 | The Battle-Day and Other Poems |  |
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THE POET.
THE POET'S MISSION.
Who is it rivets broken bands
And stranger-hearts together,
And builds with fast-decaying hands
A home to last for ever?
And stranger-hearts together,
And builds with fast-decaying hands
A home to last for ever?
From thunder-clouds compels the light,
And casts the bolt away,
Upluring from the soulless night
The soul's returning day?
And casts the bolt away,
Upluring from the soulless night
The soul's returning day?
Who is it calls up glories past
From tombs of churches old?
And proudly bids the hero last,
Tho' fades his grassy mould?
From tombs of churches old?
And proudly bids the hero last,
Tho' fades his grassy mould?
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Who is it, with age-vanquished form,
Treads death's ascending path;
Yet stronger than the fiery storm
Of tyrants in their wrath?
Treads death's ascending path;
Yet stronger than the fiery storm
Of tyrants in their wrath?
Whose voice, so low to human ears,
Has still the strength sublime
To ring thro' the advancing years—
And history—and time?
Has still the strength sublime
To ring thro' the advancing years—
And history—and time?
Who is it, in love's servitude,
Devotes his generous life,
And measures by his own heart's good
A world with evil rife?
Devotes his generous life,
And measures by his own heart's good
A world with evil rife?
The Bard—who walks earth's lonely length
Till all his gifts are given;
Makes others strong with his own strength,
And then fleets back to Heaven.
Till all his gifts are given;
Makes others strong with his own strength,
And then fleets back to Heaven.
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THE POET'S PARALLEL.
Down the hillside tripping brightly,
O'er the pebbles tinkling lightly,
'Mid the meadows rippling merrily, the mountain-current goes;
By the broken rocks careering,
Thro' the desert persevering,
Flowing onward ever, ever singing as it flows.
O'er the pebbles tinkling lightly,
'Mid the meadows rippling merrily, the mountain-current goes;
By the broken rocks careering,
Thro' the desert persevering,
Flowing onward ever, ever singing as it flows.
But oh! the darksome caves
That swallow up the waves!
Oh! the shadow-haunted forest and the sandy shallows wide!
Oh! the hollow-reeded fen,
Like the stagnant minds of men,
A desert for the silver foot of mountain-cradled tide!
That swallow up the waves!
Oh! the shadow-haunted forest and the sandy shallows wide!
Oh! the hollow-reeded fen,
Like the stagnant minds of men,
A desert for the silver foot of mountain-cradled tide!
And oh! the withered leaves
From the fading forest-eaves,
Pressing on its forehead like the signet of decay;
And the cold cloud's troubling tear
On its crystal waters clear,
Like a haunting sorrow gliding down the future of its way.
From the fading forest-eaves,
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And the cold cloud's troubling tear
On its crystal waters clear,
Like a haunting sorrow gliding down the future of its way.
Oh! the quick, precipitous riot
That breaks upon its quiet,
When lingering by some shady bank in dream-engendering rest!
Oh! the stormy wind that mars
The image of the stars,
When they nestle, heavenly lovers! on their earthly wooer's breast!
That breaks upon its quiet,
When lingering by some shady bank in dream-engendering rest!
Oh! the stormy wind that mars
The image of the stars,
When they nestle, heavenly lovers! on their earthly wooer's breast!
But the wild flowers love thy side;
And the birds sing o'er thy tide;
And the shy deer from the highlands confidingly descends;
And to thee, the son of care,
With a blessing and a prayer,
From life's great wildernesses in a thirsting spirit wends.
And the birds sing o'er thy tide;
And the shy deer from the highlands confidingly descends;
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With a blessing and a prayer,
From life's great wildernesses in a thirsting spirit wends.
And the fairies never seen,
Come tripping o'er the green,
To gaze into thy mirror the live-long summer night;
And the glory of the skies
That the blind earth idly eyes,
Fills the pulses of thy being with the fulness of its light.
