4^8 T 
 iU3X, 
 
 ^ 
 
 X YZ 
 
 AND 
 
 dthcr S'octns 
 
__ ^ Corneir University Ubrary 
 
 PR 4878.L19X2 
 
 X.Y.Z., and other poems. 
 
 3 1924 013 496 314 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tiiis 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/cu31924013496314 
 
® 
 
 AND 
 
 Other Poems 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN LASCELLES. 
 
 si^ 
 
 Bi^U Ant bavftne00; <|oot ant ivit; 
 tS^^rou^^ tifi'e ma^te run! 
 On man'e pai^tva^ craivfe t^e eevpeni; 
 ^9inee i^i vising 0un! 
 
 LONDON: PUBLISHED BY 
 
 The Leadenhall Prefe, Ltd : 50, Leadenhall Street, E.C. 
 Simpkin, eSlfarshall, Hamilton, Kent Sf Co., Ltd: 
 
 :t(eu) York : Charles Scriiner's Sons, 153-157, Fifth tAvenue. 
 
THE LEASENHALL FSESS, LTD! LONDON, E,C> 
 (t. 4666) 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 FACE 
 
 X, Y. Z. ... ... I 
 
 Yesterday, To-day, and for Ever ... ... 7 
 
 Semblance and Reality ... ... ... 9 
 
 Doubles and Ghosts ... ... ... 14 
 
 The World and her Lover ... ... ... 20 
 
 Wedded to the World ... ... ... 23 
 
 Life's Enigma ... ... ... ... ... 30 
 
 A Poor Man's Appeal ... ... ... 33 
 
 Babels ... ... ... ... ... 36 
 
 Mother and Children ... ... ... 38 
 
 My Brother Man ... ... ... ... 42 
 
 Time's Winnowing Fan ... ... ... 45 
 
 Time's Immortality ... ... ... ■••49 
 
•X- YZ- 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER POEMS. 
 X. Y. Z. 
 
 A MERRY life on earth, 
 Lived the body of X. Y. Z. ! 
 Fortune, was there at his birth. 
 And she smilingly gave him a boon ; 
 In the shape of a silver spoon ; 
 Which she put in his baby mouth. 
 
 To babies with silver spoons. 
 The world is a lenient nurse ! 
 Idle and vicious poltroons, 
 Who were babies with silver spoons, 
 She flatters, and coaxes to take, 
 Big slices of her plum cake. 
 
( 2 ) 
 
 So plenty of frolic and fun, 
 
 Had the body of X. Y. Z. ! 
 
 What pleased it was sure to be done ; 
 
 Whether pleasure, or pain, 
 
 Whether blessing, or bane, 
 
 It brought to the creatures around. 
 
 One day, a cold blast from the east, 
 Struck the body of X. Y. Z.— 
 High fever set in, and increased 
 Through the night ; and at dawn. 
 His features were anxious and drawn. 
 
 The doctor was sent for — looked grave- 
 It soon became clear, that to save 
 The body of X. Y. Z. ; 
 Or, even to lengthen the span 
 Of its life many days, 
 Was past the power of man. 
 
 His body was nearing its goal — 
 That was clear ; 
 So in fear. 
 
( 3 ) 
 
 He thought of his soul ; 
 
 And sent for the parson to pray. 
 
 The parson came, and X. Y. Z. 
 
 Agreed with all he said — 
 
 Just in the usual way, 
 
 When the parson comes to pray^- 
 
 Just in the usual way. 
 
 The parson prayed, and then. 
 By way of indorsement, " Amen," 
 Said the lips of X. Y. Z. — 
 Just in the usual way, 
 When the parson comes to pray^- 
 Just in the usual way. 
 
 'Jf •(& 5p # 
 
 Up to the gate of Heaven 
 Went the soul of X. Y. Z.— 
 Rank with earthly leaven ; 
 Foul with sensual sin ; 
 It asked to enter in. 
 
 " Why do you want to come here ? " 
 Said Peter, who stood at the gate. 
 
