/{•lHiH^(^ ^^fj/:2li9df Cornell University Library PR 4349.B4609 Out of the depths, poems. 3 1924 013 448 075 63 OUT OF THE DEPTHS Cornell University Library The original of tinis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013448075 Out of the Depths POEMS W. BUTTON BURRARD LONDON KEGAN PAUL, TRENCH, TRUBNER, & CO. L PATERNOSTER HOUSE, CHARING CROSS ROAD 1892 K A, \^''b^■Ma The rights of translation and of reproduction are reserved. TO MY FRIEND, EDWARD TRAVBRS DIXON. CONTENTS. THE SUICIDE .... PAGE I IF ONLY ONE COULD TELL . ID POSSIBILITIES . 12 BEREAVEMENT ■ 13 THE EARTH-WORM IS IN A CATHEDRAL 16 MATTER 23 YOU AND I • 43 THE SUN ... ■ 44 CHANGE • 45 WAITING .... • 47 SEPARATION • 49 A THEISTIC HYMN ■ SI MADELKINE S3 PESSIMISM ■ SS TARES . 56 LOVE • 59 MAGNETISM . . 60 TO A LADY . . .... . 62 THE FALL OF MAN . . . 64 FRIENDSHIP . 8S THE SUICIDE. (27-2-91.) I. Put it away — I cannot bear the sight Of that dead purple face, with horrid stain, That mark of infamy, that brand of Cain ; Put it away — and may the coming night Strike darkness on my brain ! Draw on the sheet — lock up the door — efface So gruesome spectacle from sight of man ; Let those look on, who wish to look, and can But I have neither wish, nor strength to face The seal of that trepan. I lov'd him not in life ; I loathe him dead ; I gaze in horror on that lifeless clay ; Alas ! philosophy hath gone astray. And left me trembling with a nameless dread, Which nothing can allay. OUT OF THE DEPTHS. I shrink from him, as from a thing accurst, Who dared to raise his hand, and break the Rod Of Life, vouchsafed to him in trust by God ; Who dared to spurn the precious gift, and durst Make of himself a clod. And yet — who knows what agony of mind He suffer'd, ere he took that final leap. Beneath the plane of finite thought, where deep Below the surface of this earthly rind. He found Lethean sleep ? Who knows — who dares to formulate a guess, As how the growing torture of his brain Increased, and grew, and ever grew again, While fortitude grew ever less and less. Before such maddening pain ? Who knows ? — It's surely not for mortal mind To mete out formal judgment, wholly based On false analogies of self, encased In narrow'd groove, where tortures of such kind Had never to be faced. THE SUICIDE. 3 No, no — as God be just, I plead no, no ! For his was not the usual coward case, Where men lose heart and head before disgrace. Where men slay manhood, rather than forego A single woman's face. No such material form of pain was there. But rather torture exquisitely keen. As subtly terrible, as can be seen Upon this planet-world, or anywhere. Or as has ever been. The consciousness of some disordered blend, Some occult lesion, hidden deep, or flaw Incognizable as God's cosmic law. Yet working surely to its psychic end. And flooding him with awe. Inherited maybe, or haply due To some sporadic genesis of force, Which, baffling science, yet in silent course Insidiously moves on, and leaves no clue, To mark its hidden source. OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Advancing, snake-like, stealthily — as vain To stay the moments, hurrying swiftly by — Destroying mind, and prompting him to cry, " Than mine, no brain is greater ! " and again, " How happy 'twere to die ! " Lies — vain lies ! — evolved with crafty aim, The tortured wretch still hoping for reprieve ; Delivered with intention to deceive ; The product of a mind, enwrapt in flame From morning until eve. So earnestly to be believed he sought. His torture truly must have been intense ; For he retain'd an equipoise of sense. Which sanely showed him, how each day was bought At sanity's expense. And as the circling wavelets on a pond, Disturb'd in its placidity, expand And circle outward, till they reach the land, So moved the subtle poison, till beyond His power of command. THE SUICIDE. 5 Till subterfuge went under, and pretence No longer making effort to retain A semblance of that studied front, the brain At length awoke to overwhelming sense Of vitriolic pain. And then the end drew nigh ! By God and man Forsaken, helpless, face to face with hell On earth, outcast from all he loved so well — A thing of speechless shame — by hideous ban. He rais'd his hand, and fell ! And quicker than a flash from lightning-flame. The spark of life went out, and lo ! — the dew Of death appear'd on brow, and rigid grew The body, there— for all the world the same. Yet infinitely new. Oh ! mystery inscrutable ! Oh ! strange Unfathomable problem, whence the light Of consciousness, and how in hurried flight It vanishes again beyond the range Of philosophic light ! OUT OF THE DEPTHS. II. Put it away, I said, but I recall In sorrow, the intolerant behest ; Self-communing hath taught me, curs'd or blest, 'Tis not for human hand to lift the pall Of his eternal rest. Unlock the door — draw back the sheet — unveil So sad a spectacle to sight of man. Let those lay blame who wish to blame, and can, But I have neither wish, nor heart to rail At anything so wan. Draw down the blind ; subdue the morning light ; Tread reverently in presence of the dead ; With flowers deftly decorate his bed, And purple mark conceal with lilies white. Arranged about his head. THE SUICIDE. 7 Do honour to the corse ! What thoughts are mine, As silently beside the bier I stand ! How weak and fragile seems that sinning hand, Which launch'd a human soul across the line Of mystic shadow-land ! What power infinite is this, which lies Concealed within the seeming puny scope Of human impotence ! What need to grope 'Midst earth-worms in the soil, when one might rise To almost boundless hope ! Oh ! fool ! — what power lies within thy grasp, Of which to make vain boast ? A mere machine Art thou, whose attributes of harm are seen Throughout the living world. Did not an asp Destroy a mighty queen ? With them thou can'st destroy. But can'st thou make ? Can'st thou, except in automatic way. Likewise possess'd by them, produce one ray Of consciousness ? Can'st thou, with all at stake, Mould life from silent clay ? OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Nay more, apart from life, can'st thou create One single speck of dust ? Can'st thou, on wings Of science, add to earth's eternal springs One drop ? Can'st thou affect the aggregate Of seething, vortex rings ? Oh ! fool, prate not of power ! To the Mind Of God, what art thou ? What, indeed, thy race. So firmly rooted ? Think of Time and Space, Which are to Him no more than whispering wind Across an infant's face. What art thou ? What, indeed ? When Milky Way In labour-agony, with central sun Gestating in its awful womb, where none Save God can see, is nought — where, day by day. The myriad ages run ! Is nought— is nothing ! Just a game of bowls, Played on a bowhng-green some summer night, For pastime simple, or perchance delight In calculating how the bias rolls The ball from left to right ! THE SUICIDE. And yet — in spite of all, one little ray Of light illumes the darkness ; for I dare To hear the still small voice of Soul declare, That though to Him we are as flecks of spray, God has us in His care ! OUT OF THE DEPTHS. IF ONLY ONE COULD TELL. If only one could tell, When call'd upon a line to take, With Destiny, itself, at stake, If only one could tell. Then would it be well. If only one could know, When face to face with choice of path. Rank weeds, or fruitful aftermath, If only one could know, What harvests would one mow ! If only one could see The nature of that silken thread. Which ultimately weighs like lead. If only one could see. Then would one be free. IF ONLY ONE COULD TELL, If only one could hear That still, small voice, which lies within, Challenging the approach of sin, If only one could hear, To God would one be near ! OUT OF THE DEPTHS. POSSIBILITIES. And so the world wags on. We meet, And know at once, that we could love, Were opportunity at hand, Were time and space at our command. Know it surely as the dove Is guided by her true mate's greet. We feel it in our secret heart, We see it in each other's eye, By signs too subtle to dissect. We realize, what we suspect. And yet a tender, soft, good-bye Is all we say — and then, we part. Separate, and nought, not e'en Remembrance lives, unless perchance When gazing on the stars of heav'n ; Think, if Fate had only giv'n More propitious circumstance. How different might our lives have been ! BEREAVEMENT. 13 BEREA VEMENT. Sigh, drooping spirit, sigh ! The sky o'erhead is lowering darkly, And all to thee is black ; But though thou sigh'st a thousand sighs, Thou can'st not bring her back. Sigh, sobbing spirit, sigh ! For 'cross thy life is cast a cloud. Resembling some funereal shroud. That hides from thee the morning-light And makes the day appear as night. Grim and fearful to the eye. Weep, weary spirit, weep ! Pour out thine heart-felt lamentation. Pray to God, thy woes to steep In gentle, loving, death-like sleep. To ease thee in thy tribulation ; For rest from thee hath gone, Arid thou art all alone Amidst the turmoil of creation. 