Come tripping o'er the green,
To gaze into thy mirror the live-long summer night;
And the glory of the skies
That the blind earth idly eyes,
Fills the pulses of thy being with the fulness of its light.
THE POET'S PRAYER TO THE EVENING WIND.
Wild rider of grey clouds, beneath whose breath
The stars dissolve in mist, or rain, or sleet;
Who chariotest the scudding years to death,
Beneath thy driven tempests' clanging feet!
Thou child of mystery, terrible and strong,
Whose cradle and whose grave unfathomed lies.
Thou first of poets! Thou eternal song!
That born each moment, yet each moment dies!
The stars dissolve in mist, or rain, or sleet;
Who chariotest the scudding years to death,
Beneath thy driven tempests' clanging feet!
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Whose cradle and whose grave unfathomed lies.
Thou first of poets! Thou eternal song!
That born each moment, yet each moment dies!
Keeper of life in ocean, earth, and air,
That else would stagnate in a dull despair!
Dispeller of the mists! whose airy hand
Winnows the dead leaves from the forest-band!
Teach me like thee to sing, untired and strong,
Flooding all earth with one great tide of song;
Heard through each clime, in every language known,
By kindred feeling set to one heart-tone!
That else would stagnate in a dull despair!
Dispeller of the mists! whose airy hand
Winnows the dead leaves from the forest-band!
Teach me like thee to sing, untired and strong,
Flooding all earth with one great tide of song;
Heard through each clime, in every language known,
By kindred feeling set to one heart-tone!
Like thee, now breathing soft from flowery trees,
Now striking tempests through the torpid seas;
Wailing low music on some lonely strand,
Or hurling lightnings with unerring hand;
Scatt'ring the chaff from forth the goodly grain;
Dispelling fears, and cares and doubtings vain;
Till hearts of men upon my impulse sail,
And falsehood's wrecked in truth's victorious gale!
Now striking tempests through the torpid seas;
Wailing low music on some lonely strand,
Or hurling lightnings with unerring hand;
Scatt'ring the chaff from forth the goodly grain;
Dispelling fears, and cares and doubtings vain;
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And falsehood's wrecked in truth's victorious gale!
And while I live, oh! teach me still to be
A bard, as thou, brave, fetterless, and free.
Past cot and palace, to the weak and strong,
Singing the same great bold unfearing song!
And as thou bear'st sweet scents from strand to strand,
Culling the scattered treasures of the land,
So let me cull each isolated truth,
Where old bards left their thoughts' eternal youth—
Till man, while listening to the harp unseen,
Himself feels greater since the great has been.
A bard, as thou, brave, fetterless, and free.
Past cot and palace, to the weak and strong,
Singing the same great bold unfearing song!
And as thou bear'st sweet scents from strand to strand,
Culling the scattered treasures of the land,
So let me cull each isolated truth,
Where old bards left their thoughts' eternal youth—
Till man, while listening to the harp unseen,
Himself feels greater since the great has been.
And when the years bring labour's last reward,
Then sing my death-song, thou unequalled bard!
And tear my ashes from the clay-cold urn
To whirl them where the suns and planets burn,
And shout aloud, in brotherhood of glee:
“Like me to sing—and to be loved like me!”
Then sing my death-song, thou unequalled bard!
And tear my ashes from the clay-cold urn
To whirl them where the suns and planets burn,
And shout aloud, in brotherhood of glee:
“Like me to sing—and to be loved like me!”
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THE POET'S INVITATION.
When the sea is still as glass,
And the whispering breezes pass
On messages from zone to zone, or waft from pole to pole
A dewdrop of Savannah sweet,
A particle of Arab heat—
Commingling Nature's essences in one harmonious whole;
And the whispering breezes pass
On messages from zone to zone, or waft from pole to pole
A dewdrop of Savannah sweet,
A particle of Arab heat—
Commingling Nature's essences in one harmonious whole;
When the bright magnetic stars
Seem leaning from their cars,
As drawn by some kind influence from clear familiar skies;
And thoughts, as dreams misprized,
Great truths unrecognised!
