Questions & Answers
Soft as the tears upon the lids of night, Upon the droughty land my drops alight To loose the bounden earth, To tend the violet's birth. To weave upon the woodland and the hill Garlands — and garlands still ! Canst thou not tell my touch upon the pane, My lisping laughter in the sweet refrain Of wind and wave and sky? And, when the storm is high, My clamorous beat, that mingles with the call Of foss and foam and fall ? I give my gift of bounties uncurtailed, Of growth, and grace unvaried and unveiled ; By me the desert grows The myrtle and the rose, And every blade beneath the heaven of blue Drinks of my crystal dew.
Though darkness shrouds a sleeping world, The little brook still sings ; And hark! o'erhead a happy trill And stir of drowsy wings As wakened bird pours out his heart Upon the silent night ; And there upon the brooklet's edge, Upturned to greet the light. The trusting face of tiny flower Serenely waits the sunrise hour! E'en so would I show perfect trust, Though long may seem the night : E'en so with calmness turn my face To greet the morning light ; E'en so know neither doubt nor fear, The while my glad heart sings : The Sun of righteousness shall rise With healing in His wings ; The healing truth that maketh free The world's enslaved, aye, you and me!
Britons and French with hearts and hands! Knit ye the league of the neighbor lands! Doubts and fears to the winds be hurled! Freedom and friendship win the world! We have conquered each other enough to prove That that which must conquer at last is Love; For a loveless man is a lifeless clod, And the spirit of Love is a spark from God: O Love-star, rise in the night, we pray, And lead, lead on to diviner day. The nations have heard, they have heard a call, The voice was the voice of the Lord of all; His mold is ready, his furnace hot, He hath men's hearts in the smelting-pot ! For a time is coming—ah, let it come! When the tiger in man shall be quelled and dumb; When the shuttle of death shall ply no more 'Twixt the hands of the weaver whose warp is war, And envy and hate no more have sway, For the former things shall have passed away.
His world was very real, they said,— The sky's blue dome stretched overhead, Above deep-blossomed trees. His intimates? Some well-thumbed books.
The Mind that governs all that moves And thinks and feels—each heart that loves; The grace that saves and points the way, And to the deepest night brings day; The might that each dear child upholds; The Love that ever soft enfolds Earth's tired ones, and lifts the brim Of heaven that they may look within! With joy Mind quickens faltering feet; And Truth each day and hour makes sweet. This knowledge will endure for aye; His harmony aye holdeth sway If we but let, and not oppose; Truth's open door no hand can close; The sure supply for all our need; The Life that speaks through thought and deed; The only consciousness that is, That giveth, maketh, knoweth bliss— Our God omnipotent!
I. Faith " My soul doth wait.
Oh , to shut out the world! All day, this day, Like long black banners, blank, unfurled, That shift and sway. The thoughts of mortals have been blown Against my soul all day, this day.
O heart of mine, be still, and cease repining! The future ways are beautiful and bright, For on life's distant paths God's sun is shining, If we have but the power to view aright. Be still, mine heart, and listen to the pealing Of radiant music from the unseen spheres.
March on, my soul, nor like a laggard stay! March swiftly on. Yet err not from the way Where all the nobly wise of old have trod, The path of faith made by the sons of God.
Scale , if thou canst not rest, the age-long peaks, Look from the heights on little worlds and men, Cling panting to the topmost tow'rs of earth! And lest there still abide thine own vain worth, Know that each awe-filled breath thou takest in, Each step that brings thee to the glacier's dome, Are thine from Him within whose outstretched hand Abide the hills which thou dost call thine own. When grim Himal'ya's wilderness of peaks Lay leagues beneath the prehistoric sea; Before the flame begot the hidden gold, Or ever Eden's torrent sprang fourfold.