14 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Moan, mournful spirit, moan ! Thou can'st not breathe the heavy air, All speech is stifled by despair, Since thou art all alone. Raise to God thy streaming eyes. Gasp out thine awful agony. Pour forth thy speechless misery In dumb-mute moans and sighs. Bow down thy head before His Face, Prostrate thyself and plead for grace. Lift up thy grief towards the Throne, For she hath gone from thee for ever. Across the spectral boundary-river. And left thee all alone ! THE EARTH-WORM. 15 THE EARTH-WORM. Love, through languid hours of ease, Held me chain'd, on bended knees. Cloy'd to madness, I withdrew, And to Knowledge turned my view. Beaten backward, helpless, blind. Duty occupied my mind. I'hen, at length, from off the ground I rais'd my eyes, and solace found. i6 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. IN A CATHEDRAL. I. Swell ORGAN music swept the aisle, Within the grey cathedral pile, And there I tarried for a while. After contact with the street, The rumbling traffic, tramp of feet. Such strains to me seem'd passing sweet. With hidden face, on bended knee, I sank into a reverie, My soul at peace, my spirit free. I heeded not the throng around. Bowing in reverence to the ground, I only heard the music's sound. IN A CATHEDRAL. ly And what it spake, I do not try To paint in words, since human eye Cannot conceive of things on high ; Since human speech, and human hand Are circumscribed by finite band, The Hmit we may understand. II. Art, the servitor of sense, Cannot presume to excellence. Beyond her master's competence. All art, for ever thus applied. Hath degraded and decried The holy thing it glorified. Daring to paint in red and green. On canvas coarse, conception mean. The greatest mysteries unseen. Daring to hew from earthly stone — Oh ! blind conceit — can aught condone ? — The Figure of the Great Unknown. OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Daring in tawdry speech to say, What follows on that awful day When body turns again to clay. Narrowing to finite span Things that were, ere worlds began. Thus degrading God to man. III. In ecstasy, there is access To subtler forms of consciousness, Than we concretely can express. Such emotion may be found In the whirlwind's solemn sound, Thundering mightily around. Or, perchance, on topmost peak Of mountain high, when rosy streak Foretells the dawn about to break. Or in grand, orchestral strain. Where may be discern'd a vein Of higher thought, than words obtain. IN A CATHEDRAL. 19 In such moments, undefined And vague impressions subtly find An ingress into mortal mind — • Impressions inarticulate At best, yet to the normal state Concept-power, passing great. IV. In one long quivering note on high, The strains, sunk under, whisp'ring, die ; So, I think, the angels sigh. Sweet meditation, snapt in twain Thus rudely, 'tis with fuller pain To mortal things I turn again — To mortal things, to mortal tongue. Threats from out the pulpit flung. Of helUsh torture for the young. The old, and those of every age. For all — for nothing can assuage The inextinguishable rage. 20 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Of him they have created God, Who ruleth with an iron rod, Who takes delight in human blood ; Who pays no heed to human cries. Who pants for human sacrifice, And pardons only, when Christ dies. V. Lord, for how long shall it be Thy beneficent decree, That man should thus consider Thee ! Hath not the human race progress'd Yet far enough, with a bequest Of further Reason, to be blest ? Hath not the mind of man evolved. So that now may e'en be solved The mysteries in Thee involved ? At least a further gift of light, Disclosing to our purblind sight, Thy Love's illimitable height ? IN A CATHEDRAL. At least one single spark of grace, To raise upright the coward race, Who dare not look Thee in the Face. Who dare not e'en — let it be said — Approach Thy Throne, so sore afraid, Without a Mediator's aid ? VI. I see a stately mansion rise, By aid of pinewood, derrick, guys. Stretching to the very skies. Erected, and fast ran the sands Of myriad years, by helping hands From thrice ten thousand distant lands. And written on a mystic scroll, "I am the Pure and Perfect Soul, TTieistic, Undivided, Whole." And the scaffoldings of Christ, Mahomet, Buddha, Eucharist, Fade away into the mist. OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Their work complete, their function done ; And every nation 'neath the Throne, Gives glory to Thy Name alone. For in that edifice erect. Every creed and every sect, Meet and worship Thee direct. MATTER. 23 MA TT BR. (to g. o. s. p.) How strange it should be so ! I know not e'en thy Christian name, and yet, Among those entities — alas ! so few — Which make to me the aggregate of life. Thou hold'st a place, an honoured place, unique ; No corner-stone, 'tis true, on which be based The sum of my well-being — rather say, Some cunningly constructed co-support, Let in the built-up edifice, whereby To hold aloft, and skilfully sustain The crown of Mind. Chance threw me in thy way, A sudden call of duty — nothing more — A few short hours' sojourn on that cliff. Uprising purely white from out the waves, 24 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. The bulwark of a mighty nation's pride ; >5 Whence England took her grand historic name, At once the execration of her foes, Discerning therein symbolised a strength, Beyond their artificial armaments, And so vindictive — and to us, so dear. Ay, chance I call it, for no better name Presents itself to that dull, glimmering light I designate with rare grandiloquence, My Knowledge. Chance ! — as though the hidden Force, Directing myriad worlds throughout that space, =5 Which is to us eternal, could not bend To turn attention to the trivial needs Of poor Humanity ! 'Twas like unto The junction of two elements, akin. Our meeting — Wahlverwandtschaft call'd by him, 30 Whose towering intellect bequeath'd to man A clearer insight into human ways, And, legacy divine, a wider sense Of things beyond the Knowledge Absolute Of mortal mind. 35 Throughout that snow-clad night. MATTER. We sat and talk'd around the homely fire, Without one pause, or wish on either side. To break the chain of sympathetic speech, Which held us bound ; all thought of natural sleep Thrust out by that far-reaching, subtle sense. Affinity of mind — which gives to those, Whom destiny, through mental turn, hath mark'd To tread in solitude the path of life, No kindred soul at hand, more true repose. More deeply subtle consciousness of rest. Than can the god-maid, Slumber, e'en defied. In kindest mood, with witchery and wile Achieve. And when the first cold rays of dawn Broke from the east across the wintry sky. Disclosing dimly to the gaze the land, All white with frosted snow, and down beyond A waste of waters, desolate as death. There were we still engag'd in colloquy, More earnest, sympathetic, more at one. Than e'en had been at first, eight hours before. And then — the tell-tale minute-hand in view. Killing the precious moments, one by one, Relentlessly exact, and caring nought 26 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. For mortal circumstance — the time had come, So soon, for me to go. But in that night, « Those silent hours, when our world, asleep. Forgot its sorrows, and in tranquil dreams Lived o'er again the multifarious joys. Which are the lot of all, we forg'd a chain Of such good part, as only death can break ; « A golden chain of purest sympathy, Where mind to mind, electively akin, Goes forth to find a living complement. Wherewith to make itself, if not complete, — Which only love can do — at least so strong, ? That not e'en separation, such as ours. With twice three thousand leagues of brine between, — And what test more severe ! — can tear apart The links, that bind. I oft lay down my book. And, lost in musing reverie, recall : That bygone scene ; repicturing thy face, lUumin'd with an intellectual light. That ever shone more clear, as argument. The fruits of wide research, and deeper thought. Cemented with conviction's seal, broke forth MATTER. 27 In round sonorous tones — as rugged strong A cast of countenance, as is — and yet, So passing sad. Methinks, 'tis ever thus With those, by destiny impell'd, who dare To scale the very topmost crags expos'd as To our defective sight ; indifferent To all things on a lower plane of thought. Where winds in placid course the stream of life ; Yet conscious to a most acute degree Of that deep-rooted, peace-destroying pain, 90 Which isolation brings. 