( 4 ) 
 
 " Good saint," said the soul, " it is clear, 
 I henceforth, am destined to dwell. 
 For ever in Heaven, or Hell : — 
 Of Hell, the accounts that I heard, 
 Were always so dismal and sad ; 
 The society so bad ; 
 When I died, I preferred 
 To come up to the saints ; 
 Whose life, every one paints. 
 In colours of sunlight and gold." 
 
 St. Peter looked grave : — 
 
 " You are candid," said he ; 
 
 Said the soul, " It is useless to rave, 
 
 And make sham protestations afresh : — 
 
 All our shams are stripped off with our flesh ! 
 
 " But let me in, Peter, I pray. 
 For Jesu's sake, make no delay ! 
 O God!— close behind — there! — I see 
 The Devil is waiting for me." 
 
 " Did you mention the name 
 Of Jesus ?" St. Peter replied ; 
 
( 5 ) 
 
 " Will you tell me your claim 
 For His help in distress, 
 To save and to bless 
 Your disembodied soul ? " 
 
 " My claim, do you ask me to tell ? " 
 
 Said the soul of X. Y. Z. : 
 
 " I want to keep out of Hell — 
 
 And I never denied, 
 
 That for sinners He died " — 
 
 Said Peter, " Quite true ; 
 
 Condescending too ; 
 
 But that will not do ; 
 
 What did you do for Him?" 
 
 " I always believed He was ready 
 
 To whitewash the lives of men." 
 
 Said Peter, " Come — steady, now — steady ."- 
 
 The Devil remarked, with glee, 
 
 " That was my theology." 
 
 Said Peter, in shutting the gate ; 
 Leaving X, Y. Z. to his fate : 
 
( 6 ) 
 
 " To His servants^ — quite true- 
 Forgiveness is due ; 
 But that will not do — 
 No servant were you — 
 What did you do for Him ? "^ 
 
( 7 ) 
 
 Yesterday, To-day, and for Ever. 
 
 NOTHING of us ever dies ! 
 Our loves ; our hates ; 
 Our laughter ; and our sighs ; 
 Our passing thoughts — 
 Whatever agitates 
 Our hearts and minds ; 
 Leaves on our souls, a trace 
 Indelible, that binds 
 Time to eternity, 
 And earth to Heaven. 
 Death works no magic change. 
 Upon the inner man ! 
 That subtle essence strange — 
 Felt, but unseen, 
 In the almighty plan — 
 
( 8 ) 
 
 Changes its form, 
 
 Its unessential frame, 
 
 As clouds, before the storm, 
 
 Change — but are still the same. 
 
 There is no life to be ; 
 
 But only life that is ; 
 
 Transfigured, and made free, 
 
 In a new world. 
 
 From earthly chains 
 
 And fleshly pains ; 
 
 For evermore. 
 
( 9 ) 
 
 Semblance and Reality. 
 
 Libertine. 
 
 ^ H E soft young moon is high 
 In the still vault of sky ; 
 And here and there, a star, 
 
 From mysteries afar, 
 
 Looks down with tender light. 
 
 Into the dream of night. 
 
 In these sweet garden bowers. 
 
 The scent of summer flowers, 
 
 Lades all the gentle air. 
 
 The world is wide and fair, 
 
 For those who fondly love ; 
 
 Who boldly rise above 
 
 The shams, and hollow forms, 
 
 That vex, and shake with storms, 
 
( lo ) 
 
 And lay, in hopeless dust, 
 Poor hearts, that dare not trust. 
 Come dearest ! — come with me ! 
 We shall be ever free 
 From the vain, fretful strife, 
 That saddens human life. 
 Strong love — -our marriage tie, 
 We can the world defy ! 
 In some sweet home of rest, 
 We shall be ever blest. 
 
 * * « * 
 
 Why do you start, and stare. 
 Into the vacant air ? — 
 What, dearest, see you there ? 
 
 Maiden. 
 
 I see a midnight street, 
 In a strange, murky town ! 
 I hear an outcast's feet. 
 Still pacing up and down ! 
 O God ! — I hear her sigh ! 
 Only a spirit damned — 
 
( II ) 
 
 That would — but cannot die — 
 Could ever heave that sigh ! 
 
