A Lovers Diary | Page 3

altitude of calm,?But heard one voice cry, "Follow!" from the throng.
I would not place her as an image high?Above my reach, cold, in some dim recess,?Where never she should feel a warm caress?Of this my hand that serves her till I die.
I would not set her higher than my heart,--?Though she is nobler than I e'er can be;?Because she placed me from the crowd apart,
And with her tenderness she honoured me.?Because of this, I hold me worthier?To be her kinsman, while I worship her.
THE MEETING
O marvel of our nature, that one life?Strikes through the thousand lives that fold it round, To find another, even as a sound?Sweeps to a song through elemental strife!
Through cycles infinite the forces wait,?Which destiny has set for union here;?No circumstance can warp them from their sphere;?They meet sometime; and this is God and Fate.
And God is Law, and Fate is Law in use,?And we are acted on by some deep cause,?Which sanctifies "I will" and "I refuse,"
When Love speaks--Love, the peaceful end of Laws. And I, from many conflicts over-past,?Find here Love, Law, and God, at last.
THE NEST
High as the eagle builds his lonely nest?Above the sea, above the paths of man,?And makes the elements his barbican,?That none may break the mother-eagle's rest;
So build I far above all human eyes?My nest of love; Heaven's face alone bends down?To give it sunlight, starlight; while is blown?A wind upon it out of Paradise.
None shall affright, no harm may come to her,?Whom I have set there in that lofty home:?Love's eye is sleepless; I could feel the stir
E'en of God's cohorts, if they chanced to come.?I am her shield; I would that I might prove?How dear I hold the lady of my love.
WHEN thou makest a voyage to the stars, go thou blindfolded; and carry not a sword, but the sandals of thy youth. --Egyptian Proverb.
SEEK thou the Angel of the Cross Roads ere thou goest upon a journey, and she will give thee wisdom at the Four Corners. --Egyptian Proverb.
PISGAH?Behold, now, I have touched the highest point?In my existence. When I turn my eyes?Backward to scan my outlived agonies,?I feel God's finger touch me, to anoint
With this sweet Present the ungenerous Past,?With love the wounds that struck stark in my soul; With hope life's aching restlessness and dole;?To show me place to anchor in at last.
Like to a mother bending o'er the bed?Where sleeps, death-silent, one that left her side Ere he had reached the flow of manhood's tide,
So stood I by my life whence Life had fled.?But Life came back at Love's clear trumpet-call,?And at Love's feet I cast the useless pall.
LOVE IS ENOUGH
It is enough that in this burdened time?The soul sees all its purposes aright.?The rest--what does it matter? Soon the night?Will come to whelm us, then the morning chime.
What does it matter, if but in the way?One hand clasps ours, one heart believes us true; One understands the work we try to do,?And strives through Love to teach us what to say?
Between me and the chilly outer air?Which blows in from the world, there standeth one Who draws Love's curtains closely everywhere,
As God folds down the banners of the sun.?Warm is my place about me, and above?Where was the raven, I behold the dove.
AT THE PLAY
I felt her fan my shoulder touch to-night.?Soft act, faint touch, no meaning did it bear?To any save myself, who felt the air?Of a new feeling cross my soul's clear sight.
To me what matter that the players played!?They grew upon the instant like the toys?Which dance before the sight of idle boys;?I could not hear the laughter that they made.
Swept was I on that breath her hand had drawn,?Through the dull air, into a mountain-space,?Where shafts of the bright sun-god interlace,
Making the promise of a golden dawn.?And straightway crying, "O my heart, rejoice!"?It found its music in my lady's voice.
SO CALM THE WORLD
Far up the sky the sunset glamour spreads,?Far off the city lies in golden mist;?The sea grows calm, the waves the sun has kissed?Strike white hands softly 'gainst the rocky heads.
So calm the world, so still the city lies,?So warm the haze that spreads o'er everything;?And yet where, there, Peace sits as Lord and King, Havoc will reign when next the sun shall rise.
The wheels pause only for a little space,?And in the pause they gather strength again.?'Tis but the veil drawn over Labour's face,
O'er strife, derision, and the sin of men.?My heart with a sweet inner joy o'erflows?To nature's peace, and a kind silence knows.
THE WELCOME
But see: my lady comes. I hear her feet?Upon the sward; she standeth by my side.?Just such a face Raphael had deified,?If in his day they two had chanced to meet.
And I, tossed by the tide of circumstance,?Lifting weak hands against a host of swords,?Paused suddenly to hear her gentle