Hesperus Part 1

Hesperus.

by Charles Sangster.

POEMS.

DEDICATORY POEM.

Dear Carrie, were we truly wise, And could discern with finer eyes, And half-inspired sense, The ways of Providence:

Could we but know the hidden things That brood beneath the Future's wings, Hermetically sealed, But soon to be revealed:

Would we, more blest than we are now, In due submission learn to bow,-- Receiving on our knees The Omnipotent decrees?

That which is just, we have. And we Who lead this round of mystery, This dance of strange unrest, What are we at the best?--

Unless we learn to mount and climb; Writing upon the page of time, In words of joy or pain, That we've not lived in vain.

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We all are Ministers of Good; And where our mission's understood, How many hearts we must Raise, trembling, from the dust.

Oh, strong young soul, and thinking brain!

Walk wisely through the fair domain Where burn the sacred fires Of Music's sweet desires!

Cherish thy Gift; and let it be A Jacob's ladder unto thee, Down which the Angels come, To bring thee dreams of Home.

What were we if the pulse of Song Had never beat, nor found a tongue To make the Poet known In lands beyond his own?

Take what is said for what is meant.

We sometimes touch the firmament Of starry Thought--no more; Beyond, we may not soar.

I speak not of myself, but stand In silence till the Master Hand Each fluttering thought sets free.

G.o.d holds the golden key.

Kingston, C. W., May 1st, 1860.

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HESPERUS:

A LEGEND OF THE STARS.

PRELUDE.

The Stars are heaven's ministers; Right royally they teach G.o.d's glory and omnipotence, In wondrous lowly speech.

All eloquent with music as The tremblings of a lyre, To him that hath an ear to hear They speak in words of fire.

Not to learned sagas only Their whisperings come down; The monarch is not glorified Because he wears a crown.

The humblest soldier in the camp Can win the smile of Mars, And 'tis the lowliest spirits hold Communion with the stars.

Thoughts too refined for utterance, Ethereal as the air, Crowd through the brain's dim labyrinths, And leave their impress there; {12}

As far along the gleaming void Man's tender glances roll, Wonder usurps the throne of speech, But vivifies the soul.

Oh, heaven-cradled mysteries, What sacred paths ye've trod-- Bright, jewelled scintillations from The chariot-wheels of G.o.d!

When in the spirit He rode forth, With vast creative aim, These were His footprints left behind, To magnify His name!

We gazed on the Evening Star, Mary and I, As it shone On its throne Afar, In the blue sky; Shone like a ransomed soul In the depths of that quiet heaven; Like a pearly tear, Trembling with fear On the pallid cheek of Even.

And I thought of the myriad souls Gazing with human eyes On the light of that star, Shining afar, In the quiet evening skies;

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Some with winged hope, Clearing the cope Of heaven as swift as light, Others, with souls Blind as the moles, Sinking in rayless night.

Dreams such as dreamers dream Flitted before our eyes; Beautiful visions!-- Angelo's, t.i.tian's, Had never more gorgeous dyes: We soared with the angels Through vistas of glory, We heard the evangels Relate the glad story Of the beautiful star, Shining afar In the quiet evening skies.

And we gazed and dreamed, Till our spirits seemed Absorbed in the stellar world; Sorrow was swallowed up, Drained was the bitter cup Of earth to the very lees; And we sailed over seas Of white vapour that whirled Through the skies afar, Angels our charioteers, Threading the endless spheres,

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And to the chorus of angels Rehea.r.s.ed the evangels The Birth of the Evening Star.

I.

Far back in the infant ages, Before the eras stamped their autographs Upon the stony records of the earth; Before the burning incense of the sun Rolled up the interlucent s.p.a.ce, Brightening the blank abyss; Ere the Recording Angel's tears Were shed for man's transgressions: A Seraph, with a face of light, And hair like heaven's golden atmosphere, Blue eyes serene in their beat.i.tude, G.o.dlike in their tranquillity, Features as perfect as G.o.d's dearest work, And stature worthy of her race, Lived high exalted in the sacred sphere That floated in a sea of harmony Translucent as pure crystal, or the light That flowed, unceasing, from this higher world Unto the spheres beneath it. Far below The extremest regions underneath the Earth The first spheres rose, of vari-coloured light, In calm rotation through aerial deep, Like seas of jasper, blue, and coralline, Crystal and violet; layers of worlds-- The robes of ages that had pa.s.sed away,

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Left as memorials of their sojournings.

For nothing pa.s.ses wholly. All is changed.

The Years but slumber in their sepulchres, And speak prophetic meanings in their sleep.

FIRST ANGEL.

Oh, how our souls are gladdened, When we think of that brave old age, When G.o.d's light came down From heaven, to crown Each act of the virgin page!

Oh, how our souls are saddened, At the deeds which were done since then, By the angel race In the holy place, And on earth by the sons of men!