 1P ^ ^ Tff 
 
 The vision, from my brain, 
 Has vanished like a dream ; 
 Past is my pang of pain. — 
 I am myself again. 
 
 Libertine. 
 
 Rise doubting thoughts above : 
 Trust dearest — trust my love ! 
 
 Maiden. 
 
 I trust you : for my heart 
 Is yours ; beyond recall : 
 From you I cannot part — 
 For you, I risk my all ! 
 # * * * 
 
 Again I see that street ! 
 Its footfalls now are still : 
 Like a great winding sheet. 
 The snow falls cold and chill : 
 
( 12 ) 
 
 In heavy, drunken sleep, 
 An outcast woman lies : 
 A human rubbish heap !— 
 I hear the angels weep. 
 
 Libertine. 
 
 Come, let us break the spell, 
 That fills your heart with gloom. 
 Oh ! do not longer dwell, 
 On love's sad, living tomb. 
 Come, let us taste of bliss, 
 And dark foreboding thoughts. 
 Will vanish in a kiss. 
 
 Maiden. 
 
 I hear a demon hiss ! 
 
 I see a hideous face ! 
 
 It whispers in your ear ! 
 
 Its strange— malignant — base — 
 
 Demoniacal leer, 
 
 Has made me sick at heart ; 
 
 And frozen all my soul : — 
 
( 13 ) 
 
 You play a puppet's part ! 
 
 Well may I backward start ! — 
 
 The Devil stands behind ! 
 
 Good night ! — good night ! — my— love { 
 
 Libertine. 
 
 ! be not so unkind ! 
 Love can the Devil bind ! 
 Stay dearest ! — stay ! — O ! stay ! 
 
 Maiden. 
 
 Off! — off! — away ! — away ! — 
 
 1 dare not sell — my soul ! 
 
( 14 ) 
 
 Doables and Ghosts. 
 
 DEEPENING shadows have gathered 
 around 
 The bride of a year ago ! 
 
 They strewed her path, with flowers of love ; 
 
 And her face was all aglow, 
 
 With sunbeam smiles, from her sun of hope, 
 
 That shone on her wedding-day : 
 
 She left her home, with a trustful heart ; — 
 
 To the new life went away. 
 
 Her husband was her ideal knight, 
 
 On the day that she was wed ; 
 
 The knight, without fear, without reproach, 
 
 Of whom she had thought and read. 
 
( 15 ) 
 
 The hero of an old romance, 
 To her, he seemed to be, 
 His baser metal turned to gold, 
 By love's strange alchemy. 
 Loving and good ; faithful and true ; 
 Almost, an aureoled saint ; 
 Almost, incarnate unselfishness. 
 With scarcely a worldly taint. 
 A Christian too — in deed, and in tnith- 
 In profession — somewhat scant- 
 But that, was due to his truthfulness. 
 His manly horror of cant. 
 Love transfigured him, into her own 
 Ideal counterpart — 
 Made him a moral looking-glass ; 
 Reflecting her own pure heart. 
 
 We live in iconoclast days. 
 
 And over wrecked idols, we sigh ! 
 
 The greatest iconoclast, oft, 
 
 Lies lurking, in love's marriage tie 
 
 The bride was a wife, of a week : 
 Love's idol tottered, and fell : 
 
( i6 ) 
 
 Its fragments were scattered around-^ 
 How broken, she hardly could tell. 
 She scarcely confessed to herself, 
 That her idol of hope, and of trust ; 
 In the glow of her springtime of life, 
 Was shattered, and laid in the dust. 
 
 Then, fiercely she sought to strangle. 
 Her soul-distressing thought : 
 And, fiercely she fought to smother. 
 The anguish it had brought : 
 But as a swimmer fights in vain, 
 An outward tide, his strength defies. 
 Despairing, sees the shore recede ; 
 Until he sinks and dies : 
 So, in an agony, she fought, 
 Against the doubt, her faith defied. 
 Despairing, saw her love recede. 
 Until Hope sank, and died. 
 
 The shadow of some deeper dread. 
 When love was overthrown, 
 Seemed always brooding over her, 
 And turned her heart to stone. 
 
