3/57 3 :Mi '> '«!* 'z3^ ^fm 2^^,:W LIBRARY OF CONGRESS, ®^p. y'-'. Sappig^t f 0. Shelf -.-W^S UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. ''^-^^ >..i "D" :> :t>i>)i>>>^:? :» >> > > ^ >>■ 3> .V _-., _^__ f^^'' ^W ■- W^iSi^ '■^S- ■>:55.;-^^^* '^^^^■^ ■::m> '> / V '■ 1*9 . H -:^. ^*^?<'?' ^ -1^. '^h if** =^i ^ m FROM TIME '1 A BOOK OF VEESE •?P .#v^- r/ a W. WEITZE.L FROM TIME TO TIME A BOOK OF VERSE S. W. WEITZEL NEW YORK ANSON D. F. RANDOLPH & COMPANY (incorporated) 182 FIFTH AVENUE \l^^~-^^^^X, Copyright, 1892, bv Anson D. F. Randolph & Company, ^ Incorporated). PRESS OF EDWARD O. JENKINS' SON. NEW YORK. CONTENTS. New Faiths 5 The Puritan 6 Browning 7 Matthew Arnold .... 8 Alchemy lO The Cross by the Wayside II The Angel's Tarrying-Place 12 That Quiet Life .... 15 A Cloud Rift i6 Holy Innocents '7 Easter Even i8 Love's Opportunity .... 19 The Answer and the Call . 21 No Evil 23 Not by Sight 25 "And being Baptized, and Praying" 27 The Star at Dav/n .... 28 Daybreak 30 Joy in Heaven • 31 Nature's Secret • 33 Lost.— A Sorrow .... • 36 CONTENTS. PAGE Above the Storm 37 39 42 44 45 " Who hath Ears to Hear " . judica me, domine Laws and Law .... "Work To-day in my Vineyard' Fritz von Uhde's Painting in the Na- tional Gallery at Berlin, (" Komm, Herr Jesu, sei unser Gast,") . . .47 Blind Gentian answers Questions In a February Garden. California The Clock says it ... . Looking Back Given in Sleep From One who went away in haste Forever 50 53 55 56 57 62 63 NEW FAITHS. New ? — so, O Lord, Thy tender mercies are. So freshly blooms in heaven each evening's star ; New, — yet from everlasting Truth is true, Ever of old the wise Thy wisdom knew. Newly man's plummet sounds the gracious deeps. Clearer his eye may catch the glorious steeps, — 'Tis the same mountain-top serene above. The same still ocean of eternal Love. THE PURITAN. THE PURITAN. Narrow, 'tis true, yet deep and high ; His bounded vision climbed the sky. Scant was the heaven above his head ? — That straitened space he keenly read. Not the far galaxy's expanse Caught reaching thought or roving glance On some great stars he fixed his gaze. By them he guided words and ways. The walls that closed his nature round Were mountains set in solid ground. Convictions rock-like, stern, assured. Not misty doubts his view obscured. STUDIES FOR TWO PORTRAITS. / STUDIES FOR TWO PORTRAITS. I. ROBERT BROWNING. A man of strength, whose noble word of cheer Rings true as cymbal of the fire-tried gold ; Who sings no song but makes the spirit bold; Unflinching optimist, and dumb to fear ! Seek not to know, he says, but struggle here In manful faith, and with the world grow old, And learn the truth that year to year hath told. And dying learn it all, gain vision clear. 8 STUDIES FOR TWO PORTRAITS. Yet never comes misgiving faith to rout ? Aye, who so rich but knows some treas- ure lost ? So high but scaled the hight from deeps immense ? He gives no word to question or to doubt ; Against a weakling world he holds his trust, And takes the kingdom as by violence. II. MATTHEW ARNOLD. A man of truth whose careful soul hath wrought I'o keep the path through tangled, joy- less wild, Dim scene with cross lights vexed and snares beguiled ; Nor certitude, nor place, but honor fraught STUDIES FOR TWO PORTRAFfS. 9 With honor's satisfaction. Bold in naught, Yet brave with lofty braveness ; as some child Obedient took his burden up, nor smiled Nor wept, but bore. No prayer he offered, sought No good for self lest self should baffle it. No title his to faith's sublime repose, I?ut toil, though purposeless, is good, he said. And blindfold toiled. Then meek, in si- lence fit. Stepped swiftly in where Truth fresh as- pect shows. " Life's old, death's new." What knowl- ediie waits him dead ? 10 ALCHEMY. ALCHEMY. 'TWAS but a murky drop,— the legend told,— A human tear. The elements wrought, Time's forces mani- fold ;— A gem is here. Flashing with hints of sunset rose and gold, And crystal clear. THE CROSS BY THE WAYSIDE. I I THE CROSS BY THE WAYSIDE. It falls along the dusty way Where pleasure's pilgrims day by day, And weary toilers grave and slow, And merry little children go, — The shadow of the cross ! We know not, but Thou, Lord, dost know How oft the burdens lighter grow. How sweet thoughts to the children come, And to the traveler thoughts of Home At sight of Thy dear cross. Nature, more true than we can be. Has daily some fresh gift for Thee ; In summer nestling harebells grow. In winter wreaths of fairest snow Adorn Thy blessed cross. 