A dignity of sadness filled his heart, That sadness, born of immortality, Which they alone who live in art Feel in its sweetness and its mystery, Half-filled already with infinity.
Yea, Zeus was wise when he decreed him blind, And wiser still when he decreed him poor; For insight grew as outer sight declined, And want overrode the ills it could not cure, Else rhapsody had lacked its lay most pure.
OUR UNDERLYING EXISTENCE.
O Fool, that wisdom dost despise, Thou knowest not, thou canst not guess Another part of thee is wise And silent sees thy foolishness.
Yet, fool, how dare I pity thee Because my heart reveres the sages; The fool lies also deep in me; We all are one beneath the ages.
TO ______.
"Creation--G.o.d"s kind giving-- Continues: did not at one Adam end.
New realms start open to each generation, Each man receives some gift, some revelation: I, in this late age living, The gift, the new-creation of a friend.
TO A DEBUTANTE.
Thou who smilest in thy freshness, Bright as bud in morning dew; Keep this thought in thy heart"s bower "Ever turn, like sunward flower, To the Good, the Fair, the True."
A PROBLEM.
Once, in the University of Life, _Remember_ and _Inquire_, my old Professors, A question hard requested me to solve: "How can man"s love be great and be eternal If Right forewarns he may be called to leave it: Whether should Love rule Duty and be all, Or Duty turn his back on sweet Love crying?"
I paused--then spoke, not having what to answer: "Ye know, Professors, how to utter problems And man perplex with his own elements.
Yet I believe the ways ye teach are perfect And able are you what ye set to solve.-- Admiring you, however, aids me nothing, I speak because I have not what to answer."
"Ponder," they said, those quiet, sage Professors,
I had seen Love--O Vision, I was near thee When Death refused that I should speak with thee!
And I had seen her soft eyes" trustful brightness Wondrous look down into the soul of many And lead it out and make it of eternity.
Yes, truly, in her look men find true being!-- What ruin if such being must be withered!
I had seen Duty--soldier of his G.o.d-- Of Virtue and of Order sentinel-- Grand his firm countenance with obedience.
His troth to Love would everlasting be Or nothing. What then should commanding orders Bid him have done with her and all renounce?
How can he look on Love and know this shadow?
"I see no answer," answered I dejected, "Except that either Love must be abased, Or he resign perfection in his calling."
"Nay," said they, but by strange, clear apparatus (Whereof within that College there is much) Gave ill.u.s.tration--paraphrased as follows: "Thou hast not reckoned for eternity.
The True fears not Forever: fear thou not.
Duty and Love are n.o.ble man and wife (If otherwise thou see them "tis illusion), "Tis she sends Duty forth with dear embrace And proudest of his battle through her tears Encourages: "Regard me not but strike!"
And "If thou must depart alas, depart!
Follow thy n.o.blest, I am ever true!"
He strikes and presses, sending back his heart As forward moves his foot on the arena; Or marches bravely far and far, until Hope of return as mortal disappears: This should true soul endure, though everlasting-- But then, besides, we know that One has mercy."
TO A FELLOW-STUDENT OF KANT.
The sweet star of the Bethlehem night Beauteous guides and true, And still, to me and you With only local, legendary light.
For us who hither look with eyes afar From constellations of philosophy, All light is from the Cradle; the true star, Serene o"er distance, in the Life we see.
TO THE SOUL.
AN ODE OF EVOLUTION
O lark aspire!
Aspire forever, in thy morning sky!-- Forever soul, beat bravely, gladly, higher, And sing and sing that sadness is a lie.
Forever, soul, achieve!
Droop not an instant into sloth and rest.
Live in a changeless moment of the best And lower heights to Heaven forgotten leave.
Man still will strive.
Delight of battle leaped within his sires.
They laughed at death; and Life was all alive: In him not blood it seeks, but vast desires.
He wakens from a dream Reviews the forms he fought in ages gone-- He or his ancestors, their shapes are one:-- And also of himself the forms he battled seem.
He sees the truth!
"I wrestled with myself, and rose to strength.
Still be that progress mine!--I see at length All World, all Soul are one, all ages youth!"
THE PALMER.
O solemn clime to which my spirit looks, No more will I the path to thee defer,-- Worn here with search--a too sad wanderer,-- The dance-tune spent, surpa.s.sed the sacred books, And spurned that city"s walls where I did plan A thousand lives, unwitting I was pent; As though my thousand lives could be content With any vista in the bounds of man!
Eternal clime, our exile is from thee!
Flood o"er thy portals like the tender morn!-- Receive! receive! and let us new be born!
We are thy substance--spirit of thy degree-- Mist of thy bliss--fire, love, infinity!
And only by some mischance from thee torn.
THE ARTIST"S PRAYER.
I know thee not, O Spirit fair!