Questions & Answers
Many a house of life Hath held me—seeking ever him who wrought These prisons of the senses, sorrow fraught; Love was my senseless strife. But now, Thou builder of this tabernacle—Thou! I know thee! Never shalt thou build again These walls of pain, Nor raise the roof-tree of deceits, nor lay Fresh rafters on the clay; Broken thy house is, and the ridge pole spilt! Delusion fashioned it! Safe pass I thence—deliverance to obtain.
Two birds once sat upon a tree: "What's that?" One to the other said—"Just see!" The other looked—"'Tis a—dear me!— Old hat. " "And something else," the first one cried, "Now look!" The other, laughing, almost died, As down among the fruit he spied what shook And waved with menance bold and free It's arms, And crooked a limp and shaky knee In winds, but hung as straight could be In calms.
Hark! I hear, I hear them calling, "Here—up here!" Thanks, great Heaven, I am stronger, Slave to earthly last no longer, I am free. Oh, this pure and heavenly whiteness, Marking thee! Death shall us no more dissever; Humbly thank great God together, Thou and me.
Great are the symbols of being, but that which is symbolled is greater; Vast the create and beheld, but vaster the inward Creator; Back of the sound broods the silence, back of the gift stands the giving, Back of the hand that receives thrill the sensitive nerves of receiving. Space is as nothing to Spirit, the deed is outdone by the doing; Time is as nothing to Him, hatred is shadow of loving; And up from the pits where these shiver, and up from the heights where those shine, Twin voices and shadows swim starward, and the essence of life is divine.
"Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings:— Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul! As the swift seasons roll: Leave thy low-vaulted past; Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine out-grown shell by life's un resting sea. "— O.
"Heard are the voices, Heard are the sages, The worlds and the ages: Choose well, your choice is Brief and yet endless. Here eyes do regard you, In Eternity's stillness; Here is all fulness, Ye brave, to reward you; Work and despair not.
"Be perfect in spirit," said'st thou? Knowest thou all it implied, To drink of His cup to the dregs, In sorrow and tears purified? In Gethsemane's garden to walk, To surrender all earth's ties; Has thy soul caught the gleam of Eter nity's sun, That " Be perfect in spirit " implies? Oh! teach me, if so, that I, too, May stand on the heights all alone, Till the echo of words thou hast spoken, Fill my soul with their musical tone. Till my faltering steps are made strong, By the gleam thou hast caught of the sun, And more perfect each day I can say, "Thy will.
When cares fall on me like a pall, And boding fears and sorrows, all Infold me in their gloomy arms, Or fill me with their dread alarms, 'Tis then like healing unction shed As soothing balm, about my head, Or calming oil on tossing waves, Or incense on foul, dismal graves, Or salt thrown on a raging fire, 'Tis then that you have power to save, And teach reflection to a knave. When spirits fail and hearts grow sick, And gloom is gnawing to the quick, No glimmering of hope appears, And no kind friend or beacon cheers The soul, just sinking 'neath its load, Lost and beweary, on the road.
Immortal Love!— thou Christ that was, Thou Christ that is to be! Thou spirit shining down through time, From the shores of Galilee. We place our hearts on things of Earth.
Isle of beauty, thou art singing To my sense a sweet refrain; To my busy mem'ry bringing Forms that I would see again. Glows the charm of thy reflecting In the moral that it brings? Nature with the mind connecting, Gave the artist's fancy, wings.