hushed,
And a tumult of wild, exulting praise
Throughout the nations rushed.
And the tongue of envy hushed,
And a tumult of wild, exulting praise
Throughout the nations rushed.
And they hailed him King and Hero,
And hasted his steps to greet;
And they crowned him with a golden crown,
And bowed beneath his feet.
And hasted his steps to greet;
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And bowed beneath his feet.
But yet once more the shadow
Over his soul was thrown,
And he on the height of his human might
Lay desolate and lone;
Over his soul was thrown,
And he on the height of his human might
Lay desolate and lone;
Till, in his helpless anguish,
His spirit turned on high,
And he called on the God of his childhood
With a loud and bitter cry:
His spirit turned on high,
And he called on the God of his childhood
With a loud and bitter cry:
“O God, they call me Hero,
And bow the reverent knee;
But I am not God, nor a godlike man,
That thus they kneel to me.
And bow the reverent knee;
But I am not God, nor a godlike man,
That thus they kneel to me.
“They call me Lord and Master;
They call me just and good;
And I cannot stay my failing breath,
Nor do the things I would.
They call me just and good;
And I cannot stay my failing breath,
Nor do the things I would.
“They cry on me for succour,
But in me is no might to save;
They hail me as one immortal,
And I sink into the grave.
But in me is no might to save;
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And I sink into the grave.
“Thou—only Thou—art Holy;
With Thee, with Thee, is might;
O stay me with Thy love and strength,
O clothe me with Thy light!”
With Thee, with Thee, is might;
O stay me with Thy love and strength,
O clothe me with Thy light!”
IV.
It was no spell of slumber
Which came upon him then,
No fitful gleams of a land of dreams
Which burst on his dazzled ken;
Which came upon him then,
No fitful gleams of a land of dreams
Which burst on his dazzled ken;
But he stood upon the borders
Of the land which we see afar,
Where earth's firmest ground dissolves away,
And men see things as they are.
Of the land which we see afar,
Where earth's firmest ground dissolves away,
And men see things as they are.
He saw a young child standing
In a famine-stricken land,
Intrusted with a bounteous store,
The gifts of a gracious hand.
In a famine-stricken land,
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The gifts of a gracious hand.
He saw it scatter its treasures
In idle and thankless waste;
And when from its idlesse startled,
It gave away the rest,
In idle and thankless waste;
And when from its idlesse startled,
It gave away the rest,
And the grateful people hastened
To garland its guilty head,—
It took the homage as its due,
Then cried like the rest for bread.
To garland its guilty head,—
It took the homage as its due,
Then cried like the rest for bread.
And stung with shame and anguish,
He cried, “It is I; it is I;
Father, forgive, forgive my sin!”
And he cried with a bitter cry.
He cried, “It is I; it is I;
Father, forgive, forgive my sin!”
And he cried with a bitter cry.
That cry reached the heart of the Father:
Once more he looked on high,
And in the depths of heaven,—
In the calm of the upper sky,—
Once more he looked on high,
And in the depths of heaven,—
In the calm of the upper sky,—
He saw 'midst the sea of glory,—
A glory surpassing bright,
One crowned with a Crown of Inheritance,
Clad in unborrowed light.
A glory surpassing bright,
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Clad in unborrowed light.
He saw Him leave the glory,
And lay aside the crown,
And to that land of famine
Come, touched with pity, down;
And lay aside the crown,
And to that land of famine
Come, touched with pity, down;
And gird Himself for service,
And minister to all:
No service was for Him too mean,
No care of love too small.
And minister to all:
No service was for Him too mean,
No care of love too small.
But men paid Him no homage,
They crowned Him with no crown;
And the dying bed they made for Him
Was not a bed of down.
They crowned Him with no crown;
And the dying bed they made for Him
Was not a bed of down.
What more then met his vision
Falls dimly on mortal ears;
The angels were mute with wonder,
And the poet with grateful tears.
Falls dimly on mortal ears;
The angels were mute with wonder,
And the poet with grateful tears.
The rebel will was broken,
The captive heart was free,—
“O Lord of all, who servedst all,
Let me Thy servant be!”
The captive heart was free,—
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Let me Thy servant be!”
He woke: once more he found him
In the home where he played a child;
His mother held his feverish hand,
His sisters wept and smiled.
In the home where he played a child;
His mother held his feverish hand,
His sisters wept and smiled.
He loved them more than ever,
With a pure and fervent love;
He loved God's sun and earth and skies,
Though his home lay far above.
With a pure and fervent love;
He loved God's sun and earth and skies,
Though his home lay far above.
His poet's crown lay near him
Fused to a golden cup;
It would carry water for parched lips,
So he thankfully took it up.
Fused to a golden cup;
It would carry water for parched lips,
So he thankfully took it up.
He went in the strength of dependence
To tread where his Master trod,
To gather and knit together
The family of God:
To tread where his Master trod,
To gather and knit together
The family of God:
Awhile as a heaven-born stranger
To pass through this world of sin,
With a heart diffusing the balm of peace
From the place of peace within;
To pass through this world of sin,
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From the place of peace within;
With a conscience freed from burdens,
And a heart set free from care,
To minister to every one
Always and everywhere.
And a heart set free from care,
To minister to every one
Always and everywhere.
No more on the heights of glory
A lonely man he stood;
Around him gathered tenderly
A lowly brotherhood.
