Excerpt
DEDICATORY POEM.
Dear Carrie, were we truly wise, And could discern with finer eyes, And half-inspired sense, The ways of Providence:
Could we but know the hidden things That brood beneath the Future's wings, Hermetically sealed, But soon to be revealed:
Would we, more blest than we are now, In due submission learn to bow,— Receiving on our knees The Omnipotent decrees?
That which is just, we have. And we Who lead this round of mystery, This dance of strange unrest, What are we at the best?—
Unless we learn to mount and climb; Writing upon the page of time, In words of joy or pain, That we've not lived in vain.
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We all are Ministers of Good; And where our mission's understood, How many hearts we must Raise, trembling, from the dust.
Oh, strong young soul, and thinking brain! Walk wisely through the fair domain Where burn the sacred fires Of Music's sweet desires!
Cherish thy Gift; and let it be A Jacob's ladder unto thee, Down which the Angels come, To bring thee dreams of Home.
What were we if the pulse of Song Had never beat, nor found a tongue To make the Poet known In lands beyond his own?
Take what is said for what is meant. We sometimes touch the firmament Of starry Thought—no more; Beyond, we may not soar.
I speak not of myself, but stand In silence till the Master Hand Each fluttering thought sets free. God holds the golden key.
Kingston, C. W., May 1st, 1860.
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HESPERUS: A LEGEND OF THE STARS. PRELUDE.The Stars are heaven's ministers; Right royally they teach God's glory and omnipotence, In wondrous lowly speech. All eloquent with music as The tremblings of a lyre, To him that hath an ear to hear They speak in words of fire.
Not to learned sagas only Their whisperings come down; The monarch is not glorified Because he wears a crown. The humblest soldier in the camp Can win the smile of Mars, And 'tis the lowliest spirits hold Communion with the stars.
Thoughts too refined for utterance, Ethereal as the air, Crowd through the brain's dim labyrinths, And leave their impress there;{12}
As far along the gleaming void Man's tender glances roll, Wonder usurps the throne of speech, But vivifies the soul.
Oh, heaven-cradled mysteries, What sacred paths ye've trod— Bright, jewelled scintillations from The chariot-wheels of God! When in the spirit He rode forth, With vast creative aim, These were His footprints left behind, To magnify His name!
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We gazed on the Evening Star, Mary and I, As it shone On its throne Afar, In the blue sky; Shone like a ransomed soul In the depths of that quiet heaven; Like a pearly tear, Trembling with fear On the pallid cheek of Even....