( 17 ) 
 
 A dread, she could not understand — 
 An ever-thickening gloom — 
 Weighed on her soul — she felt she lived 
 Beneath the sword of doom. 
 
 Her babe was born, within the year ; 
 
 Her gloom took weird shape ; 
 
 She lived in a strange, waking trance 
 
 Of dread ; with no escape. 
 
 Her husband's presence troubled her ; 
 
 The nearness of a wife, 
 
 Brought up, before her anguished eyes, 
 
 The wreckage of his life. 
 
 Doubles of the living ; 
 
 Spirits of the dead ; 
 
 In her trance were walking. 
 
 Round with noiseless tread. 
 
 Women from the streets ; 
 
 Faces wan and pale ; 
 
 Eyes, whose depths of hopelessness, 
 
 Told their desperate tale. 
 
( 18 .) 
 
 In the throng of spectres, 
 Came a ghastly shade : — 
 Horrors of the nether world, 
 Her features all dismayed. 
 
 Dripping from the river, 
 
 Foul with ooze, and slime. 
 
 Game a girl cut off, 
 
 In her life's spring-time : 
 
 Eyes, wildly staring — 
 
 On her dead young face, 
 
 Still, her look of desperation, 
 
 When she fled the world's disgrace. 
 
 In her arms, she brought an infant, 
 
 Clasped, with frenzy wild ; 
 
 Clasped, as when herself she murdered. 
 
 With her poor abandoned child. 
 
 Phantom forms of outcast children ; 
 
 Born, for lives of blight ; 
 
 Haggard — shrunken — painful faces — 
 
 Agonized her sight. 
 
 Farmed ; neglected ; and abandoned — 
 
 Tortured to their death — 
 
( 19 ) 
 
 Or, in homes of degradation, 
 
 Breathing poisoned breath. 
 
 When they tried to touch her infant. 
 
 With their fingers, worn and thin. 
 
 She, with loathing, thrust them from him, 
 
 Tho' they were his nearest kin. 
 
 With the ghastly phantoms round her, 
 That her waking trance revealed ; 
 What the wonder, that she shuddered — 
 That her brain, so often, reeled .-* 
 
( 20 ) 
 
 The World and hep Lovep, 
 
 H^ 
 
 E wooed her, with the ferventness, 
 Of manhood's early prime ; 
 He saw her — only beautiful, 
 In youth's bright morning time. 
 
 And she had lands to give to him ; 
 And shining heaps of gold ; 
 And stores of art ; and learned books ; 
 From ancestors of old. 
 
 The pleasures, that she promised him, 
 He thought would never cloy ; 
 With jewelled hand, she offered him 
 A brimming cup of joy. 
 
( 21 ) 
 
 With her, he saw ideal life. 
 
 In blissful waking dreams, 
 
 Where sunlight, should be shadowless. 
 
 With never-ending beams. 
 
 What wonder, that he wooed her, and 
 With passion, pressed his suit ? 
 For silence gave encouragement — 
 Her smiling lips were mute. 
 
 At last, she turned, and said to him, 
 With half-averted eyes ; 
 " My pleasures all are vanishing, 
 And beauty quickly dies." 
 
 " Then, let me seize them while I may," 
 The ardent youth replied ; 
 " Then, let me clasp thee to my heart — 
 Love's longings satisfied." 
 
 She stood, and looked into his face, 
 A moment mournfully ; 
 And said, " Who wins me for his bride ; 
 Must give me dowerie." 
 
( 22 ) 
 
 " Now, tell me, what that dower may be, 
 For if that dower be mine, 
 To win but thee," the youth replied, 
 " That dower is surely thine." 
 
 She answered him, with truthful eyes ; 
 " Thy bride must dear be bought !-..— 
 My dowerie is — thy soul," — 'She said ; 
 And then — he paused — and-^thought. 
 
( 23 ) 
 
 Wedded to the World. 
 
 MIDNIGHT !— the New Year's bells 
 Have found me still at work ! 
 Ye ancient sentinels, 
 Of passing time— ring on ! 
 
 My ledgers, and my bills, 
 I leave, to seek some rest. 
 Ring on ! — the distant hills 
 Re-echo your glad sounds. 
 