A lonely man he stood;
Around him gathered tenderly
A lowly brotherhood.
They spent their lives for others,
Yet the world knew them not;
It had not known their Master,—
And they sought no higher lot.
Yet the world knew them not;
It had not known their Master,—
And they sought no higher lot.
But the angels of heaven knew them,
And He knew them Who died and rose;
And the poet knew that the lowest place
Was that which the Highest chose.
And He knew them Who died and rose;
And the poet knew that the lowest place
Was that which the Highest chose.
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THE THREE TRANCES.
(ANOTHER READING OF THE VISIONS OF THE NORTHERN SEER.)
I was a glad and sunny child,
And in the fount of life
Which, gushing from its hidden cave
In many a clear and sparkling wave,
Each with sweet music rife,
Wells in the morning sunlight up
E'en to its stony brim,
Dropping into each flowery cup
That trembles on the rim,
Thence trickling through the long soft grass
That springs up green where'er it pass,
(E'en from the stones it lives among
Ringing a clear and hearty song,
Each joyous chime and merry burst
As fresh and glad as 'twere the first),
I bathed, and quenched my healthy thirst,
Until my heart grew wild.
I bounded o'er the bounding turf,
I shouted to the shouting surf,
I laughed with the merry streams;
My playmates were the birds and bees,
The noisy wind, the whispering breeze,
And changeful summer gleams.
And in the fount of life
Which, gushing from its hidden cave
In many a clear and sparkling wave,
Each with sweet music rife,
Wells in the morning sunlight up
E'en to its stony brim,
Dropping into each flowery cup
That trembles on the rim,
Thence trickling through the long soft grass
That springs up green where'er it pass,
(E'en from the stones it lives among
Ringing a clear and hearty song,
Each joyous chime and merry burst
As fresh and glad as 'twere the first),
I bathed, and quenched my healthy thirst,
Until my heart grew wild.
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I shouted to the shouting surf,
I laughed with the merry streams;
My playmates were the birds and bees,
The noisy wind, the whispering breeze,
And changeful summer gleams.
And in the still and sultry hours,
When Nature drooped and was sad,
Weary with thirst and heat,
The tread of my light feet
Was cool and musical,
As when, at evening, fall
Drop by drop in lonely pools the summer showers,
And the desert looked up and was glad.
I strove with the maddened storm,
I leapt the crag with the waterfall;
For the blood in my veins was warm,
And storms, and streams, and gleams, and all
The mighty creatures of the wild,
In their fierce exulting play,
They welcomed me
To their company,
And they laughed to see a little child
As strong and as glad as they.
Then a shadow came before my eyes,
And a weight upon my heart,
And my breath came slow,
Laden with heavy sighs;
And one I did not know
Ever to me
Clung wearily,
And whispered that we never more should part.
When Nature drooped and was sad,
Weary with thirst and heat,
The tread of my light feet
Was cool and musical,
As when, at evening, fall
Drop by drop in lonely pools the summer showers,
And the desert looked up and was glad.
I strove with the maddened storm,
I leapt the crag with the waterfall;
For the blood in my veins was warm,
And storms, and streams, and gleams, and all
The mighty creatures of the wild,
In their fierce exulting play,
They welcomed me
To their company,
And they laughed to see a little child
As strong and as glad as they.
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And a weight upon my heart,
And my breath came slow,
Laden with heavy sighs;
And one I did not know
Ever to me
Clung wearily,
And whispered that we never more should part.
And on the crags where I was wont to stand
He dragged me downward with a heavy hand;
And on the mountains, where I used to be
As mountain breezes free,
He came, and then my steps fell heavily.
And in the forest glad and lone,
Where winds and ancient trees,
And the torrent and the breeze,
Had talked to me as to a fellow of their own,
His heavy breath my voice would choke,
His wings would cloud my spirit o'er,
I could not answer when they spoke,
And I was of their fellowship no more.
The waters laughed—I could not laugh;
In their ancient dwelling
Nature's founts were welling,
Life-giving as of old, but not for me to quaff.
For ever he would bide
By my side,
And 'neath his heavy tread the springs were dried.
He dragged me downward with a heavy hand;
And on the mountains, where I used to be
As mountain breezes free,
He came, and then my steps fell heavily.
And in the forest glad and lone,
Where winds and ancient trees,
And the torrent and the breeze,
Had talked to me as to a fellow of their own,
His heavy breath my voice would choke,
His wings would cloud my spirit o'er,
I could not answer when they spoke,
And I was of their fellowship no more.
The waters laughed—I could not laugh;
In their ancient dwelling
Nature's founts were welling,
Life-giving as of old, but not for me to quaff.
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By my side,
And 'neath his heavy tread the springs were dried.
From crag to crag the torrent sprung,
Ever young.
My step had lost its spring,
The young winds sang their wonted song
The flowers among,
A song I might not sing.
Ever young.
My step had lost its spring,
The young winds sang their wonted song
The flowers among,
A song I might not sing.
The ocean and the stormy winter weather
Played their wild play together
As of old.
I could not play, and grew to dread the storm,—
The blood in Nature's veins was warm,
Mine ran cold.
Played their wild play together
As of old.
I could not play, and grew to dread the storm,—
The blood in Nature's veins was warm,
Mine ran cold.
