Legends and Lyrics-1 [24]
that can bear me back to Times
Which cannot come again -
Yet God forbid that I should lose
The echoes that remain!
VERSE: THE DARK SIDE
Thou hast done well, perhaps,
To lift the bright disguise,
And lay the bitter truth
Before our shrinking eyes;
When evil crawls below
What seems so pure and fair,
Thine eyes are keen and true
To find the serpent there:
And yet--I turn away;
Thy task is not divine -
The evil angels look
On earth with eyes like thine.
Thou hast done well, perhaps,
To show how closely wound
Dark threads of sin and self
With our best deeds are found.
How great and noble hearts,
Striving for lofty aims,
Have still some earthly cord
A meaner spirit claims;
And yet--although thy task
Is well and fairly done,
Methinks for such as thou
There is a holier one.
Shadows there are, who dwell
Among us, yet apart,
Deaf to the claim of God,
Or kindly human heart;
Voices of earth and heaven
Call, but they turn away,
And Love, through such black night,
Can see no hope of day;
And yet--our eyes are dim,
And thine are keener far -
Then gaze till thou canst see
The glimmer of some star.
The black stream flows along,
Whose waters we despise -
Show us reflected there
Some fragment of the skies;
'Neath tangled thorns and briars,
(The task is fit for thee,)
Seek for the hidden flowers,
We are too blind to see;
Then will I thy great gift
A crown and blessing call;
Angels look thus on men,
And God sees good in all!
VERSE: A FIRST SORROW
Arise! this day shall shine,
For evermore,
To thee a star divine,
On Time's dark shore.
Till now thy soul has been
All glad and gay:
Bid it awake, and look
At grief to-day!
No shade has come between
Thee and the sun;
Like some long childish dream
Thy life has run:
But now the stream has reached
A dark, deep sea,
And Sorrow, dim and crowned,
Is waiting thee.
Each of God's soldiers bears
A sword divine:
Stretch out thy trembling hands
To-day for thine!
To each anointed Priest
God's summons came:
Oh, Soul, he speaks to-day
And calls thy name.
Then, with slow reverent step,
And beating heart,
From out thy joyous days,
Thou must depart.
And, leaving all behind,
Come forth, alone,
To join the chosen band
Around the throne.
Raise up thine eyes--be strong,
Nor cast away
The crown, that God has given
Thy soul to-day!
VERSE: MURMURS
Why wilt thou make bright music
Give forth a sound of pain?
Why wilt thou weave fair flowers
Into a weary chain?
Why turn each cool grey shadow
Into a world of fears?
Why say the winds are wailing?
Why call the dewdrops tears?
The voices of happy nature,
And the Heaven's sunny gleam,
Reprove thy sick heart's fancies,
Upbraid thy foolish dream.
Listen, and I will tell thee
The song Creation sings,
From the humming of bees in the heather,
To the flutter of angels' wings.
An echo rings for ever,
The sound can never cease;
It speaks to God of glory,
It speaks to Earth of peace.
Not alone did angels sing it
To the poor shepherds' ear;
But the sphered Heavens chant it,
While listening ages hear.
Above thy peevish wailing
Rises that holy song;
Above Earth's foolish clamour,
Above the voice of wrong.
No creature of God's too lowly
To murmur peace and praise:
When the starry nights grow silent,
Then speak the sunny days.
So leave thy sick heart's fancies,
And lend thy little voice
To the silver song of glory
That bids the world rejoice.
VERSE: GIVE
See the rivers flowing
Downwards to the sea,
Pouring all their treasures
Bountiful and free -
Yet to help their giving
Hidden springs arise;
Or, if need be, showers
Feed them from the skies!
Watch the princely flowers
Their rich fragrance spread,
Load the air with perfumes,
From their beauty shed -
Yet their lavish spending
Leaves them not in dearth,
With fresh life replenished
By their mother earth!
Give thy heart's best treasures -
From fair Nature learn;
Give thy love--and ask not,
Wait not a return!
