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Poems by the late John Bethune

With a sketch of the author's life, by his brother

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A VISION, OF AMBITION.
  
  
  
  
  
  
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 II. 
  
  
  
  
  

A VISION, OF AMBITION.

I had a vision; for my eye
Was giften to behold
A heart whose aspirations high
Were hid in mortal mould:
Its workings, which no eye could see,
Were seen and visible to me.

230

The thoughts which he forbore to speak,
I had the power to scan;
Although they glow'd not on the cheek
Of that mysterious man;
For of his heart I felt the heat,
And heard the pulse of passion beat.
In closest intercourse combined,
I knew him from a boy,
And watch'd the progress of his mind,
And mark'd its pain and joy;
Nor did he e'er to me disguise
The feelings hid from other eyes.
He was a youth of humble mien,
And unassuming gait,
Whose form had been right rarely seen
Among the proud or great;
And never did he court their gaze,
Or seem solicitous of praise.
In the deep shadows of a wood,
A lonely life he led—
Shadows which bound in solitude
The home where he was bred;
And in that sacred calm he nursed
Strange dreams and fancies from the first.
His friends were few; for he was poor,
And poverty, he knew,
Was held in scorn by every boor,
And therefore he withdrew,

231

But not in wrath or hate—heaven knows—
He loved mankind, and mourn'd their woes.
But he had found that faithful love
Within his humble home,
Which rose all selfishness above,
And still'd the wish to roam;
His parents twain—a hoary pair
Bending with feeble age—were there.
On him was fix'd with anxious care,
Their dim and fading eyes;
And morn and even their earnest prayer
For him was heard to rise:
Like ancient trees, they seem'd to lean
On one still vigorous, young, and green.
For them he braved the summer's heat,
And braved the winter's blast;
Alternate drench'd with rain and sweat,
His early life was pass'd;
And he had nought to lure his heart
From those deep shadows to depart.
Yet had ambition early fix'd
Itself on all he did;
Though from the few with whom he mix'd,
As said, it had been hid:
And here, too, I could scan its aim,
Although unknown, unscann'd by them.

232

Though mortal was his sire and mother,
Yet his ambition was,
That God's own Son should call him Brother,
And plead with God his cause,
And raise him to a throne and crown,
From which on kings he should look down.