Poems of the Heart and Home Part 6

BROTHER, REST.

IN MEMORY OF THE REV. J. E. V.

Rest, brother, rest! Thy eyes no more shall weep O'er unhealed anguish and unconquered sin; Thy peaceful slumber, tranquilized and deep, Is marred no more by Earth's discordant din.

Calm are the skies above thy quiet bed, And calm is Earth in Summer-glories dressed, And cool and sweet the fresh mould richly spread Above thy folded hands and peaceful breast.

Oh, could my voice thy placid slumber break, And win thee back to mortal scenes again,-- Bid thee, unblamed, thy heavenly paths forsake, Once more to walk with me 'mid care and pain, I could not, dare not breathe the word, for thou Hast long enough toiled where the dark curse lies On all Earth's fairest fruitage;--brother, now Thou seest the "goodly land" with unveiled eyes!

Oh no! I would not breathe that word, though life For me be sadder for the smile I miss; For thou hast gained a home unreached by strife, Undimmed by tears--a home of changeless bliss!

There, in sweet fellows.h.i.+p with angels blessed, And all the crowned and glorified above, In thy loved Saviour's longed-for presence rest, And bask forever in the light of LOVE!

LOVED AND LOST, --OR-- THE SKY-LARK AND THE VIOLET.

VIOLET'S SONG

I.

Come down from thy dazzling sphere, Bird of the gus.h.i.+ng song!

Come down where the young leaves whisper low, While the breeze steals in with a murmurous flow, And the tender branches wave to and fro In the soft air all day long!

I have watched thy daring wing Cleaving the sun-bright air, Where the snowy cloud is asleep in light, Or dreamily floating in robes of white, While thy soul gushed forth in its song's free might, Till my spirit is dim with care.

For oh, I have loved thee well, Thou of the soaring wing!-- And I fear lest the angels that sit on high, In the calm, still depths of the upper sky, Will love with a tenderer love than I, As they stoop to hear thee sing

Come down from the heights, my bird, And warble thy lays to me!

I shall pine and droop in my gra.s.sy nook For the pa.s.sionate song that my spirit shook, And the low, sad voice of the grieving brook Will murmur all night of thee!

I shall sit alone--_alone_, While the noontide hour steals by; And mournful the woodland's music will be,-- Mournful the blue, calm heavens to me,-- Mournful the glory on earth and sea,-- And mournful the sunset sky!

O voice of exulting song!-- O bright, unwavering eye!-- O free wing soaring in fetterless flight Up to the Fountain of quenchless Light!-- O, Earth that darken'st in sudden night, I shudder, and faint, and die!

SKY-LARK'S SONG

II.

From the dewy gra.s.s upspringing-- From my wing the pearl-drops flinging-- Upward, with exultant singing, Let me--let me fly!

Sun, with gemmed and flas.h.i.+ng banners, List my rapturous hosannas-- As I mount, on circling wing, Higher, o'er the fragrant meadow,-- O'er the forest's broken shadow,-- O'er the hill-tops green and golden,-- Where the ivied ruins olden Echo out with sudden gladness As I break their brooding sadness With the lays I sing!

Joy, joy!--I have caught the song Of the angels that sit above!-- And warble in musical chorus alway Those notes that oftentimes earthward stray So tenderly sweet at the fall of day, What time the rose-bud's trembling spray Thrills with their lays of love!-- Joy, joy!--I have caught the song Of bright ones that sit above!-- And the far-off Earth's a forgotten thing, As I mount on free and fetterless wing, Up to the sun-fields where they sing, Drawn on by their soul of love!

Hus.h.!.+ is it a voice of Earth-- Of the far-away Earth, I hear?

Breathing of the fragrant meadow,-- Of the drooping willow's shadow,-- Of the breezes' gentle sighing,-- Of the brooklet's low replying,-- Of the blue, o'er-arching heaven,-- Of the violet-curtained even,-- Of the tender, dreamy starlight,-- Of the hushed, majestic midnight?-- And through all that murmur so sad and low, Meanings of pa.s.sionate anguish flow, Till I feel a weight on my glancing wing Bearing me earthward while yet I sing, With its burden of heavy woe.

VIOLET'S SONG

III.

Bird, I am drooping in tears alone, Pressing my cheek 'gainst the cold, grey stone, And looking upward with aching eye, Through the tender depths of the morning sky;-- But thy form fades out in that glorious sea That lieth so calmly 'twixt thee and me; A speck--it is lost in the azure deep!

And I droop in the deepening gloom, and weep My sorrowful life away!

O voice of pa.s.sionate song!-- O bright, unwavering eye!-- O free wing soaring in limitless flight Beyond the stretch of my aching sight!

How the cold earth darkens in sudden night!

How I shudder, and faint, and die!

SKY-LARK'S SONG

IV.

Fainter and fainter--'tis heard no more-- That plaintive strain from Earth's lessening sh.o.r.e-- And I fling its weight from my fetterless wing, Higher and higher in heaven to sing, Afar from Earth's faded sh.o.r.e!

I shall take my seat in the clouds, I shall sit beside the Sun,-- I shall gaze with calm, unfaltering eye On the face of the radiant one!

O glorious, kingly Sun!-- O brightly beautiful one!-- O Monarch, sitting serenely bright, In thy quenchless glory on heaven's height, I am upward drawn to thee!-- And thy fiery spirit's ardent flame Is downward-drawn to me!

Sun, with gemmed and flas.h.i.+ng banners, List my rapturous hosannas, As I circle nearer,--nearer,-- Where your rays burn brighter, clearer,-- Up, on wings of strong desire, Higher still, and ever higher!

VIOLET'S SONG

V.

I droop by the cold, grey stone!-- I faint in the smitten day!-- I hear not the song of my own free bird Whose joyous music my glad heart stirred But yester-morn! I can see no more The humming-bird's wing as it flutters o'er The fragrant clover-bloom!

The brook, with a far-off, sorrowful tone, Seemeth in measureless grief to moan As it hurrieth on its way-- The breath of my lost perfume Floats on the wandering breeze, Over the meadow's peris.h.i.+ng bloom, Over the cold, blue seas!

I would not gather it back, I would not fill anew With love's pure incense my broken urn, For the lost can never more return From the sky's encompa.s.sing blue!

It is well!--I would not hang A weight on his fetterless wing; For was he not make for the sun-bright sky?-- To face the glories that burn on high?-- And I, to sit 'mid Earth's fading bloom, And waste my life in the faint perfume I fling to the thankless breeze?-- Let him cleave the azure infinite!-- Let him pour his soul out in song's free might!-- Till the white-robed seraphs that dwell in light Shall stoop to hear him sing!-- Be it mine to fade ere the day-beams die, And alone in the sighing gra.s.s to lie, With my dull face turned to the tearless sky, A faded, forgotten thing!

THE GRACIOUS PROVIDER.

_"They need not go away!"_ the Master said, _"Give ye to them."_ Ah, Lord, behold our store-- These loaves, these fishes,--see, we have no more!

How shall this fainting throng with these be fed?

_"Make them sit down!"_--and the disciples sped To do His will. He blessed, and brake, and gave And as they ate, each heart grew strong and brave, Filled, till they craved no more, with hallowed bread.

Thus, when our hearts grow faint, and stores are small, And thou demandest all that we possess, O, help us, Lord, to bring that little all, Knowing shouldst thou the gift accept and bless, Our worthless store, so changed and glorified, Ourselves shall feed, and fainting throngs beside.

REST IN HEAVEN