'Tis difficult, I find, despite much anxious communing. To estimate the prudence of that course. On which, with so much zeal, thou hast embark'd. The enterprise is one, so perilous, 95 So awful in its hideous consequence. So fraught with evil-omen, that the path. Which leadeth to accomplishment, is white With dead-men's bones, sole evidence of those. Who have preceded thee, and fail'd : for though 100 To thee, fresh caught within the toils, the quest Comes in the light of some new-born conceit, 28 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. The offspring of subjective reverie, In very truth it has, since world began, Or leastways, since the race first rose to speech, Absorb'd the highest faculties of mind. 'Tis like unto a goodly youth, who, born With instincts subtle and a soaring mind, Denied to those poor tillers of the soil. Whom Fate had destined for his intercourse, At length grows weary of such commonplace. And sallies forth, equipped from head to foot. With morion of intellect, and coat Of mail, each link of which a verity Of Knowledge Positive — his mind intent On finding for himself some resting-place. Whereon to found a homestead, more attun'd To his exalted sympathies. And, lo, In course of time, his heart aglow with hope, And every pulse a-tingling with the sense Of unaccustom'd enterprise, he leaves The plains beneath, without one glance bestow'd. And quickly pressing on, by zig-zag path. And route precipitous, he disappears MATTER. 29 Within the melancholy fastnesses i^s Which mark that unknown land. And yet to him There is no fear. The novelty alone Sufficient is to lend a lenient view To his environment ; combin'd with which Is zeal unquenchable, a living fire, 130 Monopolising heart, and mind, and soul. And flooding him with incontestable Virility. And so he travels on. Rejoicing rather in the toilsome way, And even courting obstacles ; the which, 13- If small, at once surmounting; and if great, Not satisfied, until he'd found the means, By which to overcome. Thus many months. Extending e'en to years, when comes a day. When face to face with narrow defile-pass, w He halts and looks around ; and what he sees, Recalls to him a fact, long since forgot ; That mortal body, cast in finite mould, A slave must be to mortal attribute. No matter what the expedients employ'd, 145 30 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Whereby to relegate the coil, and rise Pre-eminent. For into that stout heart, Whose well-timed beat, unerringly exact, Hath never swerv'd the fraction of a hair Throughout untold vicissitudes, there steals 150 The first faint glimmer of a timorous quake. The consciousness of fear. So firmly fixed Had been his vigilance upon the ground, Wherefrom he'd tried to disengage a clue. To lead him on, instead of from above, iss Where clearly rose the snow-capt mountain peaks, Discernible from far, and hence a guide. He had not noted, how a gradual change, Had compass'd him about. And now, behold. He finds the towering heights, on either side, ifc Have narrow'd, imperceptibly, so close. That where before there stretched a gracious width. Now nothing but a defile stands, and that Converging still. With which he looks behind. And for a moment entertains the thought i^s Of turning backward to retrace his steps. And mark where he went wrong ; when comes, at once. MATTER. 31 Conviction, strong as certainty, that he No fault hath made, nor could have made. Since every step advanced had been the fruit 170 Of flawless argument, each link deduced From that preceding, and the chain complete. And then as climax to such questioning, But idle, since inevitable the end. Upon his slowly waking sense there dawns 175 A staggering fact, to wit, that e'en so willed — The obstacles, he'd travers'd on his way With so much ease, assuming now a front So sternly difficult that all attempt To scale the scarpe most certainly must fail — iso The retrogressive steps had pass'd beyond The power of his competence. And so, Dissembhng his dismay, as best he can. Not e'en admitting it within himself. He plunges, with a well-afFected zeal, iss Into the dark recesses of the pass. And, going, thus self-communes, gaining strength. " The heart of man is like unto a bird. That takes to roost at every passing cloud. 32 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Deeming the sun hath set. The Brain, alone, The toiler after Knowledge Positive, Retains its equipoise, and scouts to scorn Illusions of the eye ; equipped with that. Which nothing can gainsay, Eternal Truth ; Acquired, and pieced together, link by link. Without a ilaw, synthetically sound, And prov'd ten thousand times within the fire Of overwhelming evidence. Though dark This moment to the view, and hemm'd all round, Save for this narrow egress, passing on Apparently to gloom the more intense, No cause there be for fear, since Brain assures By logic, incontestably exact, 'Tis but a passing cloud — Light lies beyond." But soon he finds, that if such be the case, — And heresy unspeakable to doubt A predication of the Hallow'd Brain — 'Tis well to practise scientific mode. And recognise in reason, that a term, Elastically vague as is beyond, Need not as natural consequence imply MATTER. 33 The light predicted, to be close at hand ; For clearly, without qualifying term, The word beyond indefinite becomes. Synonymous ^txih yonder, which may mean =i_s But fifty feet, or even fifty mile. And so, absurd to take in finite sense. Therefore But why pursue such sophistries, With which he, self-deceiving, makes attempt To pacify the undissembling pulse ! ==» For fear is on him now, and nought can bring Conviction to the contrary. Such gloom As now confronts him, so intensely deep. That straining eye can barely just discern The waters dripping from the cavern walls, ^% And coating all the roadway green with slime, A peril to the heedless, lies beyond The confines of his cognizance. And yet. In little time, he plunges into gloom, So terrible, that that, which went before, =3- Was as the day. For now, 'tis black as night, Conjoin'd to which, the passage, narrowing still, c 34 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Becomes, in time, so small, that he is fain To grope his toilsome way on hands and feet, Crawling along like some dumb animal, =3s In search of shelter, wounded unto death, Yet finding none. And so he labours on, Till e'en he fears the Citadel of Mind, The Brain itself, on which his all depends, Must fail before such horror, as is his ; ^40 For ghostly voices strike upon his ear. Crying in wailing tone — " Go back ! Go back ! " — Hallucinations of a surety. Fell sign of failing nerve. And then, with hope Well-nigh extinct, with brain on fire, and strength =4s No longer capable of making stand, He spies ahead a little glimmering light — And never beacon shone more welcomely — A faint, dull speck of misty grey — no more — Such as steals in at the frosted window-pane =5° On bleakest winter's dawn — and yet to him. No gladder sight could be. — " It is," he says, "The promised light beyond !" As thing bereft. He madly scrambles on, regarding nought MATTER. 3S Save that, afore — the jagged stones ignor'd, =5s The slime contemn'd — and every step he takes . Brings it to joyful view, more full and clear. Until at length^ a shaft of yellow light Breaks straight with blinding force upon his gaze ; Yet not before it hath disclos'd to him =6o The end of his long, torturing sepulture, And day beyond. So great the sudden glare, His eyes, accustom'd to the ebon shades. See rather less, than that they did before ; But eyesight is not needed, for the path, =65 He knows, leads straight beyond, where hope, and life, And e'en the object of his quest reside. One struggle more, and he hath reached the goal. The cool breeze breaketh on his brow. With sense Of peace ineffable, he sinketh down, »7o Grateful that of the Universal Force — Grateful to whom, to what, he doth not know. Nor even marks the full absurdity Of feeling gratitude towards a thing, Unknown, yet known to be inanimate — 'n So grand a part-resultant should be found Of matter-entity within his brain. 36 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. And so he lieth, till, his eyes at ease, His eyelids languid ope, and then — AA I God I — How strange at such a time, that Name forgot =»> Should rise unbidden to the palsied lips ! — He springeth to his feet with hideous cry. Upon a narrow ledge of rock, he stands. As in mid-air, with precipice below. And towering perpendicularly up =ss A scarp behind. The entrance to the pass Hath gone. No other egress is at hand. Annihilation fronts him, face to face. Alone in that dread attitude expos'd, Beyond all hope of mortal help, and God »9o A thing of nought ; with no alternative. Rejecting violent means, save lingering death, Unspeakably more awful to endure ; Blanch'd to the lips, he calls upon the Brain, His sole ally, in frenzied tone, for aid, =95 Foreknowing that upon its stamina, — And never leant man on more broken reed — Depends his all. — And what makes it reply ? My friend, from sad experience I speak. And thus in allegorical disguise 300 MATTER. 