Poems | Page 9

pat forth his speed--these wings of mine?Shall match him stroke for stroke, until we reach?The limits of his empire, and I shake him off?Like dust upon the threshold of the world."
WHITHER?
Whither away, youth, whither away,?With lightsome step, and with joyous heart,?And eyes that Hope's gay glances dart??Whither away--whither away?
Into the world, the glorious world,?To gain the prize, of the brave and bold,?To snatch the crown from the age of gold--?Into the world--into the world!
Whither away, girl, whither away??Thy soft blue eyes are suffused with love,?And thy smile is as bright as the sunshine above,--?Whither away, whither away?
Into the world, the beautiful world,?To meet the heart that must mate with mine,?And make the measure of life divine,--?Into the world, into the world.
Whither away, old man, whither away,?With locks of white, and form bent low,?And trembling hands, and steps so slow??Whither away,--whither away?
Out of the world, Oh! the weary world,?With its empty pleasures, and poison'd joys,?Whose draught first gladdens, and then destroys--?Out of the world, out of the world,?With shatter'd hopes, and with feeble frame,?From Life's sharp struggle, and unsped aim,--?Out of the world, Oh! the weary world.
Whither away, poor one, whither away??Hurrying swiftly, with weeping eyes,?And hectic cheeks, and smother'd sighs,?Whither away--whither away?
Out of the world, oh! the cold, cold world!?Oh! Father, my heart ... but there is rest?For the sinking soul, and the bruis��d breast,?Out of the world--out of the world!
THE MORNING STAR.
Night's heavy hand is lifted up at last,?And my freed heart beats evenly again,?Unpress'd by that dull heavy weight of pain?Cast backward from the unforgotten Past;?Darkness no longer muffles Time's slow tread,?Till my own pulse-beat mark the moment fled.
Over the speeding shadows, calm and clear,?Rises the Star of Morn upon the Earth,?Eternal Prophet of the Sun-god's birth,?Shining serenely from its silver sphere?Mute mystic meanings on the strengthen'd soul,?Till all its night-bred vapours backward roll.
Oh, bright-eyed Angel of the undimm'd Light,?Standing upon Heaven's pinnacle, thy glance?Pierces like two-edged sword through many a trance,?Dividing Truth from Dreaming in its might,?Scourging Doubt's myriads from Day's temple-gate,?Leaving Life's worship pure, its heart elate.
No herald thou of Night, like Hesper fair,?Pale with the dreaded Future's shapeless gloom,?Leading the spirit to an unknown doom,?Through clouds and darkness heavy fraught with care,?Hesper the beautiful alone our guide,?Beset by blinding fears on every side.
Groping through Night's dim chambers wearily,?Longing to leave its cold sepulchral aisles,?Comest thou with thy calm assuring smiles,?Like Nemesis to lead us tenderly?Through all the dangers of the murky way,?Unto the golden portals of the Day.
Yea! Night and Death shall pass away, and we,?By resurrection sweet, arise new-born?Like thee in glory, bright one, Sons of Morn,?Without a shade on our felicity,?Eyeing the fleeting vapours of the Past,?As thou dost now Night's mists dissolving fast.
THE DELECTABLE MOUNTAINS.
How light and pleasant is the way?Across this quiet valley, whose soft mead?Springs lightly as the air that angels tread,?Beneath our footsteps weariless all day!?This crystal river flowing by our side,?One stream of sunshine, still has seem'd a guide?From Heaven in pure angelical array.
These purple mountains now are nigh,?That all the valley through have fill'd our eyes?With day-dreams of the distant Paradise,?Their sun-surrounded summits can descry--?We mount them now upon Hope's bounding wing,?That makes each short swift footstep long to spring?Suddenly upward to the shadeless sky.
The air methinks is lighter here--?And the breast heaves with full untrammell'd ease,?Drinking the life-draught of the fragrant breeze,?That wafts its soul-sighs to another sphere.?Earth groweth little in our eyes, but fair,?Fair as though sin had never enter'd there--?Earth groweth little as Heaven draweth near.
This rock--and then at last we stand?Upon the silent summit--scarce I dare?Gaze outward, through the clear and azure air,?Towards the radiance of the Promised Land:?I am so weak and fallen, friend, I fear?Mine eyes will dazzle, and the light appear?Darkness, so that I shall not see the Promised Land.
Look thou afar, and tell me true?What thou discernest!--Oh! my eyes grow dim,?And floods of golden glories seem to swim,?Wave upon wave, through all the cloudless blue,?Blinding me with their sunny splendors quite,?So that, amid the pure excess of light,?But vaguest visions faintly glimmer through.
Yet now, methinks, I seem to see?One spot of burning brightness, beaming clear?Through all the floating glory, like a sphere?Quenching light with its own intensity.?Yes! yes! it is the Holy City I behold,?With God's sun, from its towers of burnish'd gold,?Reflected broadly through immensity!
I must gaze out, although I die:?Ah! yes, I see it through my longing tears--?A great clear glow of glory there appears,?Like a light-fountain in the eastern sky,?That as I gaze pours forth its living light,?Flooding Creation, till the dazzled sight?Sees Heaven in all things that around it lie.
So shall it ever henceforth be--?Who, that discerneth once God's dwelling-place,?Can blot from vision the refulgent trace!?Ay! henceforth all things shall be Heaven to me--?And as I journey on shall brightly rise?Divinest semblances of Paradise--?Heaven mine