III.Not all the brilliant beauties I have seen,Mid the gay splendors of some Southern hall,In jewelled grandeur, or in plainest mien,Did so my fancy and my heart enthral,As doth this noble woman, Nature’s queen!Such hearty greeting from her lips did fall,And I ennobled was through her esteem;At once made sharer of her confidence,As by enchantment of some rapturous dream;With subtler vision gifted, finer sense,She loosed my tongue’s refraining diffidence,And softer accents lent our varying theme:So much my Lady others doth surpass,I read them all through her transparent glass.
III.
Not all the brilliant beauties I have seen,Mid the gay splendors of some Southern hall,In jewelled grandeur, or in plainest mien,Did so my fancy and my heart enthral,As doth this noble woman, Nature’s queen!Such hearty greeting from her lips did fall,And I ennobled was through her esteem;At once made sharer of her confidence,As by enchantment of some rapturous dream;With subtler vision gifted, finer sense,She loosed my tongue’s refraining diffidence,And softer accents lent our varying theme:So much my Lady others doth surpass,I read them all through her transparent glass.
“They love indeed who quake to say they love.”Sir Philip Sidney.
IV.The April rains are past, the frosts austere,—The flowers are hungering for the genial sun,The snow’s dissolved, the merry birds are here,And rural labors now are well begun.Hither, from the disturbing, noisy CourtI’ve flown to this sequestered, quiet scene,To meditate on Love and Love’s disportMid these smooth pastures and the meadows green.Sure ’twere no fault of mine, no whispering sin,If these coy leaves he sends me seem to speakAll that my heart, caressing, folds within;Nor if I sought to smother, my flushed cheekWould tell too plainly what I cannot hide,Fond fancy disenchant nor set aside.
IV.
The April rains are past, the frosts austere,—The flowers are hungering for the genial sun,The snow’s dissolved, the merry birds are here,And rural labors now are well begun.Hither, from the disturbing, noisy CourtI’ve flown to this sequestered, quiet scene,To meditate on Love and Love’s disportMid these smooth pastures and the meadows green.Sure ’twere no fault of mine, no whispering sin,If these coy leaves he sends me seem to speakAll that my heart, caressing, folds within;Nor if I sought to smother, my flushed cheekWould tell too plainly what I cannot hide,Fond fancy disenchant nor set aside.
“Love is the life of friendship, letters areThe life of love, the loadstones that by rareAttraction make souls meet, and melt, and mix,As when by fire exalted gold we fix.”Howel.
V.Most precious leaves the mail delights to bring,All loving parcels, neatly squared and sealed;Her buoyant fancy trims its glossy wing,And flits courageous o’er Love’s flowery field.Sure ’tis a tender and a sparkling flameThat letters kindle and do sweetly feed;Wilt fly, schoolmaster, for such noble game?Maiden that doth all other maids exceed!She writes with passion, and a nimble wit,Void of all pedantry and vain pretence,With native genius forcible and fit,A flowing humor and surpassing sense:Who gains her heart will win a precious prize,And fortunate be in every lover’s eyes.
V.
Most precious leaves the mail delights to bring,All loving parcels, neatly squared and sealed;Her buoyant fancy trims its glossy wing,And flits courageous o’er Love’s flowery field.Sure ’tis a tender and a sparkling flameThat letters kindle and do sweetly feed;Wilt fly, schoolmaster, for such noble game?Maiden that doth all other maids exceed!She writes with passion, and a nimble wit,Void of all pedantry and vain pretence,With native genius forcible and fit,A flowing humor and surpassing sense:Who gains her heart will win a precious prize,And fortunate be in every lover’s eyes.
“This place may seem for lovers’ leisure made,So close those elms inweave their lofty shade.The twining woodbine, how it climbs to breatheRefreshing sweets around us; all beneath,The ground with grass of cheerful green bespread,Through which the springing flower uprears its head.Lo, here are kingcups of a golden hue,Medleyed with daisies white and endive blue,And honeysuckles of a purple dye:Confusion gay! bright waving to the eye.”Ambrose Phillips.
VI.’Tis but a half-hour’s walk the Mill-Dam o’er,Past Punch Bowl Inn, where, by the turnpike’s side,The shaded pathway winding to the door,The mansion rises in ancestral pride:—Its shaven lawn, and blossoming orchard hoar,And trellised vines, and hedges trim and neat,Show plenty and refinement here abide,—The generous gentleman’s fair country-seat.Now, whilst the full moon glances soft and brightO’er Mall and Mill-Dam and suburban street,Turn hitherward thine unaccustomed feet,At afternoon, or evening, or late night;A change of scene oft rare attraction lendsTo new acquaintance, as to older friends.
VI.
