Poems of the Heart and Home Part 16

Nature's open volume lies, Richly tinted, brightly beaming, With its varied lessons teeming, All outspread before his eyes.

Dewy glades and opening flowers, Emerald meadows, vernal bowers, Sun and shade, and bird and bee, Fount and forest, hill and lea,-- All things beautiful and fair, His benignant teachers are

Tearing up the stubborn soil, Trudging, drudging, toiling, moiling, Hands, and feet, and garments soiling-- Who would grudge the ploughman's toil?

Yet 'tis health and wealth to him, Strength of nerve, and strength of limb, Light and fervor in his glances, Life and beauty in his fancies, Learned and happy, brave and free, Who so proud and blest as he?

"HE HATH DONE ALL THINGS WELL."

AFFECTIONATELY INSCRIBED TO A DEAR FRIEND ON THE DEATH OF A BELOVED FATHER.

The dawn-light wakes, and brightens to the day, And the slow sun climbs the far eastern skies, Then, down the western slopes pursues his way, Till shadows deepen and the twilight dies;-- And still I muse, and wait, and list in vain For feet that never, never will return,-- For loving words I may not hear again, Howe'er with ear attent I wait and yearn.

O love that never wavered, never changed!

How shall I miss thee as the years go by?

O tenderest heart that could be estranged!-- O fount that age and suffring could not dry!-- O guiding hand to earliest thought endeared-- O hand that after clung so long to me!-- O patient Father, honored, loved, revered!

How shall I hear life's burden wanting thee?

Be still, fond heart!--another Father, thine-- Both _his_ and thine--still on thee bends His eye; Thou canst not walk alone, for Love Divine, Unseen, yet near, each starting tear will dry.

Lean on the strong, true breast, of Love more deep, More constant far than earthly love may be, Who gently soothed his pain, and gave him sleep, And shall enfold, uplift, and comfort thee!

So lay thy burden in His hands, and rest!

Thy Lord hath fathomed every earthly woe; With patient feet Earth's th.o.r.n.i.e.s.t pathway pressed, And left the tomb with Heaven's light aglow;-- For, what them seest not now, some other day, In lands unreached by sorrow's dreary knell, Thou in His light shalt read, and meekly say, "E'en so, dear Lord, Thou hast done all things well."

SOMEWHERE

"For he looked for a city that hath foundations, whose Maker and Builder is G.o.d."

I.

Somewhere, I know, there waits for me A home that mocks the pomp of Earth, Eye hath not seen its majesty, Nor heart conceived its priceless worth,-- Talk not of crystal, gems, or gold, Or towers that flame in changeless light, Imagination, weak and cold, Faints far below the unmeasured height!

And through its open doors for aye, As ages after ages glide, Without a moment's pause or stay, Flows grandly in the living tide-- Brothers, redeemed ones, pressing home From every clime, from every sh.o.r.e, Beneath that fair celestial dome Meet to be parted nevermore!

II.

Somewhere, I know, there waits for me A holy, tranquillized repose, Calmer than summer noontides be, Softer than twilight's tenderest close-- Peace, deeper than the peace that stole O'er the vexed Galilean flood, When One, Almighty to control, Breathed o'er it the still "peace" of G.o.d.

To break that calm, no throbbing pain May ever come, no chilling fears, No hopes unreached, no yearnings vain, No love-light quenched in sorrow's tears; But, while eternal ages glide, That hallowed peace without alloy Shall still increase, and still abide, A deepening fount of holiest joy.

III.

Somewhere, I know, there wait for me Sweet tones that wander back betimes Through the charmed gates of Memory, Like far-off swell of Sabbath chimes; And fair, sweet faces, dimly seen In the uncertain light of dreams, And glances, tender and serene As star-beams mirrored soft in streams;-- They wait for me who long have missed, From the lone paths I since have pressed, The hands I clasped, the lips I kissed, The loves that life's young morning blessed,-- Wait long, while still, through mist and tears I darkly wend my pilgrim way, Until for me the dawn appears And night gives place to perfect day

IV.

Somewhere, I know, in brighter lands, ONE waits--"the Fairest of the Fair"-- With loving words and gentle hands, To welcome all who gather there.

"Father, I will," we heard Him say, "That those whom thou hast given me Be with me where I am, that they My glory evermore may see!"

And there, without a veil between, The sweetness of His face to hide, Him whom I've loved yet never seen, I shall behold well satisfied-- And, viewing Him, shall sweetly be Transformed into His image bright, And through a glad Eternity Walk in His love's unclouded light!

THE TIDE.

Landward the tide setteth buoyantly breezily,-- Landward the waves ripple sparkling and free,-- Ho, the proud s.h.i.+p, like a thing of life, easily, Gracefully sweeps o'er the white-crested sea!

In from the far-away lands she is steering now, Straight for her anchorage, fearless and free,-- Lo, as I gaze, how she seems to be nearing now, Sun-lighted sh.o.r.es, a still haven, _and me_!

Landward the tide setteth!--mark my proud argosy As the breeze flutters her pennons of snow, Wafting from far the glad mariner's melody O'er the blue waters in rhythmical flow!

Tell me, oh, soul of mine, what is the freightage fair 'Neath her white wings that she beareth to thee?

Treasures of golden ore, gems from Golconda's sh.o.r.e, Lo, she is bringing me over, the sea!

Seaward the tide setteth hoa.r.s.ely and heavily,-- Seaward the tide setteth steady and stern;-- Oh, my proud s.h.i.+p!--she has missed the still haven! see, Baffled and drifting, far out she is borne!-- Far from the sh.o.r.e, and the weak arms that helplessly, Wildly, are stretched toward the lessening sail!-- Far, far from sh.o.r.e, and the white hands that hopelessly Flutter in vain in the loud shrieking gale!

Seaward the tide setteth--oh my rich argosy, Freighted with treasures ungrasped and unwon!-- Oh, the dark rocks!--the dread cras.h.!.+--the fierce agony!-- And seaward more madly the tide rushes on!

Gems and red gold won from Earth's richest treasury Straw the dark floor of the pitiless sea, Buried for aye--and my wealth-freighted argosy Fades like the mist from the ocean _and me_!

ELOISE.

Eloise! Eloise!

It is morn on the seas, And the waters are curling and flas.h.i.+ng; And our rock-sheltered seat, Where the waves ever beat With a cadenced and rhythmical das.h.i.+ng, Is here--just here, But I miss thee, dear!

And the sun-beams around me are flas.h.i.+ng O seat, by the lonely sea, O seat, that she shared with me, Thou art all unfilled to day!

And the plaintive, grieving main Hath a moan of hopeless pain That it had not yesterday.

Eloise! Eloise!

It is noon; and the breeze Through the shadowy woodland is straying; And our green, mossy seat, Where the flowers kissed thy feet While the zephyrs around thee were playing, Is here--just here; But I miss thee, dear!

And the breezes around me are straying.

O seat, by the greenwood tree, O seat, that she shared with me, Thou art all unfilled to-day!

And the sighing, s.h.i.+vering leaves Have a voice like one that grieves That they had not yesterday.

Eloise! Eloise!

It is eve; and the trees With the gold of the sunset are glowing; And our low, gra.s.sy seat, With the brook at its feet Ever singing, and rippling, and flowing, Is here--just here; But I miss thee, dear!

And the sunset is over me glowing.

O seat, by the brooklet free, O seat, that she shared with me, Thou art all unfilled to-day!