12 THE ANGELS TARRYING-PLACE. THE ANGEL'S TARRYING-PLACE. An angel, it was v/hispered, had come down When morning blossomed o'er the sleeping town, With gifts from heaven man's irksome life to bless, — Joys to make richer, sorrows to redress, — If one the spirit's tarrying-place might guess. If one might find him, what a boon were here ! Wine of high courage flagging souls to cheer, Faith with bright promise waiting hearts to stay, THE angel's TARRYING-PLACE. I Love to bear burdens and beguile the way, Peace to crown all as evening crowns the day. I wandered forth to seek the blessed guest. Where would he fold his pinions bright, and rest ? Along the busy streets his face I sought, Amid the hurrying scenes where commerce wrought ; Not once the gleaming of his wangs I caught. Rather he'll dwell upon the hills, I said. Upon whose brow the sky's full grace is shed, In far sought cave, or by the river's flow, Where free winds wander and the spring flowers blow ; — But all the sweet, wild voices answered, No. 14 THE ANGELS TARRYKNG-PLACE. Then last, in weariness, the day far spent, Beneath the evening star I homeward went. Vain all my patient search. My heart was sore, Long had I sought, and wide. What could I more? — I found the angel at my own closed door. Ah, heart, for blessedness look not afar ! Where duty's joys, where duty's labors are. In homely paths, in quiet nooks it hides, With lowly souls and home-keeping abides, And folds its white wings at our own fire- sides. THAT QUIET LIFE. 1 5 THAT QUIET LIFE. Lord, oft I think what I would do, — How far and wide Thy glory show. How by my touch the world Ld move, How by my word the truth Ld prove, — And mourn my hand can grasp no more. And mourn my voice of little power. Then comes a thought — a greater thought, Of a still work that once was wrought, A noiseless step, a gentle touch, A fame that moved the world not much ; Only a few those hands could reach, Only a few those lips could teach ; — A sweet rebuke that life to me, That quiet life in Galilee. l6 A CLOUD RIFT. A CLOUD RIFT. I LOOKED upon my little grave, all green, Rounded with tender care, and blossom- ing With happy promises of earthly spring ; I whispered, " Here she sleeps." — Then on the scene A gleam of softer, brighter radiance fell, A messenger — an angel — came to me ; " Ah, look," he said. " Lift up thine eyes and see." I saw that busy place where spirits dwell, I saw the children run to do His will, Swift, happy service ! — sweet activity ! I saw — I saw her by the angel's side, I smiled upon her. I was satisfied. Ah me ! the gleam, the brighter light was gone. I saw again the little grave alone. HOLY INNOCENTS. 1 7 HOLY INNOCENTS. Oh ! little hearts forever innocent, Warm with earth's love, from all earth's soiling clear. Bless God that — here your lovingness not spent — Ye now love there ! Oh ! little voices sweet with earthly tone Yet pure with heavenly, — faint to our dull ear, Bless God ye joined a moment in our song, And now praise there ! Oh ! little white wings, reverent and at rest. Folded before His face in happy fear. Bless God ye nestled once on mother's breast, And now pause there ! EASTER EVEN. EASTER EVEN. "And they returned and prepared spices and oint- ments, and rested thie seventli day according to the commandment." The Lord of Life lies dead ; High heaven is hung with gloom ; Yet to their simple, wifely task They turn them from His tomb. The spikenard and the myrrh Their tender hands prepare, — Tender with grief and deft with love — Then meekly close in prayer. Our dearest hope lies low ; From life fades out its best ; Love still may find sweet work to do, Faith still find Sabbath rest. LOVE S OPPORTUNITY. 