’Tis but a half-hour’s walk the Mill-Dam o’er,Past Punch Bowl Inn, where, by the turnpike’s side,The shaded pathway winding to the door,The mansion rises in ancestral pride:—Its shaven lawn, and blossoming orchard hoar,And trellised vines, and hedges trim and neat,Show plenty and refinement here abide,—The generous gentleman’s fair country-seat.Now, whilst the full moon glances soft and brightO’er Mall and Mill-Dam and suburban street,Turn hitherward thine unaccustomed feet,At afternoon, or evening, or late night;A change of scene oft rare attraction lendsTo new acquaintance, as to older friends.
“If I may trust the flattering truth of sleep,My dreams presage some joyful news at hand:My bosom’s lord sits lightly in his throne,And all this day an unaccustomed spiritLifts me above the ground with cheerful thoughts.”Shakespeare.
VII.The morning’s clear, the sky without a frown,The dew-bespangled pastures wet the shoe;Sauntering full early toward the sleeping town,We’ll take the dry, well-trodden avenue;On these crisp pathways, and familiar grounds(Unless my flattering heart be over-bold),While lingering purposely amid our rounds,Some shady lane may love to hear all told.One name has captured his too partial ear,—(These kind, concealing bushes love inviteNo tell-tales are, nor neighbors impolite;)I’ll hear his suit devoid of blame or fear.Impatiently the moment I await;Who nothing ventures, stays disconsolate.
VII.
The morning’s clear, the sky without a frown,The dew-bespangled pastures wet the shoe;Sauntering full early toward the sleeping town,We’ll take the dry, well-trodden avenue;On these crisp pathways, and familiar grounds(Unless my flattering heart be over-bold),While lingering purposely amid our rounds,Some shady lane may love to hear all told.One name has captured his too partial ear,—(These kind, concealing bushes love inviteNo tell-tales are, nor neighbors impolite;)I’ll hear his suit devoid of blame or fear.Impatiently the moment I await;Who nothing ventures, stays disconsolate.
“Who knows thy destiny? when thou hast done,Perchance her cabinet may harbor thee,Whither all noble ambitious wits do run,A nest almost as full of good as she.Mark if to get thee she o’erskip the rest,Mark if she read thee thrice, and kiss the name,Mark if she do the same that they protest,Mark if she mark whither her woman came.”Donne.
VIII.Mean are all titles of nobility,And kings poor spendthrifts, while I do compareThe wealth she daily lavishes on meOf love, the noble kingdom that I share:Is it the jealous year, for emphasis,Sheds beauteous sunshine and refreshing dews?My maiden’s month doth softlier court and kiss,Tint springtime’s virgin cheek with rosier huesFly faster o’er my page, impassioned quill,Signing this note of mine with tenderer touch!Say I no measure find to mete my will,Say that I love, but cannot tell how much;Let time and trouble the full story tell:I cannot love thee more, I know I love thee well.
VIII.
Mean are all titles of nobility,And kings poor spendthrifts, while I do compareThe wealth she daily lavishes on meOf love, the noble kingdom that I share:Is it the jealous year, for emphasis,Sheds beauteous sunshine and refreshing dews?My maiden’s month doth softlier court and kiss,Tint springtime’s virgin cheek with rosier huesFly faster o’er my page, impassioned quill,Signing this note of mine with tenderer touch!Say I no measure find to mete my will,Say that I love, but cannot tell how much;Let time and trouble the full story tell:I cannot love thee more, I know I love thee well.
“Let raptured fancy on that moment dwellWhen thy dear vows in trembling accents fell,When love acknowledged waked the tender sigh,Swelled thy full breast, and filled the melting eye.”Langhorne.
IX.Now I no longer wait my love to tell,As ’twere a weakness love should not commit;E’en did avowal my fond hope dispel,My passion would of weakness me acquit.Enamoured thus and holden by its spell,Evasive words disloyal were, unfitTo emphasize the exquisite happinessMy boldest accents falteringly express;Here, take my hand, and, life-long wedded, leadMe by thy side; and, with my hand, my heartGiven thee long since in thought, given now in deed;My life, my love, shall play no faithless part.Blest be that hour, when, meeting face to face,Our vows are plighted, ours the dear embrace!
IX.
Now I no longer wait my love to tell,As ’twere a weakness love should not commit;E’en did avowal my fond hope dispel,My passion would of weakness me acquit.Enamoured thus and holden by its spell,Evasive words disloyal were, unfitTo emphasize the exquisite happinessMy boldest accents falteringly express;Here, take my hand, and, life-long wedded, leadMe by thy side; and, with my hand, my heartGiven thee long since in thought, given now in deed;My life, my love, shall play no faithless part.Blest be that hour, when, meeting face to face,Our vows are plighted, ours the dear embrace!
“Venus, thy eternal swayAll the race of men obey.”Euripides.