37 Minutely trace the path of that poor soul, Whose mental predilection — thing unsought, Inherent, uncontrollable, as much Intrinsic portion of his entity. As hand or eye — inclines in natural course m To Matter, as the source of things unknown. I, too, have stood upon that narrow ledge. Peering, with horror-stricken countenance. Into that awful Nothingness below ; Heard the loud laugh maniacal, and mark'd im How e'en the living shadows of the place Seemed steep'd in apathy, too dull to move. I, too, have raised despairing cry for aid. Turned to the hallow'd brain, my one support. Looking thereto for help in direst need, 3's Ne'er doubting the result, so strong my trust. So firm my faith — so trebly blind my sight 1 For there, it fail'd me, helplessly succumb'd, Went under — swift as shot beneath the waves, Dragging by its own weight to unknown depths 3™ The rigid corpse, attach'd — its boasted strength A thing of rags, and I — a thing of woe. 38 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Of woe, indeed ! For nought was left to me Of life, save death — either the end to make By act precipitate, or linger on, 32; Existing still in that I breath'd, but lost To every hope and sense that make the sum Of earthly happiness. 'Twas then, that I, In that dread need, by hidden force impell'd, Gaz'd upwards, and discern'd the Helping Hand, 33 Outstretched towards me pitiful and kind. And heard a Voice. " Confound not things apart ! Severalize the Giver from the Gift I The Light of Reason have I thee bequeath' d. For use, and not abuse. As given thee, 3; So can it be withdrawn, if found to fail Thy stewardship. Look up, and comprehend How infinite the interspace between The Fount of All Things, and that glimmering spark. Thou callest Mind ; and I will show to thee 3 A path, whereby the promised Light beyond May be attain! d in fuller radiancy. Than thou hast ^en the power to conceive ; MATTER. 39 IVM JReason, satisfied to fullest sense, My faithful servitor, as was to be, »s And not perverted to mine enemy." In reverence ineffable, I gaz'd. The scales fell from my eyes. I toot the Hand And mounted, how I know not, swift as thought, To empyrean heights ; beyond the scope 3so Of that poor, arrogant philosophy. Which, boasting all things, treacherously fail'd, And left me helpless, stranded on the brink Of that dread precipice. My friend, methinks. In such sore need, on all must be bestow'd sss A like apportionment of grace ; for Love Can have no bounds, if Infinite, nor make Distinctive difference — unless constrain'd By Wisdom, also Infinite, whose view, Eternity transcending, is to us 36» Inscrutable. And yet how few take heed ! Maybe, they do not see, maybe they scorn The proffer of that Helping Hand, Divine, Or steadfast to the last in their sad faith 40 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Deem it the outcome of a weaken'd brain, 365 A mere subjective figment, thing of nought. Be how it may, the issue is assur'd, That most go over ; some to sudden death ; / And happy they, compared with those, who live Like vegetables without aim or sense, s?" Existing only in the consciousness. That so-called life is really death in life, Intolerable for a moment's span. Did not their only channel of escape Mean death — annihilation absolute — 37s Where e'en that mournful spark, they now possess Goes under. Few there are, 'tis true, so Strong, So self-reliant, vertebrate, serene. So unaffected by the giddy height, That they experience no sense of fear, 380 But calmly take a survey of the rock, And note, with practised eye, if possible To make descent ; and if discern'd, with ease, Without precipitation, and with care, Noting the several footsteps, one by one, sss And ne'er progressing on, until assur'd MATTER. 41 The foothold in advance, they nimbly climb The scarped face; and striking at length a path, Move on to peaceful groves ; where solemn shades, Deep-bower'd springs, and restful solitudes 39» Invite a corresponding frame of mind. 'Tis there, my friend, I venture to opine, 'Midst that proud, autocratic Court of Mind, Where highest philosophic thought holds sway. Uninfluenced by passion, caring nought 39^ For sentimental promptings of the heart. For yearnings, half express'd, yet undefin'd. For cravings, such as move the multitude To cast off self-reliance, and to turn To That they 'feel instinctively exists, 400 Believe with fullest strength of faculty, Yet dare not state they know — 'tis there, my friend, Wilt thou, retiring from the strife, repose. To thee I've shown, where Spirit may be found. Consistently with Reason, unimpair'd ; 403 And though it hath thy luke-warm sympathy. Thy mental attitude doth not permit. That thou should'st give it reverent. assent. 42 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. So let it be ! I am content to know, That thy sole aim is striving after Truth ! But could I once but think, that thine attempt Might ultimately bring thee to the state Of those poor things who writhe below the brink, Hating to live, and yet afraid to die, I'd stifle Reason, God's most precious gift. And, prostrate on the ground, would supplicate — As though the purest utterance of man Could move the fix'd, undeviating course Of His Design — that ^He might show me grace, And strike thee dead ! YOU AND I. 43 YOU AND I. Like the mountain-mist arising, From the vales below, Wrapping all the world in cloud-land, Coverlet of woe, Fell actoss our lives a blight. Changing sunshine into night, Making wrong appear as right ; — And we would not see the light. You and I ! 'Twas but a slight misunderstanding, Easy to disperse. Had we not taken up a bearing. Foolishly perverse. Oh ! why can never hearts refrain. From causing those, they love, the pain Of thinking, that they love in vain ? — By doing so, what did we gain. You and I ? 44 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. THE SUN. When all aglare with dancing light, The world becomes a thing of pain, So exquisite, that throbbing brain No longer can sustain the fight, Then, oh ! then, I hate thee. Sun ! In latitudes, where cooler breeze Breaks on the brow, across the path, Bestrewn with snow, and on the hearth The crackling yule-logs snort and sneeze, Then, oh ! then, I love thee, Sun ! And yet thou know'st no change above ; 'Tis I, the earth-worm, here, who see A break in thine eternity ; Great Source of Life, or hate, or love, With awe, I ever view thee. Sun ! CHANGE. 45 CHANGE. Look where one may, Around one, 'neath the northern skies, Where man, pre-eminent, holds sway, Or scan the lonely islets of the southern range. The same applies. At all times, and in every place, unceasing change. The old give way. And new formations take their place, Only themselves to live a day. And then to follow in the footsteps, gone before ; And so, the race Floats onward, ever onward, to the unknown shore. As spring arrives, The buds burst open on the trees. And leaves commence their tender lives. Evolving to maturity, through summer's heat ; But autumn's breeze Blows cold, and casts them down beneath the passing feet. 46 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. But yesterday, Possess'd of human attribute, And lo ! a pallid corpse, to-day ; With living consciousness from hallow'd brain outcast. And lying mute, The tongue, that spake the garner'd wisdom of the past. So shall it be, With both of us, ere long, my friend ; Obedient to the stern decree. Contributory atoms to the general state. Shall we both lend, With no security, beyond our trust in Fate ! WAITING. 47 WAITING. Once we were children, happy and gay ; Now we are old, with heads turning grey ; And still we are waiting, Wearily waiting ! Waiting for what?— Ah ! no one can say ! Day succeeds night, and night follows day, Quickly the moments are passing away ; And still we are waiting, Wearily waiting ! Waiting for what ? — Ah ! no one can say ! Long have we combated 'midst the wild fray, Scorning the present — yet hoping alway ; And still we are waiting, Wearily waiting ! Waiting for what ? — Ah ! no one can say ! 48 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Years only lengthen the bitter array Of sorrow, and sadness, and sick'ning delay ; And still we are waiting, Wearily waiting ! What are we waiting for ? — Can no one say ? SEPARATION. 