1 9 LOVE'S OPPORTUNITY. Early they came, yet they were come too late. The tomb was empty ; in the misty dawn Angels sat watching, but the Lord was gone. Beyond earth's clouded daybreak far was He, Beyond the need of their sad ministry ; Regretful stood the three, with doubtful breast, Their gifts un needed and in vain their quest. The spices — were they wasted ? Legend saith That, flung abroad on April's gentle breath, 20 LOVES OPPORTUNITY. They course the earth, and evermore again In Spring's sweet odors they come back- to men. The tender thought ? Be sure He held it dear ; He came to them with words of highest cheer, And mighty joy expelled their hearts' brief fear. Yet happier that morning — happier yet — I count that other woman in her home Whose feet impatient all too soon had come. Who ventured chill disfavor at the feast, 'Mid critics' murmur sought that lowliest Guest, Broke her rare vase, its fragrant wealth outpoured. And gave her gift aforehand to her Lord. THE ANSWER AND THE CALL. 21 THE ANSWER AND THE CALL. " And it shall come to pass that before they call I will answer." Before love calls love answers. So Love says. For love divines. Have we not proved it so ? The hurt that these our neighbors cannot know Being indifferent, he our friend will guess, His glance made keen by Love's clear- sightedness. And all our wound he sees, and all our woe, Before we call and this our dolor show, And ask his tender touch to heal and bless. And more is true ; the hurt we proudly hide From careless gaze, to this beloved one— ^ 22 THE ANSWER AND THE CALL. The secret hurt already we confide In that we love. Love ever cries and calls ; Love supplicates. And clamorous love alone Can hear love's ceaseless answer as it falls. NO EVIL. 23 NO EVIL. " There shall no evil befall thee; neither shall any plague come near thy dwelling." No evil ? yet behold how tempest-tossed ! Storms beat unhindered on the good man's head, Heaven's lightnings shatter, or the early frost Falls on the flower he loved and leaves it dead. ^Q evil ? — in a world where sorrow sits Vigilant, jealous ; where a sorrow flits Darkling beside each shape of happiness ? Oh, truth most literal ! deep with tender- ness ! 24 NO EVIL. Oh, wondrous transmutation ! In His hand, His hand who gives, by His supreme com- mand, The clay is turned to gold, the il) to good. The lightning is His messenger ; His frost Chills not the root ; who knows God's fatherhood, Knows he rides safe, however tempest- tossed. NOT BY SIGHT. 2$ NOT BY SIGHT. Light of the darkness ! Love towards Whom we grope With ignorant steps, if haply we may find, — Through mists of doubt, miasmas of the mind, — Once found, a steadfast, sure, eternal hope ! No glory pierced my blindness, nay, nor grace, Charmed by no vision of Thy blessed face I came. Sight were but distant ken, but, lo, Thy touch hath reached me in the dark. I know. 26 NOT BY SIGHT. Thy hand hath drawn. 'Tis not that I did go, I stand, — upon the rock. Men call this faith ? 'Tis keener knowledge, verity that hath No blur of sense. It is the blind who know. " AND BEING BAPTIZED," ETC. 2/ "AND BEING BAPTIZED, AND PRAYING." Beneath the sky, upon the river's brim, The fitful multitudes awaiting Him, A world that questioned, and the full- charged air Vibrant with murmurings, Lo here ! — Lo there ! What recked it all ?— He looked, O God, to Thee. Still heaven is open ; to thine own to- day. Standing with Him, though all unworthily. The answer cometh swiftly when they pray ;— The dove of peace that lighteth gently down. The secret whisper. Thou, too, art my son. 28 THE STAR AT DAWN. THE STAR AT DAWN. A STEALING glory, still, intent and sure, And one fair star left on the flushing sky; (It is a time of birth, an opening door, A moment full of possibility ; None knows how great a thing this day may see.) 'Twas night that lit that fair star, dark- browed night, And still it burns, paled but before the sun. Pure through the darkness beamed its steadfast light. When sunshine conquers shade, when night is gone, Its tender radiance to the day is won. THE STAR AT DAWN. 29 So thou, dear grace of patience, in the soul Dost keep brave vigil through the shad- owed hour ; Joy comes, — the morning! swift the mists unroll ; The full day dawns, thy faithful watch is o'er ; Not that thy light is less, but heaven's is more. 30 " ENTERED INTO LIFE, E TC. " ENTERED INTO LIFE— AT DAYBREAK." The pale moon hangs upon the sky, A useless lamp, for day is nigh ; The stars go out with fitful flare, The morn's bold wing is on the air. Ah ! welcomer than softest rest Deep folded to the night's cool breast The stir of life, the laden hour, The waiting task, the bounding power. The dawn's gray quivers with the light. Farewell to thee, farewell, sweet night ! I loved thee well, thy dreams were fair,- Farewell to thee, — the Day is here ! JOY IN HEAVEN. 