And when in noontide hours of weariness
Nature had laid her down to sleep
In the solitude,
My step no more awoke the wilderness,
My voice no more her parchëd heart could steep
With life and good,
Like fountains gushing in a thirsty place;
Nature no more was glad to see my face,
For I was faint and sad as she,
And wheresoe'er my steps I bent,
Ever with me that Dark One went
With heavy footsteps wearily.
He drank my cup of life till it was dry,
He weighed upon my heart till it grew cold;
He touched my eyelids hot and heavily,
And nothing smiled as it had smiled of old.
Nature had laid her down to sleep
In the solitude,
My step no more awoke the wilderness,
My voice no more her parchëd heart could steep
With life and good,
Like fountains gushing in a thirsty place;
Nature no more was glad to see my face,
For I was faint and sad as she,
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Ever with me that Dark One went
With heavy footsteps wearily.
He drank my cup of life till it was dry,
He weighed upon my heart till it grew cold;
He touched my eyelids hot and heavily,
And nothing smiled as it had smiled of old.
I laid me down upon a woodland bank,
Where the breath of spring came slow in languid sighs,
And smiles on me
Beamed tearfully
From out the tender depths of violet eyes;
My heart within me sank.
I laid me down upon the bank and wept;
A sleep, which was not sleep, came o'er my soul:
Men mourned to see my light of life thus fade;
They knew not that the Ancient One
That shadow o'er my soul had thrown,
That He might commune with me in the shade.
That cloud of sleep around my sense did roll,
That He might come to me in visions as I slept.
They knew not that my sleep had dreams—
Dreams to which all that seem most real beside
Are but as lights in restless waves that glide,
The changeful image of most changeful gleams.
Where the breath of spring came slow in languid sighs,
And smiles on me
Beamed tearfully
From out the tender depths of violet eyes;
My heart within me sank.
I laid me down upon the bank and wept;
A sleep, which was not sleep, came o'er my soul:
Men mourned to see my light of life thus fade;
They knew not that the Ancient One
That shadow o'er my soul had thrown,
That He might commune with me in the shade.
That cloud of sleep around my sense did roll,
That He might come to me in visions as I slept.
They knew not that my sleep had dreams—
Dreams to which all that seem most real beside
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The changeful image of most changeful gleams.
For life is one long sleep,
O'er which in gusts do sweep
Visions of heaven;
The body but a closëd lid,
By which the real world is hid
From the spirit slumbering dark below;
And all our earthly strife and woe,
Tossings in slumber to and fro;
And all we know of heaven and light
In visions of the day or night
To us is given.
O'er which in gusts do sweep
Visions of heaven;
The body but a closëd lid,
By which the real world is hid
From the spirit slumbering dark below;
And all our earthly strife and woe,
Tossings in slumber to and fro;
And all we know of heaven and light
In visions of the day or night
To us is given.
I talked with the Ancient One
In that mysterious seeming slumber;
Nor yet with Him alone,
But blessed spirits without number,
Who crowd around His throne,
And loud and clear the tide of praises swell;—
Nor only in that lofty sphere they dwell,
But round His children throng,
Invisibly ever,
And pour their glorious song,
Though audible never,
Save when at evening, in the solitude,
When not a breeze has stirred,
A quiver thrills through all the silent wood;
Can it have heard?
O what a drunkenness of joy my soul doth steep
With thought of the unuttered visions of that sleep!
In that mysterious seeming slumber;
Nor yet with Him alone,
But blessed spirits without number,
Who crowd around His throne,
And loud and clear the tide of praises swell;—
Nor only in that lofty sphere they dwell,
But round His children throng,
Invisibly ever,
And pour their glorious song,
Though audible never,
313
When not a breeze has stirred,
A quiver thrills through all the silent wood;
Can it have heard?
O what a drunkenness of joy my soul doth steep
With thought of the unuttered visions of that sleep!
And I have been since then
A prophet amongst men:
They honour me as one whose eyes
Have looked upon the mysteries
Of the true world where spirits dwell,
To whom the great book is unrolled.
O! if thus reverently they deem
Of the poor fragments of that dream
Which can in human words be told,
What would they think of that I cannot tell?
A prophet amongst men:
They honour me as one whose eyes
Have looked upon the mysteries
Of the true world where spirits dwell,
To whom the great book is unrolled.
O! if thus reverently they deem
Of the poor fragments of that dream
Which can in human words be told,
What would they think of that I cannot tell?
And when that awful slumber broke,
He who so long of late
Was my associate
No longer closely in my pathway stood,
But in the sky,
Heavily,
Like a thunder-cloud with dusky wings did brood,
And to something of my former life I woke.
He who so long of late
Was my associate
No longer closely in my pathway stood,
But in the sky,
Heavily,
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And to something of my former life I woke.
The sunny laugh, the spring-tide sigh,
The blood-full vein,
The bounding step, the beaming eye,
Came not again;
Joys that too quickly came and fled,
To find a name.
The tears that started in my eye,
I knew not whence,
And ere I could have questioned why
Were from hence,—
The heart that danced amongst the forms of spring,
Like them a joyous growing thing,—
These came not; yet to me were brought
A thousand joys too deep for thought:
For unto the suffering one
God sent a joy of His own;
And the storm and the solitude
Again unto my soul were good,
For ever in the silence and the din
The unseen spirits talked to mine within.
The blood-full vein,
The bounding step, the beaming eye,
Came not again;
Joys that too quickly came and fled,
To find a name.