49 SEPARATION. Clash out, ye bells, from every steeple high. Let all the Uving earth resound with song, From every quarter raise the joyous cry. Re-echoing around to meet the sky, And ever growing strong ! For heart and mind in sympathy are wed. And all the world to me is rosy red, Since I have found a true, true friend, And Love will reign, and have no end Till one of us be dead ! Toll out, ye bells, from every steeple high, Let all the living earth dissolve in tears. From every quarter, raise the piteous cry. Re-echoing around to meet the sky. And growing wide with years ! For sympathy from heart and mind hath fled, And over all the world a pall is spread. Since I have lost a true, true friend. Though Love will reign and have no end, Till both of us be dead ! so OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Be silent, bells, in every steeple high. Let all the living earth sink down in peace, Let every quarter hold from making cry, Disturbing to the azure-vaulted sky, Let every whisper cease ! For heart and mind on memories are fed. And all the world to me is tinged with red, Since I possess a true, true friend. And Love will reign, and have no end, E'en both of us be dead ! A THEISTIC HYMN. 51 A THEISTIC HYMN. Oh ! God, my Father, Holy One, For recompense I do not sue ; I love Thee for Thyself alone, I love Thee true. For me, there is no fear in death, My trust in Thee demands no test ; I know that with my last-drawn breath I shall find rest. What that may be, I cannot guess, I do not even know its kind, For in Thy Wisdom, I possess A finite mind. Surrounded by uncertain hght, I dare not e'en attempt surmise, Concerning what is hid from sight Of human eyes. 52 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Since this is so, by Thy Decree, 'Twere idle for me to despond. For 'tis Thy Will I should not see, What lies beyond. And so 'tis foolish to opine, To dogmatise, to strive to see ; To such weak hearts, a love like mine Can never be. For it allows no room for doubt, Nor egotistical refrains ; All sordid feelings are thrust out, And love remains. Which is itself its own reward, A recompense beyond compare. If I may always love Thee, Lord, I have no care. My future is at Thy Command, As is my present, so my past. Oh ! let me feel Thy Helping Hand Until the last ! MADELEINE. 53 MADELEINE. Oh ! sweet, my Madeleine, Magnificently fair. There lies a golden vein Of sunshine in thine hair, Sparkling in the summer light Like some tangled skein Of fairy- woven silken thread. Clinging softly to thine head. Ever shining clear and bright. Saucy Madeleine ! Art thou never seized with sadness, Laughing fairy-sprite ? Doth thine heart's o'erflowing gladness Linger through the night ? Or falls on thee a sudden blight With daylight on the wane, Dispersing all thy fun in flight, And making thee a common wight, Shapely Madeleine ! 54 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Dost thou never feel despair Heart-breaking in intensity ? Is everything to thee so fair, Amidst the wide immensity Of ever changing human life Through which thy footsteps tread, Apparently without a thought Of sadness in thy head ? Oh ! Madeleine ! my Madeleine ! My little, child-like Madeleine ! I hear a voice within me cry. All those that live, must surely die, And with them thee, my Madeleine ! How wonder, when I gaze on thee, — Incurring rightly at thine hands The softest of all reprimands — My thoughts in cloudland seem to be ! PESSIMISM. 55 PESSIMISM. Of what avail is fame, renown, The searching after high degree. Or health, or wealth, or smile, or frown ? In fifty years, where shall we be ? Beneath the sod, the food of worms, In place of eyes, two gaping rings. Exuding from our flesh the germs Of other evanescent things ! Ah ! Where's the use ? Of what avail Is this ne'er-ending pantomime. Where all perform, yet all bewail The pointless bathos of the rhyme ? 56 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. TARES. Oh ! thonghtless boy, a time will be When thou wilt rue thy heedless course, When thou, a prey to heart's remorse, Wilt know of pain a like degree. As she now knows, who worships thee. Thou thinkest it a hateful wrong. With consciousness of virile down. To be attach'd to woman's gown. A day will come, when thou wilt long To feel again that tender thong. To hear again that gentle tone, Rais'd in reproof, so sadly sweet, With tear-stained eye, and quivering beat Of heart, all loving, yet alone. Resolving slowly into stone. TARES. 57 Thy doing— only thine ! And she, The one, who'd gladly suffer pain To give to thee new life again, Whose only fault, if fault it be. Hath been to waste such love on thee. Who, since thy birth, hath had no care, For aught, decentred from thy good. Who — speak it softly ! — hath in food Denied herself, her aim to spare. So as to give thee fuller share. Can human pathos deeper go Than this ? And yet, to thee 'tis nought. So blinded thou to every thought. Beyond the narrow, selfish flow Of thine own pleasure — her own woe ! Ay, truly, 'tis a glorious thing, To know thyself a man, to feel The self-reliant current steal Throughout the flesh, and upward spring, Changing the peasant to a king. 58 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. But kings may fall, and kings may reign ! Of manly spirit, 'tis no part, To break, e'en thoughtlessly, the heart Of her, who gave thee life in pain. Such is the true-born coward's stain ! Awake ! the precious moments fly. But still, there's time, when true regret May help thee partly to forget. The day is surely drawing nigh. When thou wilt vainly call on high. When pain, than hers, will e'en be worse. Repentance taken at the flood Can solace bring ; but tears of blood Will ne'er awake the sleeping corse. Nor give relief to life's remorse ! LOVE. 59 LOVE. I KNOW no joy so great as love return'd, The subtle sympathy of souls akin, With speech superfluous, so strong the sense, That concord dwells within. I know no pain so keen, as passion spurn'd, The maddening torment, of a brain on fire, With reason prostrate, and the hallow'd brain A prey to sick desire. And yet — though seeming real — both joy and pain, Are mere subjective figments of a mind. Wherein imagination holds such sway. That sense to truth is blind. 6o OUT OF THE DEPTHS. MAGNETISM. How sweet was life ! How calm the elliptic course, Where e'en the sorrows were but covert joys, Till thou, disturbing comet, brought thy force. To shake my equipoise ! Till thou, unheralded, from depths of space Bore down with mighty rush, a thing of pain, Convulsing nature with that wondrous face, And vanishing again. Unmindful of a consequence, so dire — That where stability and peace did dwell. Now plung'd a writhing body 'neath the fire Of thine electric spell. Oh ! Time, I look to thee to dry these tears ! 'Tis thou, alone, can'st stifle this regret ! Roll on slow months, extending quick to years, And teach me to forget ! MAGNETISM. 6i Oh ! better 'twere, that I had never known thee, Than to suffer thus ! Oh ! better 'twere that thou had'st never shown me. What love were to us ! Since thou cam'st only to deceive me, Steal my heart, and then to leave me ! 62 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. TO A LADY. Sweet youth, allied to every vice, 'Tis pitiable to see ! Go, robe thyself for sacrifice ! My bosom bleeds for thee. The time is past for wild regret, 'Tis futile now to sigh. Thy life's fair sun is almost set. Thy day of doom is nigh. For long, I've urged thee to comply With my heart-sore behest ; And thou hast wept, and made reply That all was for the best. That all around thee used thee ill, Was vain for thee to say. Would not a little strength of will Have gain'd for thee the day ? TO A LADY. 63 Dost thou not see, that by this vow, Which binds thee to his name, The martyr-crown which bless'd thy brow Will be replaced by shame ? All pitied thee thy lot before, And pity thou did'st need ; But henceforth none can pity more, For thou hast done the deed. Arise, and humbly Meet thy fate. Which nought can e'er refine ; Embrace the heartless reprobate, Whose life is henceforth thine ! Ah ! plain I see the coffin's nail Within the bridal wreath ; To me, there is no wedding- veil, It is the shroud of death ! 64 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. THE FALL OF MAN. I. Time was, in those dark ages, when the earth First, phoenix-like, took wings from off the pyre. Where smoulder'd Pagan Rome — a wondrous birth. To which we owe that ever-glowing fire, That brought us out the pit, and still leads higher- Time was, when all men gloried to believe That old-world legend of the Fall of Eve. Not allegorical disguise, but fact Was then accredited to that sweet tale ; No fable there, but the whole written act Was verbally correct, which to assail No man conceiv'd, who lived within the pale ; The tempting serpent, with the human tongue, The Tree of Knowledge, where the Apple hung. THE FALL OF MAN. 6; The yielding Mother by the snake advised ; The no less erring Father, who gave in, Without one word protesting, and devised, In that dread moment, to all kith and kin. The long, unbroken heritage of sin ; The sudden consciousness of shame, the fear, When holy footsteps broke upon their ear. The Voice, that spake that most satanic curse. Embracing one and all that cross'd the sight. The snake, the woman, and the man, and worse. The very ground, but now emerging bright From the chaotic darkness of the night ; The woman, to a multiple of pain ; The man, to toil for ever without gain. Eternal curse, through ages yet unknown, Still grimly rolling on in sullen flood ; The world once more in outer darkness thrown. Rejected