3^ JOY IN HEAVEN. The silly lamb deceived by foe's decoy Abroad to roam, With thankful bleat returns its rescuer's cry When night is come ; But greater is the tender shepherd's joy Who bears it home. The child who wanders from its father's side, And strays away, In helpless freedom o'er the meadows wide Alone to play Comes joyful back, that father for his guide, At fall of day. 32 JOY IN HEAVEN. Freed now the little feet from weary smart, From danger's net, Content, and fain with childhood's happy art, Grief to forget ; Yet think you not the seeking father's heart Is happier yet ? Ah, joy ! — such joy as our dull childish sense Is slow to guess ; And think thee, Soul, thou dost that joy dispense. Or make it less. Thy little deed may swell that sea immense, Heaven's happiness ! nature's secret. 33 NATURE'S SECRET. Brave deeds and noble man had done, Fair fame and high achievement won And earned a just renown ; " I'll build me monuments," he said, " Temples and tombs shall raise their head When I to dust am gone. Chance, change and death I here defy ; Though low this scheming head must lie, Art liveth long and sure. Time shall not quite my name efface. And wondering age to wondering age Shall see my work endure." Then Nature smiled a royal smile ; She saw his columns rise the while. She knew her secret well. 34 NATURE S SECRET. And, " Know, O man," she said, "the day That finds your trophies old and gray Shall see me blooming still." The eternal hills are ever young, The arched halls where stars are hung — The ancient heavens — are new. Fresh laughs the sea, fresh gleams the sky, The trooping flowers come smiling by ; (Canst guess my secret's clue ?) I yield to chance, to change, to death ; Time touches me with fatal breath, I shrink not, nor def}''. The years write wrinkles on my face. New every morning wakes my grace. Fresh flows the stream's supply. The oak tree falls, the acorn springs. The fair flower dies, its seed hath wings And groweth up anon. nature's secret. 35 Mountains may rend ; in hidden caves The patient drop the gravel laves And forms another stone. Who bows to chance new chance shall find ; Resist not death, for Life's behind And richer treasure bears. Life ever lives ; let night creep on, So swifter circles round the sun, And brincfs sweet mornine's airs. 36 LOST. — A SORROW. LOST.— A SORROW. I HAD a grief — ah, me ! a tender thing, Quivering and helpless, pierced with smart and sting. Apart and sacred, safe from Joy's alarm, I held it in my bosom close and warm. Suns rose and stars ; above my drooping head Life's wide benignant courses kept their tread. My grief rose softly — 'twas a day of Spring,— And flew away all on a silver wing. ABOVE THE STORM. 3/ ABOVE THE STORM.* I SAW black sorrow coming, — from the sky, Upon the smiling land, the summer sea. Its shadow sweeping, as some bird sweeps by, Of huge, dun wing, of fearful augury, Of leaden flight above the homes of men, — Where will it stay its pinion dark, and when ? — So came that shadow from the summer sky. Soul, we will meet it bravely, then I said. This blackness moving swifter now along, Gathering with thunder's mutter overhead, Shall find us unsurprised, shall find us strong. * Suggested by the incident in Agassiz's youth, which so deeply impressed his mind. 38 ABOVE THE STORM, Forward we'll journey up the mountain side, Breast its full fury, all its wrath outbide. Then on, and freelier breathe when it is sped. Up to the mountain gat my soul and I, — Mountain of God. And upward as we went. Bowed for the storm, with laggard-lifted eye, Sudden, behold, a fleckless firmament ! Here sit we on the hight 'neath sapphire clear. The fair sun sinks, the early stars appear. And loud beneath our feet the storm