The tears that started in my eye,
I knew not whence,
And ere I could have questioned why
Were from hence,—
The heart that danced amongst the forms of spring,
Like them a joyous growing thing,—
These came not; yet to me were brought
A thousand joys too deep for thought:
For unto the suffering one
God sent a joy of His own;
And the storm and the solitude
Again unto my soul were good,
For ever in the silence and the din
The unseen spirits talked to mine within.
Yet on my pathway evermore
That heavy cloud doth darkly lower,
Like thunder-laden air,
Damping each transient thought of mirth,
Weighing my energies to earth,
A burden hard to bear.
That heavy cloud doth darkly lower,
Like thunder-laden air,
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Weighing my energies to earth,
A burden hard to bear.
And sometimes when I've seen
My brothers dancing round
With strength's exulting bound,
Impatiently my heart would pray
That I might be even as they,
Even as I had been;
But then some gentle sprite would hover by,
And breathe a high and cheering word,
Such as the heart's deep waters stirred,
And all my grief would melt in ecstasy.
Nor only 'neath the cloud,
By suffering, is my spirit bowed,
But with too great a weight of glory,
As with long years my head is hoary,
This feeble frame dissolves away,
Before the blaze of that full day;
Life, breathing with too strong a breath,
Will crush this body into death.
My brothers dancing round
With strength's exulting bound,
Impatiently my heart would pray
That I might be even as they,
Even as I had been;
But then some gentle sprite would hover by,
And breathe a high and cheering word,
Such as the heart's deep waters stirred,
And all my grief would melt in ecstasy.
Nor only 'neath the cloud,
By suffering, is my spirit bowed,
But with too great a weight of glory,
As with long years my head is hoary,
This feeble frame dissolves away,
Before the blaze of that full day;
Life, breathing with too strong a breath,
Will crush this body into death.
And twice again that wondrous guest
Hath come close to my side as of old;
Hath laid his heavy hand upon my breast,
Until my blood ran cold;
Hath hid with stifling breath again
The light of life from me;
Hath bound me with a threefold chain
That draggeth heavily,—
All my raptured soul to steep
In the sleep which is not sleep.
To me he is no more unknown,
His face has all familiar grown,
And dearer than the blessed sun,
For with him comes the Ancient One.
Hath come close to my side as of old;
Hath laid his heavy hand upon my breast,
Until my blood ran cold;
316
The light of life from me;
Hath bound me with a threefold chain
That draggeth heavily,—
All my raptured soul to steep
In the sleep which is not sleep.
To me he is no more unknown,
His face has all familiar grown,
And dearer than the blessed sun,
For with him comes the Ancient One.
O, come to me once more!
Shadow my spirit o'er.
Three times thy hand hath been on me
Heavily;
Come with yet heavier grasp, and crush
This frame to dust.
Three times thy breath hath dimmed my light
Into night;
Come and breathe on it mightily,
Till it die.
Three times the cloud of sleep o'er my soul
Thou didst roll;
Come now, and fix the shadow there,
Let me sleep e'er,
That I may dream those visions o'er
Evermore.
Nay; with loud voice this slumber break,
That I may wake,
And be with the Ancient One
By His throne.
Come now, and with no feeble hand,
Strain thy band,
Until this heavy veil be riven,
Which shuts my spirit from the light;
Come, Strong One, bear my soul to heaven,
And crush this lid which shrouds my sight;
I care not what the anguish be,
So I be free;
Come, choke this slow and labouring breath,
And I will bless thee, Death.
Shadow my spirit o'er.
Three times thy hand hath been on me
Heavily;
Come with yet heavier grasp, and crush
This frame to dust.
Three times thy breath hath dimmed my light
Into night;
Come and breathe on it mightily,
Till it die.
Three times the cloud of sleep o'er my soul
Thou didst roll;
Come now, and fix the shadow there,
Let me sleep e'er,
317
Evermore.
Nay; with loud voice this slumber break,
That I may wake,
And be with the Ancient One
By His throne.
Come now, and with no feeble hand,
Strain thy band,
Until this heavy veil be riven,
Which shuts my spirit from the light;
Come, Strong One, bear my soul to heaven,
And crush this lid which shrouds my sight;
I care not what the anguish be,
So I be free;
Come, choke this slow and labouring breath,
And I will bless thee, Death.
1845.
318
THE FORGET-ME-NOT.
She dwelt in the greenwood,
A spring gushing near,
No fairy queen could
Queenlier fare.
A spring gushing near,
No fairy queen could
Queenlier fare.
Bees knew her caskets;
Bold friars gray
Filling their baskets,—
“For the convent,” said they.
Bold friars gray
Filling their baskets,—
“For the convent,” said they.
Butterfly vagrants
Gossiped there long;
Winds brought her fragrance,
Birds brought her song.
Gossiped there long;
Winds brought her fragrance,
Birds brought her song.
Leaves rustling o'er her
Let the light through;
The blithe stream would pour her
Draughts of sweet dew.
Let the light through;
The blithe stream would pour her
Draughts of sweet dew.
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O'er her so clearly
The warm heavens smiled;
They all loved her dearly,
The forest's fair child.
The warm heavens smiled;
They all loved her dearly,
The forest's fair child.
Thus passed her childhood
Dreamily by,
By the fount in the wild wood,
'Neath the blue sky.
Dreamily by,
By the fount in the wild wood,
'Neath the blue sky.