X.Unconquerable and inviolateIs Love; servant and sov’reign of man’s wit:Though the light-wingèd fancy changeful flit,She rules unswervingly her fair estate,O’erbears mischance and error, envy and hate;High intellect, ambition, passion, pride,Endowments that capricious Fortune brings,By her disfranchisements are set aside;The mistress she alike of slaves and kings,Empress of Earth’s dominions, far and wide,Eldest of potentates, and latest born.Of all in Heaven above or Earth below,No being so illustrious or forlorn,That to Love’s sceptre doth not gladly bow.
X.
Unconquerable and inviolateIs Love; servant and sov’reign of man’s wit:Though the light-wingèd fancy changeful flit,She rules unswervingly her fair estate,O’erbears mischance and error, envy and hate;High intellect, ambition, passion, pride,Endowments that capricious Fortune brings,By her disfranchisements are set aside;The mistress she alike of slaves and kings,Empress of Earth’s dominions, far and wide,Eldest of potentates, and latest born.Of all in Heaven above or Earth below,No being so illustrious or forlorn,That to Love’s sceptre doth not gladly bow.
“Ye tradeful merchants! that with weary toilDo seek most precious things to make your gain,And both the Indies of their treasure spoil,What needeth you to seek so far in vain?For, lo! my love doth in herself containAll this world’s riches that may far be found;But that which fairest is, but few behold,Her mind adorned with virtues manifold.”Spenser.
“Ye tradeful merchants! that with weary toilDo seek most precious things to make your gain,And both the Indies of their treasure spoil,What needeth you to seek so far in vain?For, lo! my love doth in herself containAll this world’s riches that may far be found;
But that which fairest is, but few behold,Her mind adorned with virtues manifold.”Spenser.
XI.Ancestral tendencies far down descend;They bless or blame for generations long;They prick us forward toward our destined end,Alike the weak, the sluggish, and the strong.When her grave ancestor, of Winthrop’s date,Did with the rich mint-master’s daughter joinIn wedlock, he, sagacious magistrate,Gained more in sterling worth than silver coin:So, when King’s Chapel saw, in gladsome May,The mild schoolmaster lead his willing bride,And the courtly warden give her hand away,Mintage of like worth had no land beside.True love alone nobility doth outvie,And character’s the sterling currency.
XI.
Ancestral tendencies far down descend;They bless or blame for generations long;They prick us forward toward our destined end,Alike the weak, the sluggish, and the strong.When her grave ancestor, of Winthrop’s date,Did with the rich mint-master’s daughter joinIn wedlock, he, sagacious magistrate,Gained more in sterling worth than silver coin:So, when King’s Chapel saw, in gladsome May,The mild schoolmaster lead his willing bride,And the courtly warden give her hand away,Mintage of like worth had no land beside.True love alone nobility doth outvie,And character’s the sterling currency.
“How still the sea! behold, how calm the sky!And how, in sportive chase, the swallows fly!Sweet breathe the fields, and now a gentle breezeMoves every leaf and trembles through the trees.”Phillips.
XII.Hither, the gray and shapely church beside,At sandy Hingham, by the sounding sea,From the disturbing town escaped thus wide,I’m come, from all encumbering care set free,To raise the choral song, with friends discourse,Roam the wide fields for flowers, or seaward sail,Or to Cohasset’s strand repair, where hoarseTumultuous surges chant their ceaseless tale;Or poesy entertain, grave Wordsworth’s lays,Melodious musing childhood’s glorious prime,Shakespeare’s warm sonnets or Venetian plays,Or that sad wizard Mariner’s marvellous Rime.Here in these haunts, this lovers’ company,Sweet Love’s symposium hold we happily.
XII.
Hither, the gray and shapely church beside,At sandy Hingham, by the sounding sea,From the disturbing town escaped thus wide,I’m come, from all encumbering care set free,To raise the choral song, with friends discourse,Roam the wide fields for flowers, or seaward sail,Or to Cohasset’s strand repair, where hoarseTumultuous surges chant their ceaseless tale;Or poesy entertain, grave Wordsworth’s lays,Melodious musing childhood’s glorious prime,Shakespeare’s warm sonnets or Venetian plays,Or that sad wizard Mariner’s marvellous Rime.Here in these haunts, this lovers’ company,Sweet Love’s symposium hold we happily.
“Books have always a secret influence on the understanding: we cannot at pleasure obliterate ideas; he that reads books of science, though without any desire for improvement, will grow more knowing; he that entertains himself with moral or religious treatises will imperceptibly advance to goodness; the ideas which are often offered to the mind will at last find a lucky moment when it is disposed to receive them.”
Dr. Johnson.