sweeps by. "WHO HATH EARS TO HEAR." 39 "WHO HATH EARS TO HEAR." Silence. — I pierce the heavens with my cry, I wait, I Hsten. Who will make reply ? I call, I question. Comes nor voice nor sound. The mountains rise in silence calm, pro- found, The heaving sea uplifts its troubled breast And tells no tale, but moans a deep unrest ; The stars shine still and cold, unmoved, remote, Silent they thread their maze, and answer not. Is earth's ear heavy ? — or is heaven's un- bent ? Father ! Life-giver ! What is Thy intent 40 " WHO HATH EARS TO HEAR." In this Thy gift ? What fruit so rich, so sweet, Lies hidden here, or what allotment meet For such a thing as I that Thou hast made ? — A soul, — all hope and possibility ? Breathless I listen. Still are earth and sea. And the far sky smiles silent overhead. Upon a day I saw one sit and sigh, I saw one sit amid divinest sound ; Fine harmonies and subtle wrapped him round Yet trembled not his lip, nor flashed his eye. Only his hungry gaze looked ever forth, His painful brow bent ever emptily ; He sat unmoved, nor faintest breath caught he. Nor thunder's roll, nor twittering linnet's mirth, "WHO HATH EARS TO HEAR." 4I For he was deaf. The noise of battle near, The roar of mortal war had filled his ear, And nevermore he heard. Ah, thought I then, Is it perhaps that thus it is with men ? Is it perhaps that thus it is with me? Not heaven is silent, but my ear is dull. Not heaven is silent ; rich perhaps and full The music swells ; it is as naught to me. Not false nor faint upon the quickened ear The voices fall of earth and sea and sky. But, ah ! the world's wild voices ever nigh Have dulled the heavenward sense. I do not hear. 42 JUDICA ME, DOMINE. J U Die A ME, DOMINE. Be Thou my Judge, O God ! Thy justice, sweeter than man's tenderness. And keener sighted, counts the sin no less. Yet bears a healing none would dare to guess. Thou knowest altogether : deep within Thou seest the sorrow latent in the sin, The foul black spot I weakly wish were clean, O Thou, my Judge, my God ! Black is its blackness ; better far than I Thou knowest that foulness ; and in Thy pure eye No guilty thing may live. Still, still I cry. Be Thou my Judge, O God ! JUDICA ME, DOiMINE. 43 Sin cannot live, but Thou, my Judge, my God, Alone among the judges, by Thy word. Canst slay the shi, and bring to true accord. My soul and Thine, great God ! My weak will and Thy strong; — O only Just ! Eternal Truth must stamp e'en worthless dust, Right must needs help make right ! Be Thou my trust, Be Thou my Judge, O God ! 44 LAWS AND LAW. LAWS AND LAW. Mighty man's will, and sweeps a world- wide arc ; Great Nature's arm swings free in Titan curve ; Holding them both, with tense and tire- less nerve, Eternal Love moves onward to its mark. "WORK TO-DAY IN MY VINEYARD." 45 ''WORK TO-DAY IN MY VINEYARD." Where is Thy vineyard, Lord of love ? Thy fields stretch far beneath the sky, — Swept by all heavenly winds they lie. And heaven's light floods them from above. Where is Thy vineyard ? Here am I, Hither Thy grace hath led my way ; Lord, I will go, nor ask to stay ; I wait to hear Thy mandate high. I wait to hear the trumpet-blast ; Forth to some deed of noble name ! With nerve of steel, with heart of flame, I'll join the struggle's glorious haste. 46 " WORK TO-DAY IN MY VINEYARD." Is this the trumpet ? — this sweet voice — Low, sweet, and still within my heart ? This love, of life itself a part ? This symphony of earth's best joys ? Is this Thy vineyard ? — this dear home Where day by day the old sun shines Upon the old hill's rounded lines. And stars I know gild night's blue dome ? Is Thy vineyard ? Is it mine To cull the fruit for those I love ? Among my chosen ones to move, And fill their cup with life's rich wine ? Is this Thy mandate ? Happy I ! To serve the dearest Thou hast given ! Oh, tender plan conceived in heaven ! How should my soul with joy comply ! Lord of the vineyard, this I ask — Nearest of all that Thou wilt stand, Dearest of tones be Thy command, And best reward the lowliest task. FRITZ VON UHDE S PAINTING. 