 A good round sum of cash. 
 These piles of papers mean ; 
 More of the—" yellow trash," 
 Than I had ever hoped 
 
( H ) 
 
 To make, within one year : 
 When, first, to buy and sell, 
 And save, with mind austere. 
 Became my rule of life. 
 
 An upright ; honest life ; 
 Perhaps a little hard ! 
 But> in the worldly strife, 
 A man must guard himself : 
 
 Must fight for his own hand J 
 Unless front policy. 
 Unflinchingly, must stand 
 Upon his legal rights ; 
 
 Or, crushed against the wall. 
 Be beaten and undone. 
 My pile of cash, was all, 
 Won by strict honesty : 
 
 Strict honesty — ■! made 
 My pride — advertisement — 
 Part of my stock in tfade : 
 My secret of success. — 
 
( 25 ) 
 
 Ring on old bells ! — ring on ! 
 New years, you welcomed thus, 
 For generations gone, 
 Long since, to dust : — and then ? — 
 
 To either Heaven, or hell ; 
 So theologians say : 
 Perhaps — I cannot tell : 
 It's more than fifty years. 
 
 Since, in my manhood's prime. 
 That question troubled me : — 
 My work has left no time, 
 For thoughts, that do not pay. 
 
 I must be near the brink. 
 
 Of that blind precipice. 
 
 From which men strangely shrink. 
 
 As they approach its edge. 
 
 Ring on — old bells ! — in youth, 
 Your New Year's peal had power 
 To touch some Springs of truth ; 
 Deep in my inmost soul. 
 
( 26 ) 
 
 In those old days, I met 
 The coming year in prayer : 
 Sometimes, my cheeks were wet. 
 With hot spontaneous tears, 
 
 Fast flowing, from the well 
 Of thoughts, too deep for words : 
 The ceaseless ; heaving swell ; 
 Of life's sad under soul. 
 
 And now, old bells, your peal, 
 That heralds a New Year, 
 Can only make me feel 
 A wish, that you would cease 
 
 Your clanging ; for my brain. 
 Is weary with my work ; 
 And I, in sleep, would gain 
 Some respite from my toil. 
 
 At over seventy-three, 
 
 God — and God only — knows. 
 
 If I, again, shall see 
 
 A Sunday New Year's Day. 
 
( 27 ) 
 
 To sleep ! — and, if I wake, 
 And see the New Year's sun ; 
 I will again, attend 
 A service in the church, 
 
 To which my mother led, 
 For years, my childish steps. 
 She rests amongst the dead, 
 Close to its southern wall. — 
 
 She rests, beneath the grass — 
 Perhaps — who knows ? — her shade 
 Will hear me, as I pass. 
 And be more joyful made. 
 * * * * 
 
 How strange, that here I knelt ; 
 And prayed long years ago ! — 
 In early youth, I felt 
 God near me, when I came 
 
 Within these ancient walls. 
 It seems to me, with age, 
 A numbing coldness falls 
 Upon the heart and soul. 
 
( 28 ) 
 
 The pictured window glass, 
 Once, touched emotion's springst 
 The music made me pass. 
 Up to a higher plane 
 
 Of thought, and feeling— oii 
 That higher plane, I lived 
 A higher life : — ^gone ! — ^gone \— 
 For ever !-^past recall 1 
 
 The life of Heaven must be, 
 Life on that higher plane, 
 In which men's souls are free 
 From all the fret and care ; 
 
 The low ; dull ; sordid strife 
 Of petty rivalry ; 
 And competition ; rife 
 Amongst the nien of trade. 
 
 My ledgers, still, will hold 
 I*ossession of my brain ! 
 I came, to seek those old 
 Emotions of my youth ; 
 
( 29 ) 
 
 That, long unheeded, seem 
 Dim unrealities — 
 A half remembered dream, 
 Of a man, strange to me. 
 
 With worshippers I kneel : 
 I kneel — but cannot pray : 
 When on my knees, I feel 
 Oppressed with worldly thoughts 
 
 Stocks ; bargains ; and amounts ; 
 So haunt my mind to-day. 
 That I cast up accounts, 
 Before thei throne of God. 
 