XIII.My Lady reads, with judgment and good taste,Books not too many, but the wisest, best,Pregnant with sentiment sincere and chaste,Rightly conceived were they and aptly dressed:These wells of learning tastes she at the source,—Johnson’s poised periods, Fénelon’s deep sense,Taylor’s mellifluous and sage discourse,Majestic Milton’s epic eloquence,—Nor these alone her thoughts do all engage,But classic authors of the modern time,And the great masters of the ancient age,In prose alike and of the lofty rhyme:Montaigne and Cowper, Plutarch’s gallery,Blind Homer’s Iliad and his Odyssey.
XIII.
My Lady reads, with judgment and good taste,Books not too many, but the wisest, best,Pregnant with sentiment sincere and chaste,Rightly conceived were they and aptly dressed:These wells of learning tastes she at the source,—Johnson’s poised periods, Fénelon’s deep sense,Taylor’s mellifluous and sage discourse,Majestic Milton’s epic eloquence,—Nor these alone her thoughts do all engage,But classic authors of the modern time,And the great masters of the ancient age,In prose alike and of the lofty rhyme:Montaigne and Cowper, Plutarch’s gallery,Blind Homer’s Iliad and his Odyssey.
“Ye blessed creatures, I have heard the callYe to each other make: I seeThe heavens laugh with you in your jubilee;My heart is at your festival,My head hath its coronal,The fulness of your bliss I feel—I feel it all.”Wordsworth.
XIV.Not Wordsworth’s genius, Pestalozzi’s love,The stream have sounded of clear infancy.Baptismal waters from the Head aboveThese babes I foster daily are to me;I dip my pitcher in these living springsAnd draw, from depths below, sincerity;Unsealed, mine eyes behold all outward thingsArrayed in splendors of divinity.What mount of vision can with mine compare?Not Roman Jove nor yet Olympian ZeusDarted from loftier ether through bright airOne spark of holier fire for human use.Glad tidings thence these angels downward bring,As at their birth the heavenly choirs do sing.
XIV.
Not Wordsworth’s genius, Pestalozzi’s love,The stream have sounded of clear infancy.Baptismal waters from the Head aboveThese babes I foster daily are to me;I dip my pitcher in these living springsAnd draw, from depths below, sincerity;Unsealed, mine eyes behold all outward thingsArrayed in splendors of divinity.What mount of vision can with mine compare?Not Roman Jove nor yet Olympian ZeusDarted from loftier ether through bright airOne spark of holier fire for human use.Glad tidings thence these angels downward bring,As at their birth the heavenly choirs do sing.
“Fresh as the morning, earnest as the hourThat calls the noisy world to grateful sleep,Our silent thought reveres the nameless powerThat high seclusion round thy life doth keep.”Sanborn.
XV.Daughter, beloved of all, thy tender eye,Sweet disposition, and thy gentle voice,Make every heart, full soon thy close ally,Respect thy wishes, thine unspoken choice,—Hastening, unbidden, therewith to comply;They in thy cheerful countenance rejoice,Kindness unfailing, and quick sympathy.Peacemaker thou, with equanimityAnd aspirations far above thy care,Leavest no duty slighted or undone,Living for thy dear kindred, always there,Faithful as rising and as setting sun.Can I of lovelier mansion be possest,Than in thy heart to dwell a welcome guest?
XV.
Daughter, beloved of all, thy tender eye,Sweet disposition, and thy gentle voice,Make every heart, full soon thy close ally,Respect thy wishes, thine unspoken choice,—Hastening, unbidden, therewith to comply;They in thy cheerful countenance rejoice,Kindness unfailing, and quick sympathy.Peacemaker thou, with equanimityAnd aspirations far above thy care,Leavest no duty slighted or undone,Living for thy dear kindred, always there,Faithful as rising and as setting sun.Can I of lovelier mansion be possest,Than in thy heart to dwell a welcome guest?
“Stern daughter of the voice of God!O Duty, if that name thou love,Who art a light to guide, a rodTo check the erring, and reprove;Thou who art victory and law,When empty terrors overawe;And calm’st the weary strife of frail humanity!”Wordsworth.
XVI.When I remember with what buoyant heart,Midst war’s alarms and woes of civil strife,In youthful eagerness, thou didst depart,At peril of thy safety, peace, and life,To nurse the wounded soldier, swathe the dead—How piercèd soon by fever’s poisoned dart,And brought unconscious home, with wildered head—Thou, ever since, mid languor and dull pain,To conquer fortune, cherish kindred dear,Hast with grave studies vexed a sprightly brain,In myriad households kindled love and cheer;Ne’er from thyself by Fame’s loud trump beguiled,Sounding in this and the farther hemisphere:—I press thee to my heart, as Duty’s faithful child.
XVI.