47 FRITZ VON UHDE'S PAINTING IN THE NATIONAL GALLERY AT BERLIN. " Komm, Herr Jesu, sei unser Gast." BriGiTT noonday sunshine floods the floor, Wide open stands the humble door, The simple meal is neatly spread, The child has bowed her golden head, And reverent grace has gravely said. And he is come ! the guest she asked : A traveler, weary, overtasked, A toiler, from noon's dust and glare, A king, of features strangely fair, A willing friend their feast to share. Ah, much is writ upon that face ! " I come because you give me place. 48 FRITZ VON UHDE'S PAINTING. Gladly I take the waiting seat, Grateful the poor man's bread I eat. And what I bring you — who can mete ? ' And on the faces gathered round Sit love untold and joy profound. " O, friend divine," the elders say, " Afar we've seen thee on our way, Stay with us now, — forever stay ! " They worship, yet are not afraid, Father and mother — little maid — No terror in the childish eyes, No hint of awe or mysteries. But trusting love and sweet surprise. And as the homely feast goes on, By that blest presence shone upon. No pleasant jesting feels restraint, No blame finds word, no scandal's taint. No selfish gladness, weak complaint. FRITZ VON UHDE'S PAINTING. 49 " Oh, come, Lord Jesus, be our guest." Such is the child-like heart's request, And, see, He lends a willing ear. How sweet the talk, how rich the cheer, Were this dear guest forever here ! 50 BLIND GENTIAN. BLIND GENTIAN ANSWERS QUESTIONS. Not for my sins, dear poet, am I blind, But long ago — have you not heard the story ? — My grandsire trespassed, (here the record find) And robbed his offspring of our race's glory. They dwelt — my fathers — on this breezy hill. All in the brilliant late October weather; Fair stood their ranks, as you may see them still, Beneath jieaven's sapphire clustered close together. BLIND GENTIAN. 5 I And round the happy spot the fairies played, Coining in secret under nightfall's cover, Or hurrying home, by kindly act delayed. As morning softly crept the hillside over. Late, late one night — the east was grow- ing red — A tardy fay the last of all was numbered ; (All night he'd watched beside a baby's bed. And kept it happy while the mother slumbered.) Thirsty and tired the fairy hither flew. "Dear flower," he said, "I'll stop with you a minute, Give me, I pray, a sip of fresh-fall'n dew — How bright it looks with day's first sun- beam in it ! " 52 BLIND GENTIAN. Here sinned my grandsire. Heaven's hap- piest law He quite forgot, and charity's pure pleas- ure. With careless heart another's need he saw, Nor oped his cup to share its crystal treasure. And since that day, the country people tell. One half the gentians grow with fast- closed chalice ; Not theirs to drink the dew they love so well, Not theirs to see the sun-god in his palace. Shadow of sin ! Yet sunshine filters through, And fills my cup, and lends an inner glory. And poets guess my secret heart is true ; — Some brighter morning may reverse the story ! IN A FEBRUARY GARDEN. 53 IN A FEBRUARY GARDEN. CALIFORNIA. A BREEZE, a brightness, branches over- head. One near, (else, Sweet, what would the garden be ?) A troop of poppies, sunflower, peony. And motley phloxes to the sunshine spread ; Beneath her window wall-flower lifts its head, — The goodly wall-flower Bacon liked to see — Its bright fires burning soft and smokily. Its breath condensed richness, richly fed By earth, by sunshine, and the plen- teous showers. 54 IN A FEBRUARY GARDEN. Here lilies fail not, nor the affluent rose, Here evening primrose counts the golden hours. Here sweetly, like the thought of one most dear, The breath of violets comes and gently goes And comes again, and savors all the air. THE CLOCK SAYS IT. 55 THE CLOCK SAYS IT. Night ; and the clock ticks on, The world is still, and the stars look down. The clock ticks light, the heart beats low, Nor stir nor sound ; the wind's asleep ; The stars o'er the black sky silent creep And silent drop 'neath the black hill's brow. The clock and the heart beat on, beat on. There'll come a night when the stars look down, When the world's asleep, and the stars ' creep on, Creep silent past, and drop 'neath the hill, And the clock will stop, and the heart be still. ' 56 LOOKING BACK. LOOKING BACK. Hills of the past, lying in tender light, How shall I speak the thoughts that rise in me As backward turning nf)w your slopes I sec ? Soft lie your shadows, and the rugged hight That tore my feet is bathed in sunny rest. Your paths were rough as on I panting pressed, Oft, oft I stumbled, oft I lost the way ; Peaceful lies all in mcmor)''s chastened ray. Fair rise your peaks, fair stretch the upland meads, Silence and sacred calm upon your heads. GIVEN IN SLEEP. 