 God ! — what a gulf between 
 The man I was ! — and am ! — ■ 
 A cold — hard — mere machine, 
 For heaping hoards of gold. 
 
 If Heaven is, as they say. 
 Life on that higher plane : — 
 God help me ! — power to pray. 
 Has left me in my age. 
 
( 30 ) 
 
 L 
 
 Life's Enigma. 
 
 OOK at that stricken man ! 
 J Mark well, his pain-worn face ! 
 His God-allotted span 
 Of life, will soon run out ; 
 And then — the only trace 
 Of him, left on this earth : 
 On which he ran his race 
 Of life, and thought — and felt 
 Its sorrow, and its mirth ; 
 Will be an empty name — 
 Notes of his death, and birth, 
 Found in a Parish book. 
 
 And for this dying frame. 
 Of earthly dust, did God 
 
( 31 ) 
 
 Light up the wondrous flame 
 Of life ; of love ; of mind ? 
 No ! no ! — thou senseless clod ! 
 How can dry mouldering bones, 
 Beneath a graveyard's sod, 
 End human life ? — and thought ? 
 If that were so, the moans 
 Of dying men, would make 
 The sympathetic stones, 
 For pity, plead to Heaven. 
 God could not, thus forsake, 
 The children of His will ; 
 Or, but delight to break 
 Them, on the wheel of chance ; 
 Or, wantonly, to kill 
 Them, on the rack of pain. — 
 Of an Almighty Power, 
 That, were to think too ill. 
 
 Life, cannot be a chain. 
 That holds the tortured down ; 
 Who cry to God, in vain^ 
 To be allowed to die. 
 Beyond the jailor's frown. 
 
( 32 ) 
 
 Must be a vision fair — 
 A gopd, that comes to crown, 
 With everlasting peace, 
 The head of earth's despair — 
 But, how that crown is wrought. 
 How evil leads to good- 
 God knows — we leave it there. 
 
( 33 ) 
 
 fl Poop lean's Appeal. 
 
 ATHEIST ! do not take away ijiy feith 
 in immortaJityr^and-r-God ! 
 For all my journey through the world, 
 has been a pilgrimage, of hope deferred, 
 That made me sick at heart : but, in my deepest 
 
 disappointment, still, I trod 
 My way of life, with reverent, restful confidenqe, 
 
 that I was wisely led 
 By an Almighty Power; who filled, and rulgd, 
 
 the universe ; and was to iriie, 
 A Father, and a Friend, By that great thought 
 
 sustained, I still could dare, to tread 
 My path in peace ; in firm belief, that tho' I 
 missed -my earthly happiness ; 
 
( 34 ) 
 
 I moved but towards a greater good ; that I 
 
 should see, and know ; when I had passed, 
 Through death, to immortality. But for the hope 
 
 that I should find redress 
 For earthly wrongs, and earthly woes, within the 
 
 wonder of the spirit-world ; 
 I, long ago, had sunk and died — crushed by the 
 
 weight of adverse circumstance. 
 O, do not kill that soul-sustaining hope ! God 
 
 lives ! — to love ; to light ; to lead 
 His children through the storms of life. Himself 
 
 has given. O atheist ! do not dare. 
 To say that He is dead — that He has left them, 
 
 orphans, in their helplessness ; 
 To gaze into a soulless space, of universal death ; 
 
 and cry, in vain. 
 To dull ; dead ; senseless elements ; to guide their 
 
 lives ; and pity their distress. 
 O, do not say that God is dead ! for then, the 
 
 loved, and lost, are also dead ; 
 Without the hope of immortality — wrongs righted 
 
 in another world ; 
 And compensation given for sorrows, suffered 
 undeserved. Without that hope ; 
 
( 35 ) 
 
 Life, were too maddening, for the man, who finds 
 that at the banquet of the world ; 
 
 No place is laid for him: — that he was bom to 
 suffer — and — to fall to dust. 
 
( 36 ) 
 
 Babels. 
 