When I remember with what buoyant heart,Midst war’s alarms and woes of civil strife,In youthful eagerness, thou didst depart,At peril of thy safety, peace, and life,To nurse the wounded soldier, swathe the dead—How piercèd soon by fever’s poisoned dart,And brought unconscious home, with wildered head—Thou, ever since, mid languor and dull pain,To conquer fortune, cherish kindred dear,Hast with grave studies vexed a sprightly brain,In myriad households kindled love and cheer;Ne’er from thyself by Fame’s loud trump beguiled,Sounding in this and the farther hemisphere:—I press thee to my heart, as Duty’s faithful child.
“In deepest passions of my grief-swoll’n breast,Sweet soul, this only comfort seizeth me,That so few years should make thee so much blest,And give such wings to reach eternity.”Brown’s Shepherd’s Pipe.
XVII.’T was not permitted thee the Fates to please,And with survivors share our happier day;For smitten early wast thou by disease,Whilst with thy sisters thou didst smile and play.Wasted by pains and lingering decay,Life’s glowing currents at the source did freeze;Yet, ere the angel summoned thee away,Above thy cheerful couch affection’s rayDid brightly shine, and all thy sufferings ease.Dear child of grace! so patient and so strong,Bound to thy duty by quick sympathy,They did our hearts irreparable wrongTo break the promise of thy infancy;Ah me! life is not life, deprived of thee.
XVII.
’T was not permitted thee the Fates to please,And with survivors share our happier day;For smitten early wast thou by disease,Whilst with thy sisters thou didst smile and play.Wasted by pains and lingering decay,Life’s glowing currents at the source did freeze;Yet, ere the angel summoned thee away,Above thy cheerful couch affection’s rayDid brightly shine, and all thy sufferings ease.Dear child of grace! so patient and so strong,Bound to thy duty by quick sympathy,They did our hearts irreparable wrongTo break the promise of thy infancy;Ah me! life is not life, deprived of thee.
“Will’t ne’er be morning? will that promised lightNe’er break, and clear these clouds of night?Sweet Phosphor, bring the day,Whose conquering rayMay chase these fogs: sweet Phosphor, bring the day.”Quarles.
XVIII.LOVE’S MORROW.I.It was but yesterdayThat all was bright and fair:Came over the sea,So merrily,News from my darling there.Now over the seaComes hither to meKnell of despair,—“No more, no longer there!”
XVIII.LOVE’S MORROW.I.
It was but yesterdayThat all was bright and fair:Came over the sea,So merrily,News from my darling there.Now over the seaComes hither to meKnell of despair,—“No more, no longer there!”
II.Ah! gentle May,Couldst thou not stay?Why hurriedst thou so swift away?No—not the same—Nor can it be—That lovely name—Ever again what once it was to me.It cannot, cannot beThat lovely name to me.
II.
Ah! gentle May,Couldst thou not stay?Why hurriedst thou so swift away?No—not the same—Nor can it be—That lovely name—Ever again what once it was to me.It cannot, cannot beThat lovely name to me.
III.I cannot think her dead,So lately, sweetly wed;She who had tasted bliss,A mother’s virgin kiss,Rich gifts conferred to blessWith costliest happiness,Nobility and graceTo ornament her place.
III.
I cannot think her dead,So lately, sweetly wed;She who had tasted bliss,A mother’s virgin kiss,Rich gifts conferred to blessWith costliest happiness,Nobility and graceTo ornament her place.
IV.Broken the golden band,Severed the silken strand,Ye sisters four!Still to me two remain,And two have gone before:Our loss, her gain,—And He who gave can all restore.And yet—Oh! why,My heart doth cry,Why take her thus away?
IV.
Broken the golden band,Severed the silken strand,Ye sisters four!Still to me two remain,And two have gone before:Our loss, her gain,—And He who gave can all restore.And yet—Oh! why,My heart doth cry,Why take her thus away?
V.I wake in tears and sorrow:Wearily I say,“Come, come, fair morrow,And chase my grief away!”Night-long I say,“Haste, haste, fair morrow,And bear my grief away!”All night long,My sad, sad song.
V.
I wake in tears and sorrow:Wearily I say,“Come, come, fair morrow,And chase my grief away!”Night-long I say,“Haste, haste, fair morrow,And bear my grief away!”All night long,My sad, sad song.
VI.“Comes not the welcome morrow,”My boding heart doth say;Still grief from grief doth borrow;“My child is far away.”Still as I prayThe deeper swells my sorrow.Break, break! The risen dayTakes not my grief away.
VI.
“Comes not the welcome morrow,”My boding heart doth say;Still grief from grief doth borrow;“My child is far away.”Still as I prayThe deeper swells my sorrow.Break, break! The risen dayTakes not my grief away.
VII.Full well I know,Joy’s spring is fathomless,—Its fountains overflowTo cheer and bless,And underneath our griefWell forth and give relief.Transported May!Thou couldst not stay;Who gave, took thee away.Come, child, and whisper peace to me,Say, must I wait, or come to thee?I list to hearThy message clear.