by the God, who'd deem'd it good-^ A plaything, cast aside in anger'd mood — Because the human puppets, He had made. The dictates of their natural selves obey'd. 66 our OF THE DEPTHS. And that strange communing, wherein the Lord Makes self-confession, that the puppet race Had need of Cherubim, with flaming sword, Upon the eastern gates to take their place, To keep it from usurping god-like grace ; Makes self-confession, that the puppet man, In rising from the beast, had foil'd His plan. Aye, every syllable received assent. None doubting a significance so clear, Divested of all figurative intent, And meaning only what the ancient seer Had caus'd upon the surface to appear ; No subtleties, obscure, conceal'd from sight, But truth, eternal truth, in black and white. Still saturated, 'neath tradition's bane. With poison'd superstitions of a day, Not yet bygone, though little did remain Of that vast, mythological array, What wonder, that their fancy ran astray ! Since ignorance credulity must breed. Eternal law, no matter what the creed. THE FALL OF MAN. 67 And so the solemn centuries roU'd by, Indifferent to the circumstance of man, The ebb and flow of human destiny, With mightiest of empires in the tan, And Fate, with thumb downstretch'd to fullest span ; Indifferent to the silent change, that leas'd The ornaments of Nero to a priest. Oh ! Tiber, hast thou in thy wondrous womb. Yet further prodigies of princely pride ? Before thy last-born lies within the tomb. Will yet another rise, and roughshod ride Across the western races, far and wide ? Twice hast thou to an empire given birth. That ruled for centuries the cultured earth ! II. The race sunk down in slaver)', more deep. Than thousand years afore, since now the souls, Were with the bodies in a tyrant's keep. Each century, a gruesome tale unrolls Of triumph over sense by mystic stoles ; Till blindfold Reason, clamouring to see. Burst through the bonds, and set the conscience free. 68 O0T OF THE DEPTHS. I In olden days, from Northern Sea did come The shock, that hurl'd the mighty empire down, That humbled in the dust Imperial Rome, i Reducing it to a provincial town, And placed on a Barbarian's brow the crown ; And, freak of fate, once more the self-same race Now shook the purple structure to its base. Oh ! glorious rise to freedom, grand dissent ; Than thine, no deed hath ever been more fraught With fateful consequence to man, who rent Thereby the slavish cords in twain, and taught The right of man to individual thought ; The right the granary's contents to sift. To use, and not misuse, God's precious gift ! From that great moment, Reason was applied — Though not to full extent — to guide the mind. With the result, that superstition died — At least that gross, anthropomorphic kind. Which worshipped relics of bygone mankind ; Which asked for flesh as sacramental food. And turn'd an earthly vintage into blood. THE FALL OF MAN. 69 And so to purer gaze the written past Was subjected, and Reason brought to bear To make distinction 'midst that treasure vast, 'Twixt figurative intent, and meaning clear, What struck as truth, or symbol on the ear ; Refusing to accept, as gold, the ore. Till analysed by experts to the core. And thus, the old-world legend of the Fall Came under scrutiny again, and fail'd The crucial test ; for it might well appal The anxious faculties of man, which rail'd At pagan parables, to find assail'd In so direct a way, in words so clear, The justice of a God, to them so dear. No longer literal truth to it ascribed. As allegory was the tale receiv'd, Where emblematically was described The birth of pain and sin, which men believ'd To be the outcome of a God, aggriev'd ; A God, so anger'd with a fallen race. That He withdrew from them protective grace. 70 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. For how to solve a mystery so deep, The presence of predominating pain Amongst a helpless race in God's own keep, Who, though they strive, and ever strive again, To ease them of their burden, ne'er attain ; A God of pity, merciful and wise, Who could, were He so will'd, the whole revise ! Or greater mystery still, how to explain The presence — nay, ascendancy of sin, Which stalks aggressively across the main And, wheresoe'er it pleaseth, doth begin To draw its myriad votaries within The fell, magnetic charm of its embrace. When God, were He so will'd, could sin efface ! God made the world, and saw that it was good, But sin to His account could not be laid ; From which mankind deduced in thoughtful mood, That sin in aftertime an entrance made, Resulting from a fallen angel's raid ; And thus, that men relaps'd from higher state, Omnipotence outflank'd by Satan's hate. THE FALL OF MAN. 71 From higher state of perfect rectitude, Wherein no sin, nor breath of sin had place. Where man and woman walk'd together nude, Unconscious of all shame, a sense so base, Impossible to such a god-like race ; A species, ignorant of all things foul. In God's own image, and with God's own soul. 5 Aye ! such, in fact, did reverent men believe, A race of God's own choosing, perfect man, The thought of sin, unable to conceive. Who, notwithstanding, foil'd the holy plan. And thereby placed the species under ban, To toil and die in pain, to live in hell. Till Christ came down amidst the race to dwell. Oh ! strange belief ! Oh ! curious twist of mind, That brought a thinking race to such a strait. That they to consequence were wholly blind, And could without compunction demonstrate. The God of Love, to be a god of hate ; A structure, monstrous to the sense erect. And ne'er their primal premiss once suspect ! 72 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. To US, the latest outcome of that force, Which slowly causes all things to expand, , Evolving mind and matter in due course, Unfathom'd oceans, changing into land, With ape attesting philosophic brand. To us, the latest product of the years. Such attitude, incredible appears. And yet, in spirit humble, not contempt, We scrutinise the errors, gone before. Analogy declining to exempt Ourselves from equal error, even more. Since we possess accumulated lore. The wisdom gather'd, as the years advance. The worth of which, past errors but enhance. Aye, as we judge, so shall we, too, be judged, By generations in the womb of time ; A chary recognition may be grudged Perhaps, by them, our efforts most sublime. The trains of thought, we think have reach'd their prime ; For where all things evolve by slow degree. Finality in thought can never be. THE FALL OF MAN. 73 And yet, some unknown instinct goads us on, To give the understanding fullest play. To struggle after truths, and, victory won. To step by step move forward on our way And journey through the night, to meet the day ; Despite the knowledge, that our highest flight, Is but a rudimentary gleam of light. Uprise, ye zealous workers, line on line, Stupendous effort make the truth to gain, Fulfil to utmost limit God's Design, And have no fear, by falling midst the slain. Lest you may sacrifice your lives in vain ; For though the keep your onslaught will resist. Some stone may be detach' d, if you persist ! III. The human race ne'er fell from higher state ; Mankind was ne'er created perfect man ; The laws of evolution demonstrate. To certainty, that the Almighty's Plan Could ne'er have been to end, where it began ; All things move onward, upward to a goal Disclos'd alone to the Eternal Soul. 74 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. For though the race be now so far evolv'd, To dare assay the Plan in searching fires, Dissect, and analyse, and deem it solv'd When God some further gleam of light inspires. We still are nought but puppets, tied to wires. We criticise, but still we surely wend Our way, despite ourselves, to that great End. 'Tis Nature's law, that race should prey on race ; From lowest form of vegetable life. To highest form of man, in every place. The same applies, a never-ending strife. Existence e'en dependent on the knife ; A law, undeviating as the course Made by this planet-world around its Source. For life, as we conceive it, could not be. Save these conditions held imperious sway ; With space confin'd, impossible to see. How species could exist, except by prey. Indeed, life could not live in other way ; If plants drop seeds within a tiny place, ' 'Tis evident, that some must some efface. THE FALL OF MAN. 75 And thus it comes, the fittest do survive, The weaklings passing under out of sight, Not strong enough to keep themselves alive, Or not adapted to sustain the fight, Where Fate had rear'd them, in the dawn of light ; And so, as countless centuries roll by. All things evolve from lower state to high. 