The kind sun above her,
Stream, bird, and wind,
She knew not they loved her,
Knew they were kind.
Stream, bird, and wind,
She knew not they loved her,
Knew they were kind.
Till one day gazing
In the fount pure and cold,
A vision amazing
She saw there unfold.
In the fount pure and cold,
A vision amazing
She saw there unfold.
A blue eye soft beaming
Met her blue eye,
A golden star gleaming,
A miniature sky.
Met her blue eye,
A golden star gleaming,
A miniature sky.
Calm the waves under
The fair vision lay;
Lost in sweet wonder,
She gazed there all day:
The fair vision lay;
320
She gazed there all day:
Saw not the heaven,
Heard not the breeze.
Till the soft even
Shadowed the trees.
Heard not the breeze.
Till the soft even
Shadowed the trees.
The stars still were shining,
But they seemed far,
While she lay pining
For her lost star.
But they seemed far,
While she lay pining
For her lost star.
The gentle leaves rustling,
The night-winds' soft stir,
Seemed harsh and bustling,
Strange voices to her.
The night-winds' soft stir,
Seemed harsh and bustling,
Strange voices to her.
Not heaven's smile moved her,
Nor the stream's old kind tone;
'Mid so many that loved her,
She wept there alone:
Nor the stream's old kind tone;
'Mid so many that loved her,
She wept there alone:
Till, the shadows dispersing,
The Sun rose anew,
The high forest piercing,
Pierced her heart through.
The Sun rose anew,
The high forest piercing,
Pierced her heart through.
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Her dewy eyes raising,
He met them and smiled,
The eye of heaven gazing
On her, heaven's child.
He met them and smiled,
The eye of heaven gazing
On her, heaven's child.
For the lost dream was given
The Truth brighter far,
The blue loving heaven,
The Sun for the star.
The Truth brighter far,
The blue loving heaven,
The Sun for the star.
Then all voices moved her:
The trees grave and tall,
The deep sky above her,
The blithe insects small,
She loved them each one,
For they all loved the Sun,
And the Sun loved them all.
The trees grave and tall,
The deep sky above her,
The blithe insects small,
She loved them each one,
For they all loved the Sun,
And the Sun loved them all.
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MAY SONG.
All the world is up and stirring,
Birds are warbling, insects whirring,
Striving in harmonious strife
Which can catch and drink the more
Of the crystal fount of life
Which around is bubbling o'er.
Birds are warbling, insects whirring,
Striving in harmonious strife
Which can catch and drink the more
Of the crystal fount of life
Which around is bubbling o'er.
For May came by upon a day
When the Earth, spell-bound in sleep,
Like the Sleeping Beauty lay,
Sunk in magic slumbers deep;
Came and kissed her marble cheek,
And the icy spell was broken:
Words which ages could not speak
In this burst of life are spoken;
And the Palace, still so long,
Breaks into a flood of song.
When the Earth, spell-bound in sleep,
Like the Sleeping Beauty lay,
Sunk in magic slumbers deep;
Came and kissed her marble cheek,
And the icy spell was broken:
Words which ages could not speak
In this burst of life are spoken;
And the Palace, still so long,
Breaks into a flood of song.
Air around and skies above
Seem one flood of life and love;
Every flower and leaf a sense,
Drinking life and rapture thence:
Nature all one glorious Psalm,
We all nerve responsive thrilling;
She a tree of Gilead's balm,
Into weary hearts distilling;
She all light and melody,
We all sense to hear and see.
Seem one flood of life and love;
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Drinking life and rapture thence:
Nature all one glorious Psalm,
We all nerve responsive thrilling;
She a tree of Gilead's balm,
Into weary hearts distilling;
She all light and melody,
We all sense to hear and see.
With a fresh and happy sound
Forth the infant river wells,
Striking on the pebbles round
Merry peals of fairy bells;
Leaping up in showers of spray,
Parts the pure uncoloured light
Into many a threadlet bright;
Broidering its garments white,
Flashing gems from every ray.
Perfumes fresh and soft and clear
Sail along the limpid air;
Birds are singing, fish are springing,
Grass is growing, water flowing,
All the world awake and stirring;
And shall I be idly hearing,
While my heart thus glows with love,
And my soul o'erflows with life,
And my spirit yearns to prove
She could bravely strive her strife?
Music only in my heart;
Lord, give me some choral part!
Give this lisping heart a word—
Word that may be felt and heard;
I would rise and praise thee too—
Lord, let me go forth and do!
Forth the infant river wells,
Striking on the pebbles round
Merry peals of fairy bells;
Leaping up in showers of spray,
Parts the pure uncoloured light
Into many a threadlet bright;
Broidering its garments white,
Flashing gems from every ray.
Perfumes fresh and soft and clear
Sail along the limpid air;
Birds are singing, fish are springing,
Grass is growing, water flowing,
All the world awake and stirring;
And shall I be idly hearing,
While my heart thus glows with love,
And my soul o'erflows with life,
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She could bravely strive her strife?
Music only in my heart;
Lord, give me some choral part!
Give this lisping heart a word—
Word that may be felt and heard;
I would rise and praise thee too—
Lord, let me go forth and do!
Then an answer silver clear
Fell upon my inward ear:—
“Hush, impatient heart, be still;
Restless waters break the light,
Shivering faith's deep mystery
Into fancy's prisms bright;
Breaking that by which we see
To a show for vulgar sight.
