""Yea, yea, sweet Prince; thyself shalt see, Wilt thou but down this slope with me; "Tis palpable," whispered Sense.
-- At the foot of the hill a living rill Shone, and the lilies shone white above; "But now "twas black, "twas a river, this rill,"
("Black?" quoth Love)
""Ay, black, but lo! the lilies grow, And yon-side where was woe, was woe, -- Where the rabble of souls," cried Sense, "Did shrivel and turn and beg and burn, Thrust back in the brimstone from above -- Is banked of violet, rose, and fern:"
"How?" quoth Love:
""For lakes of pain, yon pleasant plain Of woods and gra.s.s and yellow grain Doth ravish the soul and sense: And never a sigh beneath the sky, And folk that smile and gaze above --"
"But saw"st thou here, with thine own eye, h.e.l.l?" quoth Love.
""I saw true h.e.l.l with mine own eye, True h.e.l.l, or light hath told a lie, True, verily," quoth stout Sense.
Then Love rode round and searched the ground, The caves below, the hills above; "But I cannot find where thou hast found h.e.l.l," quoth Love.
"There, while they stood in a green wood And marvelled still on Ill and Good, Came suddenly Minister Mind.
"In the heart of sin doth h.e.l.l begin: "Tis not below, "tis not above, It lieth within, it lieth within:"
("Where?" quoth Love)
""I saw a man sit by a corse; "h.e.l.l"s in the murderer"s breast: remorse!"
Thus clamored his mind to his mind: Not fleshly dole is the sinner"s goal, h.e.l.l"s not below, nor yet above, "Tis fixed in the ever-d.a.m.ned soul --"
"Fixed?" quoth Love --
""Fixed: follow me, would"st thou but see: He weepeth under yon willow tree, Fast chained to his corse," quoth Mind.
Full soon they pa.s.sed, for they rode fast, Where the piteous willow bent above.
"Now shall I see at last, at last, h.e.l.l," quoth Love.
"There when they came Mind suffered shame: "These be the same and not the same,"
A-wondering whispered Mind.
Lo, face by face two spirits pace Where the blissful willow waves above: One saith: "Do me a friendly grace --"
("Grace!" quoth Love)
""Read me two Dreams that linger long, Dim as returns of old-time song That flicker about the mind.
I dreamed (how deep in mortal sleep!) I struck thee dead, then stood above, With tears that none but dreamers weep;"
"Dreams," quoth Love;
""In dreams, again, I plucked a flower That clung with pain and stung with power, Yea, nettled me, body and mind."
""Twas the nettle of sin, "twas medicine; No need nor seed of it here Above; In dreams of hate true loves begin."
"True," quoth Love.
""Now strange," quoth Sense, and "Strange," quoth Mind, "We saw it, and yet "tis hard to find, -- But we saw it," quoth Sense and Mind.
Stretched on the ground, beautiful-crowned Of the piteous willow that wreathed above, "But I cannot find where ye have found h.e.l.l," quoth Love."
____ Baltimore, 1878-9.
IV. Tyranny.
"Spring-germs, spring-germs, I charge you by your life, go back to death.
This glebe is sick, this wind is foul of breath.
Stay: feed the worms.
"Oh! every clod Is faint, and falters from the war of growth And crumbles in a dreary dust of sloth, Unploughed, untrod.
"What need, what need, To hide with flowers the curse upon the hills, Or sanctify the banks of sluggish rills Where vapors breed?
"And -- if needs must -- Advance, O Summer-heats! upon the land, And bake the b.l.o.o.d.y mould to shards and sand And dust.
"Before your birth, Burn up, O Roses! with your dainty flame.
Good Violets, sweet Violets, hide shame Below the earth.
"Ye silent Mills, Reject the bitter kindness of the moss.
O Farms! protest if any tree emboss The barren hills.
"Young Trade is dead, And swart Work sullen sits in the hillside fern And folds his arms that find no bread to earn, And bows his head.
"Spring-germs, spring-germs, Albeit the towns have left you place to play, I charge you, sport not. Winter owns to-day, Stay: feed the worms."
____ Prattville, Alabama, 1868.
V. Life and Song.
"If life were caught by a clarionet, And a wild heart, throbbing in the reed, Should thrill its joy and trill its fret, And utter its heart in every deed,
"Then would this breathing clarionet Type what the poet fain would be; For none o" the singers ever yet Has wholly lived his minstrelsy,
"Or clearly sung his true, true thought, Or utterly bodied forth his life, Or out of life and song has wrought The perfect one of man and wife;
"Or lived and sung, that Life and Song Might each express the other"s all, Careless if life or art were long Since both were one, to stand or fall:
"So that the wonder struck the crowd, Who shouted it about the land: "His song was only living aloud, His work, a singing with his hand!""
____ 1868.
VI. To Richard Wagner.
"I saw a sky of stars that rolled in grime.
All glory twinkled through some sweat of fight, From each tall chimney of the roaring time That shot his fire far up the sooty night Mixt fuels -- Labor"s Right and Labor"s Crime -- Sent upward throb on throb of scarlet light Till huge hot blushes in the heavens blent With golden hues of Trade"s high firmament.
"Fierce burned the furnaces; yet all seemed well, Hope dreamed rich music in the rattling mills.
"Ye foundries, ye shall cast my church a bell,"
Loud cried the Future from the farthest hills: "Ye groaning forces, crack me every sh.e.l.l Of customs, old constraints, and narrow ills; Thou, lithe Invention, wake and pry and guess, Till thy deft mind invents me Happiness."