When rippled by the wind:
Did you see the Dove with wings Bathed in golden glisterings From a sunless light behind,
Dropping on me from the sky, Soft as mother's kiss, until
I seemed to leap and yet was still? Saw you how His love-large eye Looked upon me mystic calms, Till the power of his divine Vision was indrawn to mine? Oh, the dream within the dream! I saw celestial places even. Oh, the vistas of high palms Making finites of delight Through the heavenly infinite, Lifting up their green still tops To the heaven of heaven! Oh, the sweet life-tree that drops Shade like light across the river Glorified in its for ever
Flowing from the Throne ! Oh, the shining holinesses Of the thousand, thousand faces God-sunned by the throned ONE And made intense with such a love That, though I saw them turned above, Each loving seemed for also me ! And, oh, the Unspeakable, the He, The manifest in secrecies
Yet of mine own heart partaker
With the overcoming look
Of One who hath been once forsook
And blesseth the forsaker!
Mother, mother, let me go
Toward the Face that looketh so!
Through the mystic winged Four Whose are inward, outward eyes Dark with light of mysteries
And the restless evermore "Holy holy, holy,"-through
The sevenfold Lamps that burn in view Of cherubim and seraphim,Through the four-and-twenty crowned Stately elders white around,
Suffer me to go to Him!
Is your wisdom very wise, Mother, on the narrow earth, Very happy, very worth That I should stay to learn? Are these air-corrupting sighs Fashioned by unlearned breath Do the students' lamps that burn All night, illumine death? Mother, albeit this be so,
Loose thy prayer and let me go Where that bright chief angel stands Apart from all his brother bands, Too glad for smiling, having bent In angelic wilderment
O'er the depths of God, and brought Reeling thence one only thought To fill his own eternity.
He the teacher is for me
He can teach what I would know
Mother, mother, let me go!
Can your poet make an Eden
No winter will undo,
And light a starry fire while heeding
His hearth's is burning too?
Drown in music the earth's din,
And keep his own wild soul within
The law of his own harmony? Mother, albeit this be so,
Let me to my heaven go !
A little harp me waits thereby,
A harp whose strings are golden all And tuned to music spherical, Hanging on the green life-tree, Where no willows ever be. Shall I miss that harp of mine? Mother, no!—the Eye divine Turned upon it, makes it shine; And when I touch it, poems sweet Like separate souls shall fly from it, Each to the immortal fytte.
We shall all be poets there,
Gazing on the chiefest Fair.
"Love! earth's love! and can we love
Fixedly where all things move?
Can the sinning love each other?
Mother, mother,
I tremble in thy close embrace,
I feel thy tears adown my face,
Thy prayers do keep me out of bliss
O dreary earthly love!
Loose thy prayer and let me go
To the place which loving is Yet not sad; and when is given Escape to thee from this below, Thou shalt behold me that I wait For thee beside the happy Gate, And silence shall be up in heaven To hear our greeting kiss."
The nurse awakes in the morning sun, And starts to see beside her bed The lady with a grandeur spread
Like pathos o'er her face, as one God-satisfied and earth-undone.
The babe upon her arm was dead : And the nurse could utter forth no cry,- She was awed by the calm in the mother's eye.
(6 Wake, nurse!" the lady said;
"We are waking-he and I- I, on earth, and he, in sky : And thou must help me to o'erlay With garment white this little clay Which needs no more our lullaby.
"I changed the cruel prayer I made, And bowed my meekened face, and prayed That God would do His will; and thus
He did it, nurse! He parted us :
And His sun shows victorious
The dead calm face,-and I am calm,
And Heaven is harkening a new psalm.
"This earthly noise is too anear, Too loud, and will not let me hear The little harp. My death will soon Make silence."
And a sense of tune,
A satisfied love meanwhile
Which nothing earthly could despoil,
Sang on within her soul.
Earth's tender and impassioned few, Take courage to entrust your love To Him so named who guards above Its ends and shall fulfil !
Breaking the narrow prayers that may Befit your narrow hearts, away
In His broad, loving will.
THE face which, duly as the sun, Rose up for me with life begun, To mark all bright hours of the day With hourly love, is dimmed away,- And yet my days go on, go on.
The tongue which, like a stream, could run Smooth music from the roughest stone, And every morning with "Good day" Make each day good, is hushed away— And yet my days go on, go on.
The heart which, like a staff, was one For mine to lean and rest upon,
The strongest on the longest day With steadfast love, is caught away,— And yet my days go on, go on.
And cold before my summer's done, And deaf in Nature's general tune, And fallen too low for special fear, And here, with hope no longer here,— While the tears drop, my days go on.
The world goes whispering to its own, "This anguish pierces to the bone;" And tender friends go sighing round, "What love can ever cure this wound?"
My days go on, my days go on.
The past rolls forward on the sun
And makes all night. O dreams begun,
Not to be ended! Ended bliss, And life that will not end in this!
My days go on, my days go on.
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