57 GIVEN IN SLEEP. They whispered low about the shadowed bed, " She soon must cross the fearful stream," they said. And I ? Swift ran my thoughts to that dread verge, My troubled thoughts — such thoughts as quickly merge In dreamful sleep. — I hear the river's surge, I stand upon its bank, and stand alone. Chill creeps the white mist, and a far wind's moan Sweeps through the cypress trees. Rut what to me The creeping mist, the wind, or that dull sea That sobs and surges? For insistently 58 GIVEN IN SLEEP. A deathlier chill, a deadlier fear oppress, — A palsying weight of sin, of faithlessness. " How can I come," I said, " before His face Whose love I slighted, half forgot His grace, Doubted and feared, nor fitly cared to praise ? Horror of darkness? Terror deeper far The shuddering soul beyond the glance of star Or sun, or lamp of heaven-lit faith can know. Sad unfamiliar stream? Chill winds that blow ? It is my sins that freeze my soul with woe. It is my doubts tumultuous rage and swell, — Ungenerous fears. How can I cross and dwell — GIVEN IN SLEEP. 59 Cross that wild torrent of mistake and wrong — It deepens, widens, grows more fierce, more strong, — And dwell the happy, pardoned souls among ? " Then still uprose upon the further brim. Yet near, a form. Who shall those features limn, Or mar with word or breath that gracious sight ? What tongue can speak that sweet, com- pelling might ? What speech but silence pure be worship right ? He stood, — the Christ ! God's love made manifest ! And I had doubted Him! within my breast 6o GIVEN IN SLEEP. Let creep unfaith and fears. Swift rose my prayer, My worldless prayer, (He read the soul laid bare And caught the thought or ere it cleft the air,)— " But, Lord, I cannot come. My sins di- vide. How can I forth upon this rushing tide Of my own terrors, doubts and sinful fear ? " He spake no word. But in the dimness drear He opened forth His arms. — Lo, heaven was here ! Upon the sea of terror, doubt and sin Instant I flung myself, and plunged within. GIVEN IN SLEEP. 6l The waves forgotten. " Lord," my spirit cried, " No power can keep me from Thee, naught divide. Through floods of doubt and sin I'll reach Thy side." The vision passed. Was it not gracious sent ? And when once more my slow steps earth- ward bent Its sweetness lingered. Can I know doubt more. Distrust or fear? Upon the dark stream's shore He stands, He waits, He blesses evermore. 62 FROM ONE WHO WENT AWAY. FROM ONE WHO WENT AWAY IN HASTE. Sweet friends, I could not speak before 1 went, We could not wait— the messenger and I, Will you guess all ? — with love's clear vis- ion bent On that poor past, with eyes that search the sky ? Some things I would have done, some words have said ; Swift had my feet on those last errands run. Once more I would have said, " I love you,"— plead Once more forgiveness for the good un- done. FROM ONE WHO WENT AWAY. 63 And do I hear a whisper, " Ah, forgive, Forgive us any tenderness forgot"? Hush, dearest pleader, where to-day 1 hve Love's depth drowns all ; the things that were are not. Of all the wondrous tale anon we'll talk, And on some sunny hight together walk. 64 FOREVER. FOREVER. Like the lark through deeps of sky, Will the soul bound on, and fly Earth-lost, toward God forever? In fullness which thirsts for more. Research which is richest lore, In rest which is still endeavor? Oh, love, more wide, more deep, As ages their watches keep ! Oh, power that lures us ever ! Faith growing strong through sight, Hope shining still more bright ! Is this Thy heaven, great Giver ? \:0«OT* » ^^^ ^::» y^ .^?^^#^>^^ :>^^^di^Cr> 3' _> JS>^73^ :j^_>^^.:> J.J> \Ji>'-^& >- ■ r^si - ■■:^ ^ ■ ^^ > > -> . > t^ V'4 > ^"^i^ :>5 -. .i3^;-^.o 1 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS llillllllllllllllllillllllllll,,^ 018 603 025 4 9