Poems by Frances Ellen Watkins Harper Part 5

I dreamed I joined with a restless throng, Eager for pleasure and gain; But ever and anon a stumbler fell, And uttered a cry of pain.

But the eager crowd still hurried on, Too busy to pause or heed, When a voice rang sadly through my soul, You must staunch these wounds that bleed.

My hands were weak, but I reached them out To feebler ones than mine,

RENEWAL OF STRENGTH. 33

And over the shadows of my life Stole the light of a peace divine.

Oh! then my task was a sacred thing, How precious it grew in my eyes!

'Twas mine to gather the bruised grain For the "Lord of Paradise."

And when the reapers shall lay their grain On the floors of golden light, I feel that mine with its broken sheaves Shall be precious in His sight.

Though thorns may often pierce my feet, And the shadows still abide, The mists will vanish before His smile, There will be light at eventide.

RENEWAL OF STRENGTH.

The prison-house in which I live Is falling to decay, But G.o.d renews my spirit's strength, Within these walls of clay.

34 JAMIE'S PUZZLE.

For me a dimness slowly creeps Around earth's fairest light, But heaven grows clearer to my view, And fairer to my sight.

It may be earth's sweet harmonies Are duller to my ear, But music from my Father's house Begins to float more near.

Then let the pillars of my home Crumble and fall away; Lo, G.o.d's dear love within my soul Renews it day by day.

JAMIE'S PUZZLE.

There was grief within our household Because of a vacant chair.

Our mother, so loved and precious, No longer was sitting there.

JAMIE'S PUZZLE. 35

Our hearts grew heavy with sorrow, Our eyes with tears were blind, And little Jamie was wondering, Why we were left behind.

We had told our little darling, Of the land of love and light, Of the saints all crowned with glory, And enrobed in spotless white.

We said that our precious mother, Had gone to that land so fair, To dwell with beautiful angels, And to be forever there.

But the child was sorely puzzled, Why dear grandmamma should go To dwell in a stranger city, When her children loved her so.

But again the mystic angel Came with swift and silent tread, And our sister, Jamie's mother, Was enrolled among the dead.

To us the mystery deepened, To Jamie it seemed more clear;

36 TRUTH.

Grandma, he said, must be lonesome, And mamma has gone to her.

But the question lies unanswered In our little Jamie's mind, Why she should go to our mother, And leave her children behind;

To dwell in that lovely city, From all that was dear to part, From children who loved to nestle So closely around her heart.

Dear child, like you, we are puzzled, With problems that still remain; But think in the great hereafter Their meaning will all be plain.

TRUTH.

A rock, for ages, stern and high, Stood frowning 'gainst the earth and sky, And never bowed his haughty crest When angry storms around him prest.

Morn, springing from the arms of night, Had often bathed his brow with light.

TRUTH. 37

And kissed the shadows from his face With tender love and gentle grace.

Day, pausing at the gates of rest, Smiled on him from the distant West, And from her throne the dark-browed Night Threw round his path her softest light.

And yet he stood unmoved and proud, Nor love, nor wrath, his spirit bowed; He bared his brow to every blast And scorned the tempest as it pa.s.sed.

One day a tiny, humble seed-- The keenest eye would hardly heed-- Fell trembling at that stern rock's base, And found a lowly hiding-place.

A ray of light, and drop of dew, Came with a message, kind and true; They told her of the world so bright, Its love, its joy, and rosy light, And lured her from her hiding-place, To gaze upon earth's glorious face.

So, peeping timid from the ground, She clasped the ancient rock around, And climbing up with childish grace, She held him with a close embrace;

38 DEATH OF THE OLD SEA KING.

Her clinging was a thing of dread; Where'er she touched a fissure spread, And he who'd breasted many a storm Stood frowning there, a mangled form; A Truth, dropped in the silent earth, May seem a thing of little worth, Till, spreading round some mighty wrong, It saps its pillars proud and strong, And o'er the fallen ruin weaves The brightest blooms and fairest leaves.

DEATH OF THE OLD SEA KING.

'Twas a fearful night--the tempest raved With loud and wrathful pride, The storm-king harnessed his lightning steeds, And rode on the raging tide.

The sea-king lay on his bed of death, Pale mourners around him bent; They knew the wild and fitful life Of their chief was almost spent.