And
Which cannot come again -
Yet God forbid that I should lose
The echoes that remain!
VERSE: THE DARK SIDE
Thou hast done well, perhaps,
To lift the bright disguise,
And lay the bitter truth
Before our shrinking eyes;
When evil crawls below
What seems so pure and fair,
Thine eyes are keen and true
To find the serpent there:
And yet--I turn away;
Thy task is not divine -
The evil angels look
On earth with eyes like thine.
Thou hast done well, perhaps,
To show how closely wound
Dark threads of sin and self
With our best deeds are found.
How great and noble hearts,
Striving for lofty aims,
Have still some earthly cord
A meaner spirit claims;
And yet--although thy task
Is well and fairly done,
Methinks for such as thou
There is a holier one.
Shadows there are, who dwell
Among us, yet apart,
Deaf to the claim of God,
Or kindly human heart;
Voices of earth and heaven
Call, but they turn away,
And Love, through such black night,
Can see no hope of day;
And yet--our eyes are dim,
And thine are keener far -
Then gaze till thou canst see
The glimmer of some star.
The black stream flows along,
Whose waters we despise -
Show us reflected there
Some fragment of the skies;
'Neath tangled thorns and briars,
(The task is fit for thee,)
Seek for the hidden flowers,
We are too blind to see;
Then will I thy great gift
A crown and blessing call;
Angels look thus on men,
And God sees good in all!
VERSE: A FIRST SORROW
Arise! this day shall shine,
For evermore,
To thee a star divine,
On Time's dark shore.
Till now thy soul has been
All glad and gay:
Bid it awake, and look
At grief to-day!
No shade has come between
Thee and the sun;
Like some long childish dream
Thy life has run:
But now the stream has reached
A dark, deep sea,
And Sorrow, dim and crowned,
Is waiting thee.
Each of God's soldiers bears
A sword divine:
Stretch out thy trembling hands
To-day for thine!
To each anointed Priest
God's summons came:
Oh, Soul, he speaks to-day
And calls thy name.
Then, with slow reverent step,
And beating heart,
From out thy joyous days,
Thou must depart.
And, leaving all behind,
Come forth, alone,
To join the chosen band
Around the throne.
Raise up thine eyes--be strong,
Nor cast away
The crown, that God has given
Thy soul to-day!
VERSE: MURMURS
Why wilt thou make bright music
Give forth a sound of pain?
Why wilt thou weave fair flowers
Into a weary chain?
Why turn each cool grey shadow
Into a world of fears?
Why say the winds are wailing?
Why call the dewdrops tears?
The voices of happy nature,
And the Heaven's sunny gleam,
Reprove thy sick heart's fancies,
Upbraid thy foolish dream.
Listen, and I will tell thee
The song Creation sings,
From the humming of bees in the heather,
To the flutter of angels' wings.
An echo rings for ever,
The sound can never cease;
It speaks to God of glory,
It speaks to Earth of peace.
Not alone did angels sing it
To the poor shepherds' ear;
But the sphered Heavens chant it,
While listening ages hear.
Above thy peevish wailing
Rises that holy song;
Above Earth's foolish clamour,
Above the voice of wrong.
No creature of God's too lowly
To murmur peace and praise:
When the starry nights grow silent,
Then speak the sunny days.
So leave thy sick heart's fancies,
And lend thy little voice
To the silver song of glory
That bids the world rejoice.
VERSE: GIVE
See the rivers flowing
Downwards to the sea,
Pouring all their treasures
Bountiful and free -
Yet to help their giving
Hidden springs arise;
Or, if need be, showers
Feed them from the skies!
Watch the princely flowers
Their rich fragrance spread,
Load the air with perfumes,
From their beauty shed -
Yet their lavish spending
Leaves them not in dearth,
With fresh life replenished
By their mother earth!
Give thy heart's best treasures -
From fair Nature learn;
Give thy love--and ask not,
Wait not a return!
And