VII.
Full well I know,Joy’s spring is fathomless,—Its fountains overflowTo cheer and bless,And underneath our griefWell forth and give relief.Transported May!Thou couldst not stay;Who gave, took thee away.Come, child, and whisper peace to me,Say, must I wait, or come to thee?I list to hearThy message clear.
VIII.“Cease, cease, new grief to borrow!”Last night I heard her say;“For sorrow hath no morrow,’T is born of yesterday.Translated thou shalt be,My cloudless daylight see,And bathe, as I, in fairest morrows endlessly.”
VIII.
“Cease, cease, new grief to borrow!”Last night I heard her say;“For sorrow hath no morrow,’T is born of yesterday.Translated thou shalt be,My cloudless daylight see,And bathe, as I, in fairest morrows endlessly.”
“Shall not from these remains,From this low mound, dear ashes of the dead,The violet spring?”Persius.
XIX.O Death! thou utterest deeper speech,A tenderer, truer tone,Than all our languages can reach,Though all were voiced in one.Thy glance is deep, and, far beyondAll that our eyes do see,Assures to fairest hopes and fondTheir immortality.
XIX.
O Death! thou utterest deeper speech,A tenderer, truer tone,Than all our languages can reach,Though all were voiced in one.
Thy glance is deep, and, far beyondAll that our eyes do see,Assures to fairest hopes and fondTheir immortality.
Sing, sing, the Immortals,The Ancients of days,Ever crowding the portalsOf Time’s peopled ways;These Babes ever stealingInto Eden’s glad feeling,The fore-world revealing,God’s face ne’er concealing.
XX.Voyager across the seas,In my arms thy form I press;Come, my Baby, me to please,Blue-eyed nurseling, motherless!All is strange and beautiful,Every sense finds glad surprise,Life is lovely, wonderful,Faces fair, and beaming eyes.Safe, ye angels, keep this child,Life-long guard her innocence,Winsome ways, and temper mild;Heaven, our home, be her defence!
XX.
Voyager across the seas,In my arms thy form I press;Come, my Baby, me to please,Blue-eyed nurseling, motherless!
All is strange and beautiful,Every sense finds glad surprise,Life is lovely, wonderful,Faces fair, and beaming eyes.
Safe, ye angels, keep this child,Life-long guard her innocence,Winsome ways, and temper mild;Heaven, our home, be her defence!
“O, how thy worth with manners may I sing,When thou art all the better part of me?What can mine own praise to mine own self bring?And what is’t but mine own when I praise thee?”Shakespeare.
XXI.Dear Heart! if aught to human love I’ve owedFor noble furtherance of the good and fair;Climbed I, by bold emprise, the dizzying stairTo excellence, and was by thee approved,In memory cherished and the more beloved;If fortune smiled, and late-won liberty,—’T was thy kind favor all, thy generous legacy.Nor didst thou spare thy large munificenceMe here to pleasure amply and maintain,But conjured from suspicion and mischance,Exile, misapprehension, cold disdain,For my loved cloud-rapt dream, supremacy;To bright reality transformed romance,Crowning with smiles the hard-earned victory.
XXI.
Dear Heart! if aught to human love I’ve owedFor noble furtherance of the good and fair;Climbed I, by bold emprise, the dizzying stairTo excellence, and was by thee approved,In memory cherished and the more beloved;If fortune smiled, and late-won liberty,—’T was thy kind favor all, thy generous legacy.Nor didst thou spare thy large munificenceMe here to pleasure amply and maintain,But conjured from suspicion and mischance,Exile, misapprehension, cold disdain,For my loved cloud-rapt dream, supremacy;To bright reality transformed romance,Crowning with smiles the hard-earned victory.
“The hills were reared, the valleys scooped in vain,If Learning’s altars vanish from the plain.”Channing.
XXII.Calm vale of comfort, peace, and industry,Well doth thy name thy homebred traits express!—Considerate people, neighborly and free,Proud of their monuments, their ancestry,Their circling river’s quiet loveliness,Their noble townsmen’s fame and history.Nor less I glory in each goodly trait,Child of another creed, a stricter State;I chose thee for my haunt in troublous time,My home in days of late prosperity,And laud thee now in this familiar rhyme;Here on thy bosom the last summons waitTo scenes, if lovelier, still reflecting thee,Resplendent both in hope and memory.
XXII.
Calm vale of comfort, peace, and industry,Well doth thy name thy homebred traits express!—Considerate people, neighborly and free,Proud of their monuments, their ancestry,Their circling river’s quiet loveliness,Their noble townsmen’s fame and history.Nor less I glory in each goodly trait,Child of another creed, a stricter State;I chose thee for my haunt in troublous time,My home in days of late prosperity,And laud thee now in this familiar rhyme;Here on thy bosom the last summons waitTo scenes, if lovelier, still reflecting thee,Resplendent both in hope and memory.