Strike sudden chords from forth the world's eternal harmonies;
Seem leaning from their cars,
As drawn by some kind influence from clear familiar skies;
And thoughts, as dreams misprized,
Great truths unrecognised!
Strike sudden chords from forth the world's eternal harmonies;
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When the sun sets in the sea,
Like Time in Eternity,
And space beyond horizon seems stretching without end:
Then come to an arbour still,
Half-way up a western hill,
That I destined for such an hour, and planted for such a friend.
Like Time in Eternity,
And space beyond horizon seems stretching without end:
Then come to an arbour still,
Half-way up a western hill,
That I destined for such an hour, and planted for such a friend.
A cedar from Assyria,
A willow from St. Helena,
A vine from classic Tusculum, their branches intertwine;
A lily-rose from Mexico,
The vegetable southern snow!
Stands side by side—exotic bride!—with Norway's Scaldic pine.
A willow from St. Helena,
A vine from classic Tusculum, their branches intertwine;
A lily-rose from Mexico,
The vegetable southern snow!
Stands side by side—exotic bride!—with Norway's Scaldic pine.
The seat is formed of precious stone:
A fragment from old Babylon,
From Theseus' wall—Carthago's fall—perchance the Roman's seat!
From Theban Sphinx's heartless breast,
From Aztec ruin of the west,
And a cornice from the Capitol is spread beneath our feet.
A fragment from old Babylon,
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From Theban Sphinx's heartless breast,
From Aztec ruin of the west,
And a cornice from the Capitol is spread beneath our feet.
And thence you may behold
A map of earth unrolled,
With the steamers on the ocean and the railways on the land;
And hear the city's hum
Up the hillside deadened come—
Like the last ebb of the waters on a far-receding strand.
A map of earth unrolled,
With the steamers on the ocean and the railways on the land;
And hear the city's hum
Up the hillside deadened come—
Like the last ebb of the waters on a far-receding strand.
Oh! there methinks 'twere sweet
To sit in converse meet,
With palpable progression before our vision spread;
And trace the mighty plan
Of the destinies of man,
Measuring the living by the stature of the dead.
To sit in converse meet,
With palpable progression before our vision spread;
And trace the mighty plan
Of the destinies of man,
Measuring the living by the stature of the dead.
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THE POET'S DEATH.
A brave old warrior of poesy,
Grown grey-haired in the service of his lyre;
A soul like an imprisoned Liberty—
A mind like an imprisoned fire.
Grown grey-haired in the service of his lyre;
A soul like an imprisoned Liberty—
A mind like an imprisoned fire.
Vain tyranny would chain his eagle wings,
Vain malice would his heavenly visions tame:
Still through the prison-bars the angel sings,
Still breaks through dungeon-walls the flashing flame.
Vain malice would his heavenly visions tame:
Still through the prison-bars the angel sings,
Still breaks through dungeon-walls the flashing flame.
Forth, o'er the coldness of the outer world,
Burst from his heart deep feeling's fiery flow;
Thus, from the volcano's rim unfurled,
The lava-banner waves o'er ice and snow.
Burst from his heart deep feeling's fiery flow;
Thus, from the volcano's rim unfurled,
The lava-banner waves o'er ice and snow.
Hail to the bard, who ever sang the right!
Hail to the river on a desert rolled!
Hail to the veteran from the Titan-fight!
Hail to the heart that dies but grows not old!
Hail to the river on a desert rolled!
Hail to the veteran from the Titan-fight!
Hail to the heart that dies but grows not old!
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Slow down the tide of the departing years,
The venerable shadow flits along.
No tears for him, who ne'er gave rise to tears;
His requiem be an echo of his song.
The venerable shadow flits along.
No tears for him, who ne'er gave rise to tears;
His requiem be an echo of his song.
| The Battle-Day and Other Poems | |