When, disappearing, from our hemisphere,
The world's enlightener vanishes, and day
On all sides wasteth, suddenly the sky,
Erewhile irradiate only with his beam,
Is yet again unfolded, putting forth
Innumerable lights wherein one shines.
Of such vicissitude in heaven I thought,
As the great sign, that marshaleth the world
And the world's leaders, in the blessed beak
Was silent; for that all those living lights,
Waxing in splendour, burst forth into songs,
Such as from memory glide and fall away.

Sweet love! that dost apparel thee in smiles,
How lustrous was thy semblance in those sparkles,
Which merely are from holy thoughts inspir'd!

After the precious and bright beaming stones,
That did ingem the sixth light, ceas'd the chiming
Of their ange...

The stimulus, beyond the grave
His countenance to see,
Supports me like imperial drams
Afforded royally.

Thou, who dost dwell alone;
Thou, who dost know thine own;
Thou, to whom all are known,
From the cradle to the grave,
Save, O, save!

From the world's temptations;
From tribulations;
From that fierce anguish
Wherein we languish;
From that torpor deep
Wherein we lie asleep,
Heavy as death, cold as the grave,
Save, O, save!

When the soul, growing clearer,
Sees God no nearer;
When the soul, mounting higher,
To God comes no nigher;
But the arch-fiend Pride
Mounts at her side,
Foiling her high emprize,
Sealing her eagle eyes,
And, when she fain would soar,
Make idols to adore;
Changing the pure emotion
Of her high devotion,
To a skin-deep sense
Of her own eloquence;
Strong to deceive, strong to ensla...

("Un Ange vit un jour.")

[LA PITIÉ SUPREME VIII., 1881.]


When an angel of kindness
Saw, doomed to the dark,
Men framed in his likeness,
He sought for a spark -
Stray gem of God's glory
    That shines so serene -
And, falling like lark,
To brighten our story,
    Pure Pity was seen.

        There is a courage, a majestic thing
    That springs forth from the brow of pain, full-grown,
    Minerva-like, and dares all dangers known,
        And all the threatening future yet may bring;
        Crowned with the helmet of great suffering;
    Serene with that grand strength by martyrs shown,
    When at the stake they die and make no moan,
        And even as the flames leap up are heard to sing:

        A courage so sublime and unafraid,
    It wears its sorrows like a coat of mail;
    And Fate, the archer, passes by dismayed,
        Knowing his best barbed arrows needs must fail
        To pierce a soul so armored and arrayed
    That Death himself might look on it and quail.

Of tribulation these are they
Denoted by the white;
The spangled gowns, a lesser rank
Of victors designate.

All these did conquer; but the ones
Who overcame most times
Wear nothing commoner than snow,
No ornament but palms.

Surrender is a sort unknown
On this superior soil;
Defeat, an outgrown anguish,
Remembered as the mile

Our panting ankle barely gained
When night devoured the road;
But we stood whispering in the house,
And all we said was "Saved"!

The soul of a nation awaking, -
High visions of daybreak, - I saw;
A people renewed; the forsaking
    Of sin, and the worship of law.

Sing, pine-tree; shout, to the hoarser
Response of the jubilant sea!
Rush, river, foam-flecked like a courser;
    Warn all who are honest and free!

Our birth-star beckons to trial
The faith of the far-fled years,
Ere scorn was our share, and denial,
    Or laughter for patriots' tears.

And Faith shall come forth the finer,
From trampled thickets of fire,
And the orient open diviner
    Before her, the heaven rise higher.

O deep, sweet eyes, but severer
Than steel! See you yet, where he comes -
Our hero? Bend your glance nearer;
Speak, Faith! For, as wakening drums,

Your voice s...

Is the goal distant, and troubled the road,
    And the way long?
    And heavy your load?
Then gird up your courage, and say 'I am strong,'
    And keep going.

Is the work weary, and endless the grind
    And petty the pay?
    Then brace up your mind
And say 'Something better is coming my way,'
    And keep doing.

Is the drink bitter life pours in your cup -
    Is the taste gall?
    Then smile and look up
And say 'God is with me whatever befall,'
    And keep trusting.

Is the heart heavy with hope long deferred,
    And with prayers that seem vain?
    Keep saying the word -
And that which you strive for you yet shall attain.
    Keep praying.

Would you know what joy is hid
In our green Musketaquid,
And for travelled eyes what charms
Draw us to these meadow farms,
Come and I will show you all
Makes each day a festival.
Stand upon this pasture hill,
Face the eastern star until
The slow eye of heaven shall show
The world above, the world below.

Behold the miracle!
Thou saw'st but now the twilight sad
And stood beneath the firmament,
A watchman in a dark gray tent,
Waiting till God create the earth,--
Behold the new majestic birth!
The mottled clouds, like scraps of wool,
Steeped in the light are beautiful.
What majestic stillness broods
Over these colored solitudes.
Sleeps the vast East in pleasèd peace,
Up the far mountain walls the streams increase
Inundating the ...

    If but one spark of honest zeal
    Flashes to life within his breast -
    A feeble, flick'ring spark at best;
    If for a moment he doth feel
    A dim desire to throw aside
    The bonds that idleness has wrought,
    To do, to be the man he ought,
    The tyrant thing he calls his pride -

    The curse of all things good on earth -
    Takes on the cruel midwife's role,
    And each high impulse of the soul
    Is strangled in the hour of birth.
    "To dig I am ashamed," quoth he;
    "Mine is the pride of name and race
    That scorns to fill such humble space -
    Life's lowly tasks are not for me."