See that deep blue violet flower
Bend the quickening waters o'er;
Eagerly they sparkle up,
Dropping in her open cup,
While she in her quiet eye
Drinks the colours of the sky.
Such the faithful heart should be,
Feeding on Nature silently,
Drinking her spring-tide light and song;
That holy food shall make it strong—
On earth a heavenly star to shine,
True mirror of the life divine.
So thy life shall be a voice,
Speaking words best heard above,
Bidding weary souls rejoice,
Waking palsied hearts to love.”
Fell upon my inward ear:—
“Hush, impatient heart, be still;
Restless waters break the light,
Shivering faith's deep mystery
Into fancy's prisms bright;
Breaking that by which we see
To a show for vulgar sight.
See that deep blue violet flower
Bend the quickening waters o'er;
Eagerly they sparkle up,
Dropping in her open cup,
While she in her quiet eye
Drinks the colours of the sky.
Such the faithful heart should be,
Feeding on Nature silently,
325
That holy food shall make it strong—
On earth a heavenly star to shine,
True mirror of the life divine.
So thy life shall be a voice,
Speaking words best heard above,
Bidding weary souls rejoice,
Waking palsied hearts to love.”
May 1846.
326
THE NORTHERN SPRING.
Mighty Thor has gone to battle
With the giants of the Frost;
In his god-like strength contending,
Single-handed, 'gainst a host.
With the giants of the Frost;
In his god-like strength contending,
Single-handed, 'gainst a host.
Heard ye not the clash and clamour,
Wind with wind in deadly stife;
Battle-cries and roar of conflicts,
Where the Dark Ones fought for life?
Wind with wind in deadly stife;
Battle-cries and roar of conflicts,
Where the Dark Ones fought for life?
Heard ye not the great Miölner
Thundering o'er the din of war;
Striking lightning from the storm-cloud?—
Dreadful in his wrath is Thor!
Thundering o'er the din of war;
Striking lightning from the storm-cloud?—
Dreadful in his wrath is Thor!
Then the strong ones fled in terror;
Henceforth fear we not their worst;
For their giant strength is broken,
And their icy chains are burst.
Henceforth fear we not their worst;
For their giant strength is broken,
And their icy chains are burst.
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Joy to all! great Thor hath triumphed;
Victory and light are won;
And the victor doffs his armour,
Girding robes of triumph on.
Victory and light are won;
And the victor doffs his armour,
Girding robes of triumph on.
Hail him in the joy of triumph,
Gazing in his love and pride
Where, in trembling mists infolded,
Beams his own enfranchised bride!
Gazing in his love and pride
Where, in trembling mists infolded,
Beams his own enfranchised bride!
And the streams his blows unfettered,
Greet him with the dance and song:
Beautiful is Thor in triumph,
As in battle he is strong.
Greet him with the dance and song:
Beautiful is Thor in triumph,
As in battle he is strong.
Beautiful art thou, O Nature!
Glorious art thou, O Sun!
Many are the names we call you,
Yet the homage is but one.
Glorious art thou, O Sun!
Many are the names we call you,
Yet the homage is but one.
Hearts o'erflowing into worship,
With the sense that ye are fraught
With a Presence and a Purpose
Passing human word or thought;
With the sense that ye are fraught
With a Presence and a Purpose
Passing human word or thought;
Thinking of the Hand that made you,
Makes and keeps you so divine;
Every stone becomes an altar,
Every blade of grass a shrine;
Makes and keeps you so divine;
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Every blade of grass a shrine;
Worlds of art in every insect,
Miracles in every clod:
For beyond man's master-pieces
Is the simplest work of God.
Miracles in every clod:
For beyond man's master-pieces
Is the simplest work of God.
1846.
329
A JOURNEY ON THE SOUTH-DEVON RAILWAY.
The young oak casts its delicate shadow
Over the still and emerald meadow;
The sheep are cropping the fresh spring grass,
And never raise their heads as we pass;
The cattle are taking their noon-day rest,
And chewing the cud with a lazy zest,
Or bathing their feet in the reedy pool
Switch their tails in the shadows cool;
But away, away, we may not stay,
Panting and puffing, and snorting and starting,
And shrieking and crying, and madly flying,
On and on, there's a race to be run and a goal to be won ere the set of the sun.
Over the still and emerald meadow;
The sheep are cropping the fresh spring grass,
And never raise their heads as we pass;
The cattle are taking their noon-day rest,
And chewing the cud with a lazy zest,
Or bathing their feet in the reedy pool
Switch their tails in the shadows cool;
But away, away, we may not stay,
Panting and puffing, and snorting and starting,
And shrieking and crying, and madly flying,
On and on, there's a race to be run and a goal to be won ere the set of the sun.
Two white clouds are poised on high,
Sunning their wings in the azure sky;
Two white swans float to and fro
Languidly in the stream below;
As it sleeps beneath a beechwood tall,
Clouds, and swans, and trees, and all,
Image themselves in the quiet stream,
Passing their lives in a sunny dream;
But away, away, we may not stay,
Panting and puffing, and snorting and starting,
And shrieking and crying, and madly flying,
On and on, there's a race to be run and a goal to be won ere the set of the sun.