“In sundry moods, ’t was pastime to be boundWithin the sonnet’s scanty plot of ground.”Wordsworth.
“I like that friendship which, by soft gentle pauses, steals upon the affections and grows mellow with time, by reciprocal offices and trials of love; that friendship is like to last long, and never shrink in the wetting.”
Howel.
I.In Youth’s glad morning, when the rising EastGlows golden with assurance of success,And life itself ’s a rare continual feast,Enjoyed the more if meditated less,’T is then that friendship’s pleasures chiefly bless,As if without beginning,—ne’er to end,—So rich the season and so dear the friend,When thou and I went wandering hand in hand;Mine wert thou in our years of earliest prime,Studious at home, or to the southern landAdventuring bold; again in later time,Thy kindly service, always at commandOf calm discretion, and abounding sense,Prompted and showed the path to excellence.
I.
In Youth’s glad morning, when the rising EastGlows golden with assurance of success,And life itself ’s a rare continual feast,Enjoyed the more if meditated less,’T is then that friendship’s pleasures chiefly bless,As if without beginning,—ne’er to end,—So rich the season and so dear the friend,When thou and I went wandering hand in hand;Mine wert thou in our years of earliest prime,Studious at home, or to the southern landAdventuring bold; again in later time,Thy kindly service, always at commandOf calm discretion, and abounding sense,Prompted and showed the path to excellence.
“Power above powers! O heavenly eloquence!That, with the strong rein of commanding words,Dost manage, guide, and master the eminenceOf man’s affections more than all their swords;Shall we not offer to thy excellenceThe richest treasure that our wit affords?Or should we careless come behind the restIn power of words that go before in worth;When all that ever hotter spirits exprestComes bettered by the patience of the North?”Daniel.
II.My thought revives at utterance of thy name,—Doth high behavior, sweet discourse recall,Lit with emotion’s quick and quenchless flame,Imagination interfused through all;Then peals thy voice melodious on mine ear,As when grave anthems thou didst well recite,—Laodamia’s vision sad and dear,Or “Thanatopsis,” or “Hail, Holy Light!”Thou true Professor, gifted to dispenseNew pathos e’en to Channing’s eloquence;If mother tongue they fail to speak or write,Nor Greek nor Latin draw thy pupils thence;Such culture, taught by the far Northern sea,This scholar brings, New England, home to thee.
II.
My thought revives at utterance of thy name,—Doth high behavior, sweet discourse recall,Lit with emotion’s quick and quenchless flame,Imagination interfused through all;Then peals thy voice melodious on mine ear,As when grave anthems thou didst well recite,—Laodamia’s vision sad and dear,Or “Thanatopsis,” or “Hail, Holy Light!”Thou true Professor, gifted to dispenseNew pathos e’en to Channing’s eloquence;If mother tongue they fail to speak or write,Nor Greek nor Latin draw thy pupils thence;Such culture, taught by the far Northern sea,This scholar brings, New England, home to thee.
“Ascending soul, sing Pæan.”Oracle.
III.Christian beloved! devoid of art and wile,—Who lovest thy Lord so well, with heart so true,That neither mist nor mote of worldly guileMay clog thy vision, nor confuse the viewOf that transcendent and commanding styleOf god-like manhood; which had dazed long whileEach purblind brother’s idol-loving eye.Sense overpowering doth the soul belie:Thou the soul’s errand and due place dost see,Its heavenly features to thy ken disclose,As when in Nazareth thy Lord uprose,The Father’s image in Humanity.A holy service thine, interpreterOf Lazarus rising from the sepulchre.
III.
Christian beloved! devoid of art and wile,—Who lovest thy Lord so well, with heart so true,That neither mist nor mote of worldly guileMay clog thy vision, nor confuse the viewOf that transcendent and commanding styleOf god-like manhood; which had dazed long whileEach purblind brother’s idol-loving eye.Sense overpowering doth the soul belie:Thou the soul’s errand and due place dost see,Its heavenly features to thy ken disclose,As when in Nazareth thy Lord uprose,The Father’s image in Humanity.A holy service thine, interpreterOf Lazarus rising from the sepulchre.
“The virtuous mind that ever walks attendedBy a strong siding champion, Conscience.”Milton.
IV.Channing! my Mentor whilst my thought was young,And I the votary of fair liberty,—How hung I then upon thy glowing tongue,And thought of love and truth as one with thee!Thou wast the inspirer of a nobler life,When I with error waged unequal strife,And from its coils thy teaching set me free.Be ye, his followers, to his leading true,Nor privilege covet, nor the wider sway;But hold right onward in his loftier way,As best becomes, and is his rightful due.If learning ’s yours,—gifts God doth least esteem,—Beyond all gifts was his transcendent view;O realize his Pentecostal dream!
