Song-waves Part 6

Over the brow of lofty scar Quivers the light of evening star, And throws within the gorge's gloaming A kiss of beams on the brook afar.

Quivers the stream with strange delight Through all the murmuring hours of night, And to the pale moss tells its story, And lichens fumbling far up the height.

And in its dusk, for aye the brook To cliffy covert, caverned nook, Brattles its sweet and starry secret-- Foregleam of day and an open look!

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Look now! The crested waters sleep; White stars their emerald twilight keep Above the tryst of pensile glories That kiss to purple-and-gold the deep.

Blossoms the rose red as its name; The trees aspire to heaven, like flame; Articulate the gold-eyed songsters; While angels lean from their place of fame.

O sleep, sleep now, sleep silverly, Radiant, divine, deep-bosomed sea!

Thy cradle rocks to skyey breathings, Bright fall Love's shadows on you and me.

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How swift soft-feathered Time sails on Its skyward flight, nor stays to con The gulfs of s.p.a.ce it wingeth over,-- Mere pools that hint of a sh.o.r.eless yon!

Sunsets and dawns, mirage, the sea, Foreshadow Nature's fixed decree, While steady rolls the round of seasons,-- The soul foreknows its eternity.

From spiritual heights beyond the spheres, My ear elusive music hears; In stressful hours it falls and hovers, And life is lift to AEonian years.

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My quickened sense can only plod.

Imagination waves its rod, My spirit burns with lightning splendor, Emotive faith tastes the bread of G.o.d.

As moves the wind on sightless wings, Nor shadow o'er the landscape flings, While seas to chafe of foam are beaten, And plectrum sweeps all the forest strings;

So through the world doth Spirit move, And presence by His working prove,-- A mystery of might and music, A lonelihood of eternal love.

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What Nature mirrors and reveals-- The purblind vision it unseals To sight of awesome Presence holy, That chastens sore ere He soothes and heals,--

The reign of law, with ethic rule E'en in the breast of idle fool, (As moon and stars are heavenly pictured Within the breast of a noisome pool)--

Herein is claim of Nature's worth.

Though I forget the forms of earth, Of gilded cloud and circling planet, I know His fire lives within their girth.

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Green tracery of fern to rust; The shouldering hills to level dust,-- This is the law of rhythmic nature, The ebb and flow of its may and must.

I hear the wind-harp's wilding tones Sobbing a requiem o'er their bones; "The golden-globed skies shall perish,"

The harper harps as he wails and moans.

Wild heart, within thy ruby vault Is flashed a purpose, free of fault From great High Priest's own breast-plate splendid,-- E'en deathless life out of death's a.s.sault.

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What, though the sea-sh.e.l.l cheats the ear, And from my blood, free-coursing near, Unspheres the far and murmurous phantom Of breaking seas that I faintly hear?

Of life beyond there come to me Hints truer than sh.e.l.l's phantom sea,-- I brood all s.p.a.ce, the past, the present, And timeless realms of eternity!

The rose-lipt thing has lost its pearl,-- Death's chamber is its polished whorl; I am a life, and feel of Being No phantom touch, but the vital swirl.

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Says one who with the sad condoles: "No delicate delight unrolls But soon o'er it is flung a shadow."

O feeblest folly of shallow souls!

A foolishness all overworn, Yet deadly as the frost of scorn!

The serious mind is born of sorrow; On Love's brow rested a crown of thorn.

The shadowland is rift with bright-- It did the deed of deeds incite!

The Son of Man, Jehovah's Servant, Through shadows pa.s.sed to His crown of light.

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There ever wakes an evil wraith To test the courage of my faith, As life's dark pa.s.sages are thridded,-- "Alone! Alone!" are the words it saith.

Ah, no! the wraith's an angel one Whose face is always to the sun, A guardian of the heart's temptations, That saves by fear ere the course be run.

'Tis Father love each round of day That shadows in a twilight grey, Or with Love's raven pinion covers, To tempt His child from itself away.

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Far up the brook, beyond the lin, I hear the impatient bluejay's din, While in the browning beech, nut-laden, The chipmunk gathers his harvest in.

(Of all earth's trees exceeding fair, Thee have I loved beyond compare, Most human beech! and felt thy spirit Tremble to mine in the dusky air.)