Music and Other Poems | Page 4

reward is won.?Not far thou lookest, but thy sight is clear;?Not much thou knowest, but thy faith is dear;?For life is love, and love is always near.?Here friendship lights the fire, and every heart,?Sure of itself and sure of all the rest,?Dares to be true, and gladly takes its part?In open converse, bringing forth its best:?Here is Sweet music, melting every chain
Of lassitude and pain:?And here, at last, is sleep, the gift of gifts,
The tender nurse, who lifts?The soul grown weary of the waking world,?And lays it, with its thoughts all furled,?Its fears forgotten, and its passions still,?On the deep bosom of the Eternal Will.
August, 1901.
VICTOR HUGO
1802-1902
Heart of France for a hundred years,
Passionate, sensitive, proud, and strong,?Quick to throb with her hopes and fears,?Fierce to flame with her sense of wrong!?You, who hailed with a morning song?Dream-light gilding a throne of old:?You, who turned when the dream grew cold,?Singing still, to the light that shone?Pure from Liberty's ancient throne,
Over the human throng!?You, who dared in the dark eclipse,--?When the pygmy heir of a giant name?Dimmed the face of the land with shame,--?Speak the truth with indignant lips,?Call him little whom men called great,
Scoff at him, scorn him, deny him,?Point to the blood on his robe of state,
Fling back his bribes and defy him!
You, who fronted the waves of fate?As you faced the sea from your island home,?Exiled, yet with a soul elate,?Sending songs o'er the rolling foam,?Bidding the heart of man to wait
For the day when all should see?Floods of wrath from the frowning skies?Fall on an Empire founded in lies,?And France again be free!?You, who came in the Terrible Year?Swiftly back to your broken land,?Now to your heart a thousand times more dear,--?Prayed for her, sung to her, fought for her,?Patiently, fervently wrought for her,
Till once again,?After the storm of fear and pain,?High in the heavens the star of France stood clear!
You, who knew that a man must take?Good and ill with a steadfast soul,?Holding fast, while the billows roll?Over his head, to the things that make?Life worth living for great and small,--
Honour and pity and truth,?The heart and the hope of youth,?And the good God over all!
You, to whom work was rest,?Dauntless Toiler of the Sea,?Following ever the joyful quest?Of beauty on the shores of old Romance,?Bard of the poor of France,?And warrior-priest of world-wide charity!
You who loved little children best?Of all the poets that ever sung,
Great heart, golden heart,?Old, and yet ever young,
Minstrel of liberty,?Lover of all free, winged things,?Now at last you are free,--?Your soul has its wings!?Heart of France for a hundred years,?Floating far in the light that never fails you,?Over the turmoil of mortal hopes and fears?Victor, forever victor, the whole world hails you!
March, 1902.
GOD OF THE OPEN AIR
I
Thou who hast made thy dwelling fair
With flowers beneath, above with starry lights,?And set thine altars everywhere,--
On mountain heights,?In woodlands dim with many a dream,
In valleys bright with springs,?And on the curving capes of every stream:?Thou who hast taken to thyself the wings
Of morning, to abide?Upon the secret places of the sea,?And on far islands, where the tide?Visits the beauty of untrodden shores,?Waiting for worshippers to come to thee
In thy great out-of-doors!?To thee I turn, to thee I make my prayer,
God of the open air.
II
Seeking for thee, the heart of man
Lonely and longing ran,?In that first, solitary hour,
When the mysterious power?To know and love the wonder of the morn?Was breathed within him, and his soul was born;
And thou didst meet thy child,?Not in some hidden shrine,?But in the freedom of the garden wild,
And take his hand in thine,--?There all day long in Paradise he walked,?And in the cool of evening with thee talked.
III
Lost, long ago, that garden bright and pure,?Lost, that calm day too perfect to endure,?And lost the childlike love that worshipped and was sure!?For men have dulled their eyes with sin,?And dimmed the light of heaven with doubt,?And built their temple walls to shut thee in,?And framed their iron creeds to shut thee out.?But not for thee the closing of the door,
O Spirit unconfined!?Thy ways are free?As is the wandering wind,?And thou hast wooed thy children, to restore
Their fellowship with thee,?In peace of soul and simpleness of mind.
IV
Joyful the heart that, when the flood rolled by,?Leaped up to see the rainbow in the sky;?And glad the pilgrim, in the lonely night,?For whom the hills of Haran, tier on tier,?Built up a secret stairway to the height?Where stars like angel eyes were shining clear.?From mountain-peaks, in many a land and age,?Disciples of the Persian seer?Have hailed the rising sun and worshipped thee;?And wayworn followers of the Indian sage?Have found the peace of God beneath a spreading tree.
But One, but One,--ah, child most dear,?And perfect image of the Love Unseen,--?Walked every day in pastures green,?And all his life the quiet waters by,?Reading their beauty with a