The Battle-Day and Other Poems By Ernest Jones |
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THE POET'S INVITATION. |
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 | The Battle-Day and Other Poems |  |
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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.
| The Battle-Day and Other Poems | |