Part i
._
The solitary monk who shook the world From pagan slumber, when the gospel trump Thunder'd its challenge from his dauntless lips In peals of truth.
_Luther. Man's Need and God's Supply._
And not from Nature up to Nature's God,[610-5] But down from Nature's God look Nature through.
_Luther. A Landscape of Domestic Life._
FOOTNOTES:
[610-3] See Byron, page 547.
[610-4] We take this to be, on the whole, the worst similitude in the world. In the first place, no stream meanders or can possibly meander level with the fount. In the next place, if streams did meander level with their founts, no two motions can be less like each other than that of meandering level and that of mounting upwards.--MACAULAY: _Review of Montgomery's Poems_ (_Eleventh Edition_). _Edinburgh Review, April, 1830._
These lines were omitted in the subsequent edition of the poem.
[610-5] See Bolingbroke, page 304.
CHARLES JEFFERYS. 1807-1865.
Come o'er the moonlit sea, The waves are brightly glowing.
_The Moonlit Sea._
The morn was fair, the skies were clear, No breath came o'er the sea.
_The Rose of Allandale._
Meek and lowly, pure and holy, Chief among the "blessed three."
_Charity._
Come, wander with me, for the moonbeams are bright On river and forest, o'er mountain and lea.
_Come, wander with me._
A word in season spoken May calm the troubled breast.
_A Word in Season._
The bud is on the bough again, The leaf is on the tree.
_The Meeting of Spring and Summer._
I have heard the mavis singing Its love-song to the morn; I 've seen the dew-drop clinging To the rose just newly born.
_Mary of Argyle._
We have lived and loved together Through many changing years; We have shared each other's gladness, And wept each other's tears.
_We have lived and loved together._
LADY DUFFERIN. 1807-1867.
I 'm sitting on the stile, Mary, Where we sat side by side.
_Lament of the Irish Emigrant._
I 'm very lonely now, Mary, For the poor make no new friends; But oh they love the better still The few our Father sends!
_Lament of the Irish Emigrant._
HENRY W. LONGFELLOW. 1807-1882.
(_From the edition of 1886._)
Look, then, into thine heart, and write![612-1]
_Voices of the Night. Prelude._
Tell me not, in mournful numbers, "Life is but an empty dream!" For the soul is dead that slumbers, And things are not what they seem.[612-2]
_A Psalm of Life._
Life is real! life is earnest! And the grave is not its goal; Dust thou art, to dust returnest, Was not spoken of the soul.
_A Psalm of Life._
Art is long, and time is fleeting,[612-3] And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still like muffled drums are beating Funeral marches to the grave.[612-4]
_A Psalm of Life._
Trust no future, howe'er pleasant! Let the dead Past bury its dead! Act, act in the living present! Heart within, and God o'erhead!
_A Psalm of Life._
Lives of great men all remind us We can make our lives sublime, And departing, leave behind us Footprints on the sands of time.
_A Psalm of Life._
Let us, then, be up and doing, With a heart for any fate;[612-5] Still achieving, still pursuing, Learn to labour and to wait.
_A Psalm of Life._
There is a reaper whose name is Death,[613-1] And with his sickle keen He reaps the bearded grain at a breath, And the flowers that grow between.
_The Reaper and the Flowers._
The star of the unconquered will.
_The Light of Stars._
Oh, fear not in a world like this, And thou shalt know erelong,-- Know how sublime a thing it is To suffer and be strong.
_The Light of Stars._
Spake full well, in language quaint and olden, One who dwelleth by the castled Rhine, When he called the flowers, so blue and golden, Stars, that in earth's firmament do shine.
_Flowers._
The hooded clouds, like friars, Tell their beads in drops of rain.
_Midnight Mass._
No tears Dim the sweet look that Nature wears.
_Sunrise on the Hills._
No one is so accursed by fate, No one so utterly desolate, But some heart, though unknown, Responds unto his own.
_Endymion._
For Time will teach thee soon the truth, There are no birds in last year's nest![613-2]
_It is not always May._
Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary.
_The Rainy Day._
The prayer of Ajax was for light.[614-1]
_The Goblet of Life._
O suffering, sad humanity! O ye afflicted ones, who lie Steeped to the lips in misery, Longing, yet afraid to die, Patient, though sorely tried!
_The Goblet of Life._
Standing with reluctant feet Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet!
_Maidenhood._
O thou child of many prayers! Life hath quicksands; life hath snares!
_Maidenhood._
She floats upon the river of his thoughts.[614-2]
_The Spanish Student. Act ii. Sc. 3._
A banner with the strange device.
_Excelsior._
This is the place. Stand still, my steed,-- Let me review the scene, And summon from the shadowy past The forms that once have been.
_A Gleam of Sunshine._
The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight.
_The Day is done._
A feeling of sadness and longing That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain.
_The Day is done._
And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day Shall fold their tents like the Arabs, And as silently steal away.
_The Day is done._
Sail on, O Ship of State! Sail on, O Union, strong and great! Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate!
_The Building of the Ship._
Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee,-- Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, Are all with thee,--are all with thee!
_The Building of the Ship._
The leaves of memory seemed to make A mournful rustling in the dark.
_The Fire of Drift-wood._
There is no flock, however watched and tended, But one dead lamb is there; There is no fireside, howsoe'er defended, But has one vacant chair.
_Resignation._
The air is full of farewells to the dying, And mournings for the dead.
_Resignation._
But oftentimes celestial benedictions Assume this dark disguise.
_Resignation._
What seem to us but sad, funereal tapers May be heaven's distant lamps.
_Resignation._
There is no death! What seems so is transition; This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call Death.
_Resignation._
Safe from temptation, safe from sin's pollution, She lives whom we call dead.
_Resignation._
In the elder days of Art, Builders wrought with greatest care Each minute and unseen part; For the gods see everywhere.
_The Builders._
This is the forest primeval.
_Evangeline. Part i ._
When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music.
_Evangeline. Part i . 1._
Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.
_Evangeline. Part i . 3._
And as she looked around, she saw how Death the consoler, Laying his hand upon many a heart, had healed it forever.
_Evangeline.