 | Julian Fane, Ad matrem |  |
22
VII.
[Scarce hath rare-plumaged Moon released]
Scarce hath rare-plumaged Moon released
Her bright head from her raven wing,
When blithe, the wakeful Lark, well pleased
To quit the Earth, prepares her spring.
Her bright head from her raven wing,
When blithe, the wakeful Lark, well pleased
To quit the Earth, prepares her spring.
The gorgeous Morning floats on high,
The Lark in swift ascension fair
Goes fluttering up the middle sky,
And floods with song the quivering air.
The Lark in swift ascension fair
Goes fluttering up the middle sky,
And floods with song the quivering air.
Beneath her, near her late abode,
The dark unhallowed earth along,
Crawl the vile worm and spotted toad,
They miss not her, nor hear her song.
The dark unhallowed earth along,
Crawl the vile worm and spotted toad,
They miss not her, nor hear her song.
No voice can vex her on her throne
Her happy soul, expanded free,
Fills the blue void;—she is alone
With her outpoured felicity.
Her happy soul, expanded free,
Fills the blue void;—she is alone
With her outpoured felicity.
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So I, sometimes, from Earth's control
Shoot, when the Muse, with heavenly eyes
Dawns like clear day on my dark soul,
And leads me vocal up the skies.
Shoot, when the Muse, with heavenly eyes
Dawns like clear day on my dark soul,
And leads me vocal up the skies.
She lends my human weakness wings,
And with clear voice she doth endow
My soul to sing of holiest things—
To sing thy Love she leads me now.
And with clear voice she doth endow
My soul to sing of holiest things—
To sing thy Love she leads me now.
Thy Love! which is to me what Heaven
Is to the Lark that carols free,—
A blue expanse, a refuge given
From Earth and all Earth's misery.
Is to the Lark that carols free,—
A blue expanse, a refuge given
From Earth and all Earth's misery.
And this bright Morn hath ushered in,
Mother, once more thy natal day;
And shame it were in me, and sin,
To miss my annual votive lay.
Mother, once more thy natal day;
And shame it were in me, and sin,
To miss my annual votive lay.
So sing I—though the clarion's blare,
The beat of drums, the shock of arms
Assault my soul, and vex the air
With War's unmusical alarms;
The beat of drums, the shock of arms
Assault my soul, and vex the air
With War's unmusical alarms;
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And though these sounds be no false din
Of puling Fancy, but indeed
Harsh echoes of harsh facts, wherein
The fate of our best loved we read;
Of puling Fancy, but indeed
Harsh echoes of harsh facts, wherein
The fate of our best loved we read;
Of him, the gallant, great, and good,
The brother of thy soul,—of him
Whose fame the fickle multitude
May mock with sneers, but cannot dim;
The brother of thy soul,—of him
Whose fame the fickle multitude
May mock with sneers, but cannot dim;
And that bright creature at his side,
That Star of modern chivalry,
Who claims thy whole maternal pride,
Who shares, ungrudged, thy heart with me.
That Star of modern chivalry,
Who claims thy whole maternal pride,
Who shares, ungrudged, thy heart with me.
Yea! though War's batteries rend the skies,
And Earth be pale with wild affright,
Above the tumult I can rise
Beyond the sound and out of sight.
And Earth be pale with wild affright,
Above the tumult I can rise
Beyond the sound and out of sight.
Ev'n as the Lark can soar above
The jarring world, and pipe in peace,
I, in the Heaven of thy dear Love,
From all Earth's discords find release.
The jarring world, and pipe in peace,
I, in the Heaven of thy dear Love,
From all Earth's discords find release.
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And far above the mortal din,
Beyond the reach of human wrong,
Of human speech and human sin,
I chaunt in Heaven my quiet song;
Beyond the reach of human wrong,
Of human speech and human sin,
I chaunt in Heaven my quiet song;
And needs must chaunt (as chaunts the Lark
Of Nature and her face) of thee;
Thine eyes, the sweet, the azure dark,
Are firmaments of love to me.
Of Nature and her face) of thee;
Thine eyes, the sweet, the azure dark,
Are firmaments of love to me.
Nor thou, dear Heaven, be sad this day,
No thought of grief obscure thy grace,
No cloud athwart thy fairness stray,
To dull the smile of thy sweet face;
No thought of grief obscure thy grace,
No cloud athwart thy fairness stray,
To dull the smile of thy sweet face;
And since the madness of the world
Makes winter of our early spring,
I ask thee to forget the world
A little while, that I may sing
Makes winter of our early spring,
I ask thee to forget the world
A little while, that I may sing
And cheat myself, as yon poor bird
Who pipes on leafless boughs to-day,
With hope, that while my voice is heard,
Thy heart's December turns to May.
Who pipes on leafless boughs to-day,
With hope, that while my voice is heard,
Thy heart's December turns to May.
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Fair omen! Fancy thinks to see
Thy heart bloom like a garden fair;
Sweet flowers in all variety
And foliaged trees are waving there.
Thy heart bloom like a garden fair;
Sweet flowers in all variety
And foliaged trees are waving there.
A bird comes flying through the trees,
And in her beak she bears a leaf;
Through all the garden blows a breeze,
And in thy heart no sign of grief.
And in her beak she bears a leaf;
Through all the garden blows a breeze,
And in thy heart no sign of grief.
The bird of Peace, the branch of Peace,
Enter thy heart and nestle there,
And in thy heart if sorrow cease,
Then sorrow ceases everywhere.
Enter thy heart and nestle there,
And in thy heart if sorrow cease,
Then sorrow ceases everywhere.
Oh, Dove! oh, Olive! wing your flight,
Foreseen on this propitious day,
Soon on the jarring world alight,
And perfect my prophetic lay.
Foreseen on this propitious day,
Soon on the jarring world alight,
And perfect my prophetic lay.
Prophetic! Hark, methinks I hear
Seraphic voices in the skies;
I see an angel's form appear,
A vision comes before my eyes:
Seraphic voices in the skies;
I see an angel's form appear,
A vision comes before my eyes:
27
The flocks graze; sudden light of joy
Bursts on the Shepherds where they stand;
The Mother clasps her babe; the Boy
Veils off the brightness with his hand.
Bursts on the Shepherds where they stand;
The Mother clasps her babe; the Boy
Veils off the brightness with his hand.
The Angel's face is sweet, and still,
And very fair; I hear her say—
“Peace upon Earth; toward men goodwill;”
And all the vision fades away.
And very fair; I hear her say—
“Peace upon Earth; toward men goodwill;”
And all the vision fades away.
But ere She went the Angel smiled;
Oh, God! I knew that face divine;—
Mother! I saw thy long-lost child;
Oh, Sister! and that voice was thine!
Oh, God! I knew that face divine;—
Mother! I saw thy long-lost child;
Oh, Sister! and that voice was thine!
March 13th, 1855.
| Julian Fane, Ad matrem | |