 OME Eastern builders of the olden time, 
 Once tried to build a city ; and a tower, 
 Whose top should reach to Heaven. 
 They thought to climb 
 The starry height, and there, escape the power 
 Of earthly ills ; and with that foolish thought, 
 These builders laboured on, from day to day. 
 In weariness and pain ; but, as they wrought, 
 Fair Heaven seemed but to further melt away. 
 Into a far infinity of sky ; 
 Where cruel Hope sat mocking at their grief. 
 Poor builders ! the sad inarticulate cry. 
 That made you build 'your tower, to seek relief 
 In Heaven, from earthly ill, and earthly pain. 
 Wakes echoes still, within the souls of men ; 
 
( 37 ) 
 
 Who build theologies ; and seek to gain, 
 
 Safe stairways up to Heaven. They build — 
 
 and then — 
 God comes to see the work, and still, confounds 
 The false, and smiles upon the true. Poor fools ! — 
 The stairway, up to Heaven, is not on rounds 
 Of cold, dead steps, wrought with material tools ; 
 Or on square systems, built by subtle brains. 
 Of priests and schoolmen— dull idolatries 
 Of words, that darken wisdom ; and are banes 
 Of higher life, and true philosophies. 
 Poor builders, building on the sands of time ! — 
 Poor fools ! you laboured but to miss the way, 
 By which alone, the souls of men can climb 
 To Heaven, on living steps, from day to day. 
 Wrought in themselves, by noble thoughts and 
 
 deeds 
 That build in them, the stairway up to God ; 
 On which with holy lives, and simple creeds. 
 The world's examples reverently trod. 
 
{ 38 ) 
 
 IVIothep and Children. 
 
 PRELUDE. 
 
 FT on a summer day, 
 We go upon our way, 
 With hearts most light and gay ; 
 
 To' find its brightest hour, 
 
 Marred by a thunder shower — 
 
 Our sweetest flower. 
 
 Oft droops and dies, 
 
 Before our eyes. 
 
 Ere daylight flies. 
 
 Twelve months ago, the joyous children came, 
 To wish me happiness on New Year's morn. 
 They thought I slept, although the opal dawn 
 Had kissed the world an hour ago, and said. 
 
( 39 ) 
 
 " Awake ! — arise ! — to greet another year — 
 
 That may bring joy ; but must bring many a tear, 
 
 To some, of all the millions sleeping here." 
 
 They whispered, at my chamber-door, 
 
 And made a loving little scheme, 
 
 To softly creep along the floor. 
 
 And wake me, from a pleasant dream, 
 
 With kisses, and with gifts of love. 
 
 I closed my eyes, with kind deceit. 
 
 And listened, as the little feet. 
 
 So softly stole along, 
 
 So reverently trod, 
 
 You might have thought that angels came. 
 
 Their loving footsteps, all aflame 
 
 With sunbeams straight from God. 
 
 But, when my bed was near — 
 
 Excitement grew too strong, 
 
 Sweet pleasures to prolong; 
 
 Each rushed to have the bliss 
 
 Of the awakening kiss. 
 
 Upon the young new year. 
 
 * * » » 
 
 Twelve months ago ! — but, on my dying lips, 
 I feel your kisses still ; — fresh, warm, and sweet. 
 
( 40 ) 
 
 And I shall feel them, till our spirits meet 
 In Pamdise ; to part and weep fto more. 
 Twelve months ago ! — and now, poor little souls, 
 You dare not come, to wish me happiness 
 On New Year's morn ; instinctively, you guess 
 Where I am going, and sad, and strange distress 
 Weighs on yoUr loving hearts — "Cofhe, children, 
 
 come. 
 And wish me all good cheer ! — 
 I have no doubt, or fear, 
 In meeting my new year, 
 That all with me, is well : 
 Come — kiss me, once agaiti ! 
 My last, my only pain. 
 Is grief at leaving you." 
 
 Twelve months ago, I could not say so much ! 
 
 For then, I knew, the slightest little touch. 
 
 Of one of life's vicissitudes, 
 
 Might plunge me into pain. 
 
 For hopes untimely slain. 
 
 Never to rise again. 
 
 I coifld itiot count upon a pleasure : 
 
 Or call my own a cherished treasure ; 
 
( 41 ) 
 
 Ere evensong, 
 It might belong 
 To the sad throng 
 Of sighing ghosts, 
 Of my heart's hosts. 
 Of hopes departed. 
 