'Tis tantamount, in fact, to process seen, Where goods are sampled by successive test, Each generation's handicraft to wean All things not up to standard from the rest. And so in course of time attain the best ; For thus, unconsciously are we refined By the directing force of God's own Mind. Not uniform, perhaps, the slow advance ; And even, to our own defective ken. Which only takes an egotistic glance. Embracing the review of modern men, A retrogressive movement, now and then ; But wearied waves, that down the fore-shore glide, Do not affect the volume of the tide. 76 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. And this, then, being the eternal law, Were e'en it possible, which it were not, Since schemes, which are complete, admit no flaw, Can man be disconnected from the lot Of living things — a solitary blot Upon the fairness of a perfect scheme. Midst which, no rival near, he stands supreme ? Impossible conception to an age. Where Reason paramount hath taught the need Of measuring by scientific gauge. And not by the requirements of a creed ! Impossible conclusion to concede, That man, alone, the summit of the vane, Must take his place on a degraded plane ! Avaunt the thought ! Mankind has right to claim An- equal recognition of its worth ; No false appraisement, neither mend, nor maim, But an exact presentment of its birth From other things to highest state on earth ; Directed thence, by God's Almighty Power, From what we know not— but we know 'twas lower. THE FALL OF MAN. 77 E'en now, with evolution on the flood, The race, call'd man, can still be found so low. That nought of man exists, save flesh and blood ; A human beast, with Patagonian brow, Who reasons with the instincts of the sow ; And yet, a period was, when humankind Had for its crown of crowns a Dyak mind. With this in view, 'tis not too great a stretch. To contemplate a still remoter date. Where one would find the semi-human wretch. Not recognized by Dyak as a mate. The highest growth again of human state ; And so, continuing the process down. The human race is merged in worlds unknown. But now reverse the line of thought ; conceive The species, destined to be man, so base. That difficult distinction to perceive, 'Twixt them and those, whose bodies do encase The germs, which will evolve to higher race, Through countless centuries, and take the shape Of present-day varieties of ape. 78 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Conceive it thus, a species, wild and rude. With Reason's crowning hght not yet endow'd ; Save hirsute covering, completely nude, With form at times erect, at others bow'd On all-fours searching after food, and loud The screechings, as they scamper off afeard, — _ " Half-human,'' we'd have said, had we but heard. Conceive it thus, yet slowly moving on, As season after season roll'd around ; The father, traits transmitting to the son, Expanding in the process, gaining ground, Till ultimately new-born growths are found. As firmly planted, as had been the germ. In bygone days, before it ran its term. Conceive it thus, progressing slow, but sure, Evolving ever upwards, grade by grade, From simple into complex, foul to pure. While inarticulate expressions fade. And human speech finds echo in the glade ; An unknown sound, productive of dismay, As heralding the dawn of human sway. THE FALL OF MAN. 79 Conceive it thus, and trace its upward rise From animal proclivity to man, Not as we know him now, but as surmise Presents hiiii to our fancy, in the van Of human progress, as it first began. Conceive it thus, and think what must have been. Of step by step, the greatest that was seen. The step, that first produced bi-pedic gait. Upraising abject race off hands and knees ? Or that, which made the tongue articulate. In chosen terms of speech, did it so please ? Or that which clothed the flesh ? — No, none of these ! The greatest rise, that ever man did span, Was that, which man still calls, " The Fall of Man." A paradox is this, but true in fact ; No subtle jugglery of well-known words : " The Fall of Man '' was the stupendous act, That rais'd him from the level of the herds. The beasts of prey, the reptiles, and the birds ; Before sin came, propelling him along. Like them was he, unconscious of all wrong. 8o OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Unconscious, mark you — only that, no more ; Not/ree from wrong, as wrong to us is known, But perpetrating daily crimes of gore, Whose heinous nature, part and parcel grown Of his degraded self, reveal'd his own ; Nor moral, nor immoral, but a state, Un-mora}, we may aptly designate. Unmoral — knowing nought of right or wrong, Possess'd of neither virtue nor reverse, A creature, taking class, where beasts belong. Not under ban of most satanic curse, But living just their natural selves — no worse ; Incapable of sin, or moral flaws, Incapable of good, from self-same cause. And yet, though they as near resemblance bore To those around, as human sight could find, A glorious destiny, for them in store, Lay quickening within the Cosmic Mind, Incognisable to encaged mankind ; A destiny, which even now men fail To comprehend, through the obscuring veil. THE FALL OF MAN. Aye, glorious indeed, since it design'd,' To raise from foulest depth to purest tone A crawling race, to deify with mind, And there a spiritual sense enthrone. Sublime vicegerent of the Great Unknown ; Accredited with warrant to unroll A world of wondrous sweep on wings of soul. Yet how effect so radical a change ! How were it possible to bring to pass An evolution of such boundless range. Transcending e'en what turn'd a molten mass To verdur'd mountains, and to vales of grass ; How were it possible to frame the plan. Without the consciousness of sin in man ? Impossible conceit ! So God made sin, Evolving human mind to such a height. That new-born consciousness awoke within. Begetting by degrees a new-born light. The primal difference 'twixt wrong and right. The power to discern ; the moral sense. With its potentialities immense. 82 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Aye, God made sin, as also God made good, Correlatives, twin-born, at self-same birth ; The self-same consciousness, misunderstood For ages long by those who ruled the earth. Gave rise to both, pronouncing on their worth ; Dyadic growth, inseparably conjoined ; The head and the reverse, together coined. Aye, God made sin — no blasphemy is this ; On Him, and Him alone, the burden lies. That moral evil in existence is. Amongst the race, so honour'd in His eyes. That it dare e'en attempt to pierce the skies ; To probe the mysteries, in Him involv'd, And recognise no rest, till they be solv'd. Aye, God made sin, in that He brought the race, To consciousness supreme, whereby to see That sin were possible, an occult grace By means of which, the will, emerging free, Proclaim'd mankind no mere machine to be. Attached to crank and shaft by driving-band. But thing of complex thought, with self-command ; THE FALL OF MAN. 83 With self-command ; with power to discern The right from wrong ; and power to control The erring sense of flesh at every turn ; Evolving by degrees the sense of soul, And soaring upwards, as the ages roll ; Aye, such were the accounts, that Sin could tell, And, such was the descent, to which man fell. Oh ! race, uprising out that unknown deep, Oh ! thou of little courage, how so blind, That thou dar'st not essay to take the leap, The crumbling wall invites, where lies confin'd, Enswathed in ignorance, the hallow'd mind ! No frowning battlements confront the eye ; A rescue is assur'd to those, who try. Cast off the cobwebs, that encase the brain. The patriarchal principles instilled By superstitious age, and feel no pain In bidding them farewell, since it be will'd That things should have no use, their use fulfilled ; As lily, blossoming from out the mire Discards the clinging soil, as it mounts higher. 84 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Just as the woman from the burning town Cast back regretful glances, and was slain ; So must it be with thee, with eyes cast down Upon the past, that ne'er can live again In bygone form 'neath evolution's strain ; Inanimate, as she, wilt thou become. An useless thing of nought — a cypher sum. Arise ! Strike out the road, that leads to truth. Move onward, ever onward, through the night. And unto all, who move, a wondrous ruth Evince, no matter where or what the light, That guides them forward, if it guides them right ; And that must needs be right, which doth not sin Against mankind without, or man within. Look upward, and drink in the morning sun, Each ray of glory from the cosmic sheaf ; What matter it, the night, whose course is run. Hath solaced thee, and given thee relief, A new dawn breaketh, and a new belief ; The past hath gone, its day for ever flown. And worlds are rolling on to worlds unknown ! FRIENDSHIP. 