Sunning their wings in the azure sky;
Two white swans float to and fro
Languidly in the stream below;
330
Clouds, and swans, and trees, and all,
Image themselves in the quiet stream,
Passing their lives in a sunny dream;
But away, away, we may not stay,
Panting and puffing, and snorting and starting,
And shrieking and crying, and madly flying,
On and on, there's a race to be run and a goal to be won ere the set of the sun.
Under the tall cliffs, green and deep
The ocean rests in its mid-day sleep;
The waves are heaving lazily
Where the purple sea-weeds float;
Sunbeams cross on the distant sea,
Specked by the sail of the fisher's boat;
But away, away, we may not stay,
Panting and puffing, and snorting and starting,
And shrieking and crying, and madly flying,
On and on, there's a race to be run and a goal to be won ere the set of the sun.
The ocean rests in its mid-day sleep;
The waves are heaving lazily
Where the purple sea-weeds float;
Sunbeams cross on the distant sea,
Specked by the sail of the fisher's boat;
But away, away, we may not stay,
Panting and puffing, and snorting and starting,
And shrieking and crying, and madly flying,
On and on, there's a race to be run and a goal to be won ere the set of the sun.
Into the deep dell's still retreat,
Where the river rushes beneath our feet,
Skirting the base of moorland hills,
By the side of rocky rills,
Where the wild-bird bathes and plumes its wing,
Where the fields are fresh with the breath of spring,
Where the earth is hushed in her noon-day prayer,
No place so secret but we come there.
On nature's mid-day sleep we break,
And are miles away ere her echoes wake;
We startle the wood-nymphs in their play,
And ere they can hide are away, away!
Away, away, we may not stay,
Panting and puffing, and snorting and starting,
And shrieking and crying, and madly flying,
On and on, there's a race to be run and a goal to be won ere the set of the sun.
Where the river rushes beneath our feet,
Skirting the base of moorland hills,
By the side of rocky rills,
331
Where the fields are fresh with the breath of spring,
Where the earth is hushed in her noon-day prayer,
No place so secret but we come there.
On nature's mid-day sleep we break,
And are miles away ere her echoes wake;
We startle the wood-nymphs in their play,
And ere they can hide are away, away!
Away, away, we may not stay,
Panting and puffing, and snorting and starting,
And shrieking and crying, and madly flying,
On and on, there's a race to be run and a goal to be won ere the set of the sun.
332
BABY ALICE.
Baby Alice, Baby Alice,
Is thy soul a beam of light,
That it twinkleth through thy dark eyes
So witching and so bright?
Is thy soul a beam of light,
That it twinkleth through thy dark eyes
So witching and so bright?
Our song-bird, and our rosebud,
Our sunshine every day;
One such flower makes a summer,
One such bird makes a May.
Our sunshine every day;
One such flower makes a summer,
One such bird makes a May.
Our fairy-queen of frolic,
Whose smiles are magic treasures;
Our singing-tree and talking-bird,
Our golden fount of pleasures.
Whose smiles are magic treasures;
Our singing-tree and talking-bird,
Our golden fount of pleasures.
Our rose, our pearl, our dew-drop,
Our dayspring, and our star;
All sweet names on thee we lavish,
And find thee sweeter far.
Our dayspring, and our star;
All sweet names on thee we lavish,
And find thee sweeter far.
333
What sound can have such music
As thy sudden laughter bright?
What words can have such meaning
As thy murmurs of delight?
As thy sudden laughter bright?
What words can have such meaning
As thy murmurs of delight?
Baby Alice, Baby Alice,
Better than beams of light
Is thy spirit, for it cometh
From the Fountain of all light.
Better than beams of light
Is thy spirit, for it cometh
From the Fountain of all light.
May Christ be with thee, darling,
Hallowing thy youth's glad feast,
Thy cup of life transforming
To a Blessed Eucharist.
Hallowing thy youth's glad feast,
Thy cup of life transforming
To a Blessed Eucharist.
He will be with thee, darling,
Guarding from sins and harms;
For He blessed all they brought to Him,
And we laid thee in His arms.
Guarding from sins and harms;
For He blessed all they brought to Him,
And we laid thee in His arms.
334
TO OUR AMERICAN COUSINS.
One people in our early prime,
One in our stormy youth;
Drinking one stream of human thought,
One spring of heavenly truth;
One in our stormy youth;
Drinking one stream of human thought,
One spring of heavenly truth;
One language at our mother's knee,
One in our Saviour's prayer,—
One glorious heritage is ours;
One future let us share.
One in our Saviour's prayer,—
One glorious heritage is ours;
One future let us share.
The heroes of our days of old
Are yours, not ours alone;
Your Christian heroes of to-day,
We love them as our own.
Are yours, not ours alone;
Your Christian heroes of to-day,
We love them as our own.
There are too many homeless lands,
Far in the wild free West,
To be subdued for God and man,
Replenished and possest;—
Far in the wild free West,
To be subdued for God and man,
Replenished and possest;—
335
There are too many fallen men,
Far in the ancient East,
To be won back to truth and God,
From cramping bonds released;
Far in the ancient East,
To be won back to truth and God,
From cramping bonds released;
There is too much good work to do,
And wrong to be undone;
Too many strongholds from the foe
Yet must be forced and won;—
And wrong to be undone;
Too many strongholds from the foe
Yet must be forced and won;—
That we whom God hath set to be
The vanguard of the fight,
To bear the standard of His truth,
And to defend the right,
The vanguard of the fight,
To bear the standard of His truth,
And to defend the right,
Should leave the mission of our race,
So high, and wide, and great,
On petty points of precedence
To wrangle and debate;—
So high, and wide, and great,
On petty points of precedence
To wrangle and debate;—
That blustering words of little men
(With poisonous venom rife),
Who must be angry to be heard,
Should stir us up to strife.