    Oh, he can flatter with his tongue,
    Can toady to the rich and great,
    Can fawn on those he feels to hate,
    Un...

I send you here a sort of allegory–
For you will understand it–of a soul,
A sinful soul possess’d of many gifts,
A spacious garden full of flowering weeds,
A glorious devil, large in heart and brain,
That did love beauty only–beauty seen
In all varieties of mould and mind–
And knowledge for its beauty; or if good,
Good only for its beauty, seeing not
That Beauty, Good, and Knowledge are three sisters
That doat upon each other, friends to man,
Living together under the same roof,
And never can be sunder’d without tears.
And he that shuts Love out, in turn shall be
Shut out from Love, and on her threshold lie
Howling in outer darkness. Not for this
Was common clay ta’en from the common earth
Moulded by God, and temper’d with the tears
Of angels to the ...

Heroic deeds in every age
Command the world's esteem;
Each finds a place in history's page,
'Midst gloom a glory beam.

And we full oft revert to this,
To show man's true descent
From Him who is the source of bliss,
Tho' now by passions rent.

But we need not consult the past;
The present bears this fruit:
The hero race will ever last;
The tree is sound at root.

And never has the world excelled
The present in this line;
Our loving Lord has not withheld
From us this trait divine.

And we should not from them withhold
The praise we feel is due
For deeds of love, and actions bold,
For spirit kind and true.

Their worth we now should recognize,
Not chant it o'er their graves;
The hero of the past we prize,

Poor and inadequate the shadow-play
Of gain and loss, of waking and of dream,
Against life’s solemn background needs must seem
At this late hour. Yet, not unthankfully,
I call to mind the fountains by the way,
The breath of flowers, the bird-song on the spray,
Dear friends, sweet human loves, the joy of giving
And of receiving, the great boon of living
In grand historic years when Liberty
Had need of word and work, quick sympathies
For all who fail and suffer, song’s relief,
Nature’s uncloying loveliness; and chief,
The kind restraining hand of Providence,
The inward witness, the assuring sense
Of an Eternal Good which overlies
The sorrow of the world, Love which outlives
All sin and wrong, Compassion which forgives
To the uttermost, and Justice whose cle...

Is there another world for this frail dust
To warm with life and be itself again?
Something about me daily speaks there must,
And why should instinct nourish hopes in vain?
'Tis nature's prophesy that such will be,
And everything seems struggling to explain
The close sealed volume of its mystery.
Time wandering onward keeps its usual pace
As seeming anxious of eternity,
To meet that calm and find a resting place.
E'en the small violet feels a future power
And waits each year renewing blooms to bring,
And surely man is no inferior flower
To die unworthy of a second spring?

Poor throbbing heart! the battle wave of life
Beats strong against thee, yet thou strugglest on,
Breasting the mighty billows, though no kind, well-known voice,
When the great mountain wave threatens to o'erwhelm,
Whispers the soul-reviving words, "Be of good cheer,
The port is nearing fast!" Instead of this
Is heard the mournful moan of the discourager,
Portending peril, shipwreck, loss of all.
But ah! poor struggling heart!
An eye is over thee, a Father's eye,
Of tender love and pity. There is ONE
Whose voice is mightier than the noise
Of many waters, who sitteth on the flood
And reigneth King forever.
He sees thee breast the wave, upheld alone
By childlike trust and confidence in Him,
And through the storm is heard His gentle tone,
"Daughter, be comfor...

It is easy enough to be pleasant
    When life flows by like a song,
But the man worth while is the one who will smile
    When everything goes dead wrong.
For the test of the heart is trouble,
    And it always comes with the years,
And the smile that is worth the praises of earth
    Is the smile that shines through tears.

It is easy enough to be prudent
    When nothing tempts you to stray,
When without or within no voice of sin
    Is luring your soul away;
But it's only a negative virtue
    Until it is tried by fire,
And the life that is worth the honour on earth
    Is the one that resists desire.

By the cynic, the sad, the fallen,
    Who had no strength for the strife,
The world's highway is cumbered to-day -
    They make u...

Somewhere, somewhere in this heart
There lies a jewel from the sea,
Or from a rock, or from the sand,
Or dropped from heaven wondrously.

Oh, burn, my jewel, in my glance!
Oh, shimmer on my lips in prayer!
Light my love's eyes to read my soul,
Which, wrapt in ashes, yet is fair!

When dead I lie, forgotten, deep
Within the earth and sunken past,
Still shall my jewel light my dust, -
The worth God gives us, first and last!

Affections, Instincts, Principles, and Powers,
Impulse and Reason, Freedom and Control
So men, unravelling God’s harmonious whole.
Rend in a thousand shreds this life of ours.
Vain labour! Deep and broad, where none may see,
Spring the foundations of the shadowy throne
Where man’s one Nature, queen-like, sits alone,
Centred in a majestic unity;
And rays her powers, like sister islands, seen
Linking their coral arms under the sea:
Or cluster’d peaks, with plunging gulfs between
Spann’d by aërial arches, all of gold;
Whereo’er the chariot wheels of Life are roll’d
In cloudy circles, to eternity