85 FRIENDSHIP. Oh ! once my well-loved friend, When musing o'er sweet memories bygone, Which must pervade at times the inward soul, No matter what the mood predominant — Dost thou recall that name, to thee so dear s In palmy days of blithesome bachelorhood, Before thou, turning traitor, left our camp Of celibates, and joined the shameless foe ; There to remain, with no more sense of wrong. Than hadst thou merely toss'd the ruby glass » To peerless woman, in postprandial fun ; Foreknowing its reception at our hands. And secretly enjoying ? More than this, Doth not one struggling gleam, one conscience-prick. Awake in thee remembrance of a bond, «; We called — so innocent is youth, so sweet. So full of trust, ingenuous, so blind To the inevitable change, that time 86 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Effects on all, so thoroughly convinced, That as the present, so must be the past — «> A Solemn Covenant — ye gods ! — a phrase, Designed on such account to rouse thy mirth To loud, and e'en undignified guffaws ! A Solemn Covenant, forsooth — and yet, Methinks, if I remember well, 'twas made =5 In all good faith on both sides, and am sure 'Twas made on one. Ah ! we were young indeed. Though I, 'tis true, had known the sense of life One lustrum longer, which was tantamount, So chick-like was our gaze, so short our view, 30 To deeming I possess'd full attribute Of patriarchal sage ; when every thought Proclaim'd aloud the melancholy truth Though we, ourselves, were deaf to every sound. That I, with budding reason, had e'en lost 35 The rudimental instincts of the child ; That I resembled more some floating spar. Than holdfast driven deep, as thou didst think, Within the adamantine foreshore-rock Of Knowledge. What a sweep of years hath pass'd, to FRIENDSHIP. &7 Since utter'd, an eternity of time, Enough to scatter broadcast to the winds A score of Solemn Covenants, so call'd ; Or speaking to a mere exact degree, Precise as logarithmic scientist, 4s Just four whole years, and five-and-twenty days, No more, no less — stupendous Time-assault, How wonder that it failed ! But with what scorn, And finely cast derision of the soul. The inmost soul, would we in those dead days so Have met the charge, had one been rash enough To venture on prediction, to affirm That as has happened now, must be the end. How mocking would have rung the laugh, and great The strength, engender'd by the secret sense ss Of hearths affinity ; and with what aim, Would we have hurled the contumelious lie Back to the giver, caring aught for none Save one another — just ourselves — the rest Of humankind in limbo — which is proof «■> Decisive of our callous state of mind. Despite our years. ; OUT OF THE DEPTHS. So much has happen'd since, I find myself in wonder, if 'twere not A dream, a pleasant figment of the brain, A sweet impression, such as oft remains In waking moments, after peaceful sleep ; When mind, refresh'd by undisturb'd repose. Recalls the fleeting fancies of the night, So clearly mark'd with incident minute, And light and shade defin'd to such degree Of absolute exactitude, that doubt Steps in, and lingering on, expands. Until its own identity is lost, And merged in what is almost certainty. That Fancy, playing traitor, had with skill Usurp'd the throne of Fact. Around me now. Without much spinal effort, I perceive Presentments of thy face, in number three ; The one in profile grave, the other two In cricketing costume, with half-form'd smile, Betok'ning ease and strength, as doth befit A votary of sport. There have they stood. For full four years or more, since that red date. When we in all Solemnity clasp'd hands, FRIENDSHIP. 89 And swore eternal Covenant of trust, ss Of love, and faith, and heart's fidelity ; Eternal as the firmament, as sure As Earth's elliptic course around the sun. There have they stood, companions in my toil. Partakers of my leisur'd ease, fast friends, 90 Whose presence hath beguiled me many a time. When all the world grew dark ; whose sympathy Hath never fail'd — no matter what the weight Of care upon my brow — to flood the soul With sunshine of content. There have they stood, 95 And there they must remain, whate'er I will. Though their original significance Be lost, though they be merely symbols dead Of something gone before, though they have now No deeper value, than some colour'd card ; ■ >«> For habit is a master, whose decree Inexorable gives the slave no choice ; Whose autocratic word is paramount ; Who binds the cords of custom in such wise, That strength of will is powerless to strive "s Against such complex knot. They must remain ; As soon pluck out the heart, and think to live. 90 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. As cast away so integral a part Of my well-being. Never a day hath pass'd, Without my gazing on those lineaments, Unconsciously maybe — for there they stand — As one, who rapt in purest ecstacy, While gazing upward at the azure sky. All fleck'd with skimming cloud, and fulgent haze, Sees nothing save his own subjective thought, Yet indirectly influenced by that, His eye rejects. I wonder, if the same Hath been my fate with thee, or if not e'en A counterfeit presentment now survives To tell you that I lived, to shew to thee. That once I were thy friend. — How truly quaint, To find myself in academic mood Transcribing such a thought, with Covenant Of great Solemnity not five years old ! How passing strange ! 'Tis curious to note This stealthy, subtle influence of Time On our affections. As some tiny stream. In course of ages, cleaves the solid rock, FRIENDSHIP. 91 And forms a yawning chasm, wide and deep, 'Twixt twin-begotten mountain peaks, allied 13° Since cosmic birth ; so works relentless. Time On human hearts. So gradual is the change, So imperceptible, that on the mind • Of man, it makes no mark. Day follows day, Presenting it to outward view the same, 135 Disintegration's silent course, too slow, To fix the human eye. Not e'en the range Of deepening shadow is perceiv'd, not e'en The widening rift ; though swelling stream Grows ever broad and strong, with cataracts r4o In miniature, and headlong pace. Thus on. Till comes a day, when memory aroused. Perchance objectively, maybe through force Of psychic current, origin unknown. The veil, obscuring truth, is torn aside ; ms And in a trice, the fact, so long conceal'd. Lies nakedly expos'd ; and then — surprise. Long-drawn, incredulous, amaz'd surprise. And oftentimes dismay ! So has it been, m? My once loved friend, with me. For years I've dwelt. 92 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. In musing, meditative, tender mood Upon our friendship ; caring nought for Time, Nor its encroachments ; seeing nought of change. Advancing steadily by steps and strides, And leading to estrangement. Like to one. Who looks with rapt attention at some thing. So fixedly, that brain becomes benumbed. And fails to note the thing removed, but sees It still, materially the same, when, lo. The thing no longer is — so hath my gaze Upon our friendship been deceiv'd. To me. It seemed the same, as it had ever been Since first evolv'd — an actuality, Assur'd by heart's conviction, and endors'd By mind, without one single glance bestow'd Upon the warranty, the drawer's name Sufficient in itself, as guarantee : When all along, the substance starved to death By cold neglect, had slowly passed away So utterly, that not e'en shell remain'd To shew that it had been — a sepulchre, Unblest, devoid of hatchment or of stone, Unknown, unkempt, with tutelary imp FRIENDSHIP. 93 In charge — phantasmic figment of the brain, In masquerading garb of what had died, 175 So like, so strangely like, that sense at fault Was cozened by the sham, and deem'd it real. , My friend — so habit clings-^with wider sense, The product of experience and years, 'Tis no great feat to accurately dissect iso The cause of our estrangement. Natural Law- Must have its way, in spite of human Will. The Laws remain eternal, and to hope For deviation from their natural course Is folly. Miracles have disappear'd, iss Since Science took the field, and step by step. Advanced in irresistible array Along the winding, uphill path, that leads To Knowledge. And 'tis one of Nature's laws. That human Love can no more think to live 190 On air, than human body. In each case, The thing must die, unless. sustain'd by food. The heart, though more enduring than the flesh Maybe, cannot survive the cold neglect Of Time ; and when the treatment, meted out, >« 94 OUT OF THE DEPTHS. Is tantamount — 'tis truth, I merely state — To absolute starvation, not one crumb Of nutriment receiv'd from either side For years, annihilation, slow but sure. Must certainly set in. So has it been : With us, and if regret expends itself. Now all is gone, lamenting that a state So pitiable should be the one result Of Covenant, conceiv'd in circumstance Of such unparalleled Solemnity, There still remains to philosophic mind A source, whence comfort may be found — a source, Sufficient surely to console — the thought — The blessfed thought — we have ourselves to blame. Ourselves alone ! THE END. BALLANTYNE PRESS PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE, HANSON AND CO. EDINBURGH AND LONDON n ^^yi^&^:y;m 'r£?;.