Music and Other Poems | Page 5

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 tranquil eye.
To him the desert was a place prepared
For weary hearts to rest;
The hillside was a temple blest;
The grassy
vale a banquet-room
Where he could feed and comfort many a guest.
With him the lily shared
The vital joy that breathes itself in bloom;

And every bird that sang beside the nest
Told of the love that broods
o'er every living thing.
He watched the shepherd bring
His flock at sundown to the welcome
fold,
The fisherman at daybreak fling
His net across the waters gray
and cold,
And all day long the patient reaper swing
His curving
sickle through the harvest-gold.
So through the world the foot-path
way he trod,
Drawing the air of heaven in every breath;
And in the
evening sacrifice of death
Beneath the open sky he gave his soul to
God.
Him will I trust, and for my Master take;
Him will I follow;
and for his dear sake,
God of the open air,
To thee I make my prayer.
V
>From the prison of anxious thought that greed has builded, >From the
fetters that envy has wrought and pride has gilded, >From the noise of
the crowded ways and the fierce confusion, >From the folly that wastes

its days in a world of illusion, (Ah, but the life is lost that frets and
languishes there!) I would escape and be free in the joy of the open air.
By the breadth of the blue that shines in silence o'er me,
By the length
of the mountain-lines that stretch before me, By the height of the cloud
that sails, with rest in motion, Over the plains and the vales to the
measureless ocean,
(Oh, how the sight of the things that are great
enlarges the eyes!) Lead me out of the narrow life, to the peace of the
hills
and the skies.
While the tremulous leafy haze on the woodland is spreading, And the
bloom on the meadow betrays where May has been treading; While the
birds on the branches above, and the brooks flowing under, Are singing
together of love in a world full of wonder,
(Lo, in the marvel of
Springtime, dreams are changed into truth!) Quicken my heart, and
restore the beautiful hopes of youth.
By the faith that the flowers show when they bloom unbidden, By the
calm of the river's flow to a goal that is hidden,
By the trust of the
tree that clings to its deep foundation, By the courage of wild birds'
wings on the long migration,
(Wonderful secret of peace that abides
in Nature's breast!) Teach me how to confide, and live my life, and rest.
For the comforting warmth of the sun that my body embraces, For the
cool of the waters that run through the shadowy places, For the balm of
the breezes that brush my face with their fingers, For the vesper-hymn
of the thrush when the twilight lingers, For the long breath, the deep
breath, the breath
of a heart without care,--
I will give thanks and adore thee, God of the
open air!
VI
These are the gifts I ask
Of thee, Spirit serene:
Strength for the

daily task,
Courage to face the road,
Good cheer to help me bear the
traveller's load,
And, for the hours of rest that come between,
An
inward joy in all things heard and seen.
These are the sins I fain
Would have thee take away:
Malice, and
cold disdain,
Hot anger, sullen hate,
Scorn of the lowly, envy of the
great,
And discontent that casts a shadow gray
On all the brightness
of the common day.
These are the things I prize
And hold of dearest worth:
Light of the
sapphire skies,
Peace of the silent hills,
Shelter of forests, comfort
of the grass,
Music of birds, murmur