(With poisonous venom rife),
Who must be angry to be heard,
Should stir us up to strife.
Nay! side by side in East and West,
In wild or heathen lands,
One prayer upon our hearts and lips,
One Bible in our hands.
In wild or heathen lands,
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One Bible in our hands.
One in our earliest home on earth,
One in our heavenly home,
We'll fight the battles of our King,
Until His kingdom come.
One in our heavenly home,
We'll fight the battles of our King,
Until His kingdom come.
March 1862.
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ITALY.
1848.
Italia! a thousand eyes rest eagerly on thee,
A thousand hearts beat freer in the thought that thou art free;
Because thou hast no common name, and thy dwelling is on high,
And folded in thy fate the fates of many nations lie.
A thousand hearts beat freer in the thought that thou art free;
Because thou hast no common name, and thy dwelling is on high,
And folded in thy fate the fates of many nations lie.
Time set a royal signet indelibly on thee,
And as the lot of common men thy lot can never be.
Three kingdoms have been thine by turns, three sceptres graced thy hand,
Three times the mighty ones of earth have bowed to thy command!
And as the lot of common men thy lot can never be.
Three kingdoms have been thine by turns, three sceptres graced thy hand,
Three times the mighty ones of earth have bowed to thy command!
When from thy cold and languid grasp the World's wide sceptre glides,
One moment thou seem'st lost amid the fierce barbaric tides;
When curbed, as if by magic, back from thy throne they roll,
And thou risest 'mid the tempest calm Empress of the Soul.
One moment thou seem'st lost amid the fierce barbaric tides;
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And thou risest 'mid the tempest calm Empress of the Soul.
Then when half Europe roused her might, and rent her from thy sway,
And for a space, as in a trance, thy passive image lay,
A fragrant breath of Beauty and of Melody divine,
Floated around thee sleeping, as around a saintly shrine.
And for a space, as in a trance, thy passive image lay,
A fragrant breath of Beauty and of Melody divine,
Floated around thee sleeping, as around a saintly shrine.
And for the throne of Empires they throned thee Queen of Art,
For the homage of the knee they gave the worship of the heart.
Godlike Art and godlike Nature circling thee with magic powers,
For a dead crown of gold entwined a living crown of flowers.
For the homage of the knee they gave the worship of the heart.
Godlike Art and godlike Nature circling thee with magic powers,
For a dead crown of gold entwined a living crown of flowers.
“Widow of nations” shall no more be written on thy land,
Mother of heroes! girt about with thy true-hearted band!—
As the maiden in the Northern Tale started from slumbers deep
Roused by the kiss of Freedom, thou hast burst thy spell of sleep;
Mother of heroes! girt about with thy true-hearted band!—
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Roused by the kiss of Freedom, thou hast burst thy spell of sleep;
And the ruins of thy glory are no more that glory's tomb,
For o'er the ruins bound the feet of a new and nobler Rome.
O'er the fountain of the glorious past a morning radiance flits,
By the brink of its still waters a living spirit sits;
For o'er the ruins bound the feet of a new and nobler Rome.
O'er the fountain of the glorious past a morning radiance flits,
By the brink of its still waters a living spirit sits;
No more the dead leaves float there in the gray autumnal glooms,
No more the death-wind stirs it with echoes from the tombs:
For a mighty hand has rolled away the stone from off its brink,
And living beings come once more of its quickening waves to drink;
No more the death-wind stirs it with echoes from the tombs:
For a mighty hand has rolled away the stone from off its brink,
And living beings come once more of its quickening waves to drink;
Then nerved with all the vigour of the old heroic life,
Go forth with tempered courage to the ancient field of strife;—
Not the old barbaric battles where swords clashed fierce with swords,
Nor the jar of vain polemics and the clang of hollow words;
Go forth with tempered courage to the ancient field of strife;—
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Nor the jar of vain polemics and the clang of hollow words;
But to the spirit-combat, with the arms of Work and Thought,
Where on the widest battle-field the oldest fight is fought;
Meeting ignorance with patience and tyranny with light,
And wrong and falsehood with the force of wisdom and of right.
Where on the widest battle-field the oldest fight is fought;
Meeting ignorance with patience and tyranny with light,
And wrong and falsehood with the force of wisdom and of right.
So speed thee to thy lofty work, heroic, calm, and free,
That the tyrant and the scoffer may learn with shame from thee
That Freedom is no empty boast, no prate for boys at school,
No ladder by which those who serve may climb on high to rule;
That the tyrant and the scoffer may learn with shame from thee
That Freedom is no empty boast, no prate for boys at school,
No ladder by which those who serve may climb on high to rule;
But a field for holy labours, and a gate for heavenly light,
Freedom to utter truth, do good, and help the wronged to right;
And they who still pine hopelessly in paralyzing thrall
May learn of thee how well 'tis worth to venture all for all.
Freedom to utter truth, do good, and help the wronged to right;
And they who still pine hopelessly in paralyzing thrall
May learn of thee how well 'tis worth to venture all for all.
THE END.
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