IV.
Channing! my Mentor whilst my thought was young,And I the votary of fair liberty,—How hung I then upon thy glowing tongue,And thought of love and truth as one with thee!Thou wast the inspirer of a nobler life,When I with error waged unequal strife,And from its coils thy teaching set me free.Be ye, his followers, to his leading true,Nor privilege covet, nor the wider sway;But hold right onward in his loftier way,As best becomes, and is his rightful due.If learning ’s yours,—gifts God doth least esteem,—Beyond all gifts was his transcendent view;O realize his Pentecostal dream!
“Without oblivion there is no remembrance possible. When both oblivion and memory are wise, then the general soul is clear, melodious, and true.”
Carlyle.
V.Daughter of Memory! who her watch doth keepO’er dark Oblivion’s land of shade and dream,Peers down into the realm of ancient Sleep,Where Thought uprises with a sudden gleamAnd lights the devious path ’twixtBeandSeem;Mythologist! that dost thy legend steepPlenteously with opiate and anodyne,Inweaving fact with fable, line with line,Entangling anecdote and episode,Mindful of all that all men meant or said,—We follow, pleased, thy labyrinthine road,By Ariadne’s skein and lesson led:For thou hast wrought so excellently well,Thou drop’st more casual truth than sages tell.
V.
Daughter of Memory! who her watch doth keepO’er dark Oblivion’s land of shade and dream,Peers down into the realm of ancient Sleep,Where Thought uprises with a sudden gleamAnd lights the devious path ’twixtBeandSeem;Mythologist! that dost thy legend steepPlenteously with opiate and anodyne,Inweaving fact with fable, line with line,Entangling anecdote and episode,Mindful of all that all men meant or said,—We follow, pleased, thy labyrinthine road,By Ariadne’s skein and lesson led:For thou hast wrought so excellently well,Thou drop’st more casual truth than sages tell.
“Not on the store of sprightly wine,Nor plenty of delicious meats,Though gracious Nature did designTo court us with perpetual treats;’Tis not on these we for content depend,So much as on the shadow of a friend.”Menander.
VI.Misfortune to have lived not knowing thee!’T were not high living, nor to noblest end,Who, dwelling near, learned not sincerity,Rich friendship’s ornament that still doth lendTo life its consequence and propriety.Thy fellowship was my culture, noble friend:By the hand thou took’st me, and did’st condescendTo bring me straightway into thy fair guild;And life-long hath it been high complimentBy that to have been known, and thy friend styled,Given to rare thought and to good learning bent;Whilst in my straits an angel on me smiled.Permit me, then, thus honored, still to beA scholar in thy university.
VI.
Misfortune to have lived not knowing thee!’T were not high living, nor to noblest end,Who, dwelling near, learned not sincerity,Rich friendship’s ornament that still doth lendTo life its consequence and propriety.Thy fellowship was my culture, noble friend:By the hand thou took’st me, and did’st condescendTo bring me straightway into thy fair guild;And life-long hath it been high complimentBy that to have been known, and thy friend styled,Given to rare thought and to good learning bent;Whilst in my straits an angel on me smiled.Permit me, then, thus honored, still to beA scholar in thy university.
“He shall not seek to weave,In weak, unhappy times,Efficacious rhymes;Wait his returning strength.Bird, that from the nadir’s floorTo the zenith’s top can soar,The soaring orbit of the Muse exceeds that journey’s length.”
VII.Hierophant, and lyrist of the soul!Clear insight thine of universal mind;While from its crypts the nascent Powers unrol,And represent to consciousness the Whole.Each in its order seeks its natural kind,These latent or apparent, stir or sleep,Watchful o’er widening fields of airy space,Or slumbering sightless in the briny deep;—Thou, far above their shows, servant of Grace,Tread’st the bright way fromSpiritdown to Sense,Interpreting all symbols to thy race,—Commanding vistas of the fair Immense,And glimpses upward far, where, sons of Heaven,Sit in Pantheon throned the Sacred Seven.
VII.
Hierophant, and lyrist of the soul!Clear insight thine of universal mind;While from its crypts the nascent Powers unrol,And represent to consciousness the Whole.Each in its order seeks its natural kind,These latent or apparent, stir or sleep,Watchful o’er widening fields of airy space,Or slumbering sightless in the briny deep;—Thou, far above their shows, servant of Grace,Tread’st the bright way fromSpiritdown to Sense,Interpreting all symbols to thy race,—Commanding vistas of the fair Immense,And glimpses upward far, where, sons of Heaven,Sit in Pantheon throned the Sacred Seven.