 And now — no more, shall heart-distressing doubt 
 
 Destroy my peace of mind ; my soul, throughout. 
 
 Still ; calm ; eternity ; 
 
 Shall be for ever free, 
 
 From sad uncertainty : 
 
 For I have learnt to link my secret soul. 
 
 With the Great Master Soul — life's final goal — 
 
 Unchangeable and infinite : 
 
 And I have found release ; 
 
 And sighs and sorrows cease ; 
 
 In that sweet bond of peace. 
 
( 42 ) 
 
 |Vly Brother IVIan. 
 
 E came, a wanderer, to my door, 
 And shivered in the rain : 
 Upon his face, I saw the marks. 
 
 Of long-continued pain. 
 
 He told his tale, of want and woe — 
 
 I scarce believed it true — 
 
 But still, my heart said, " Brother man, 
 
 I must be kind to you. 
 
 I could not bear, to harshly drive 
 
 A homeless dog away ; 
 
 If he came crouching to my door. 
 
 On such a stormy day." 
 
 Perhaps, his want was well deserved : 
 
 His pain, the fruit of sin : 
 
 But still, my heart said, " Brother man, 
 
( 43 ) 
 
 God's creatures all are kin ; 
 And judgment best is left, to God's 
 All-penetrating mind — 
 We mortals, only know enough, 
 To trust Him — and be kind." 
 The wanderer stood, and told his tale- 
 It might be false, or true — 
 I could not see the mental scenes. 
 That passed before his view : 
 I could not hear the sounds he heard. 
 Of voices that had fled ; 
 I could not see, as he could see, 
 The faces of his dead. 
 I could not feel what he had felt ; 
 Or think, what he had thought. 
 When, on his heart's lone battle-field. 
 Fierce friends, with angels fought. 
 I saw him stand — I heard his tale 
 Of life, apart from mine : 
 I felt, how each lives in his own 
 Impenetrable shrine. 
 I tried to draw the veil aside : — 
 His secret soul to see : 
 I only saw — the gulf between. 
 
( 44 ) 
 
 My brother man and me : 
 
 But, listening to his piteous tale, 
 
 I bridged that gulf in part : 
 
 For sympathy, with subtle chords, 
 
 Drew human heart to heart. 
 
( 45 ) 
 
 Time's Winnoming fan. 
 
 I STOOD with Time — and watched him work 
 His mighty winnowiog fan. 
 In long array, mankind advanced :^ 
 Great conquerors led the van ; 
 
 In loud triumphant pomp they came, 
 With drums, and deafening cheers ; 
 With glory filling half the world, 
 They reached the fan of years : 
 
 They entered there : — at once, a hush 
 Fell on life's loud acclaims :• — 
 Before Time's winnowing blast they flew, 
 A chaff of empty names. 
 
( 46 ) 
 
 Next, came great emperors and kings, 
 With queens, and stately courts ; 
 Who sold the lives of men, to feed 
 Their vanities and sports. 
 
 They walked as if they scorned God's ground, 
 That most of them defiled : 
 They trampled on the rights of men, 
 Whose minds they so beguilpd, 
 
 With pomp, and power, and pageantry. 
 And bold defiailt pride ; 
 The fools, with meekness kissed their feet — 
 Their plunderers deified. 
 
 With crowns and sceptres on they came, 
 Each with a glittering train : — 
 They reached the winnowing fan 6f Time ; — 
 And, when I looked again, 
 
 Its blast had severed things that are, 
 From things that only seem : — 
 Their glory, and their pageantry. 
 Had vanished like a dream. 
 
( 47 ) 
 
 Before me, in immortal crowns, 
 Stood all the good and just ; 
 The base and selfish scattered round, 
 Were heaps of labelled dust. 
 
 Age after age, and rank, on rank, 
 I saw the peoples come — 
 I heard the voices of the past. 
 Death long had stricken dumb ; 
 
 I heard applause, that greeted bold 
 Self-seekers of a day ; — 
 
 They reached Time's winnowing fan ; — and lo ! 
 Applause had died away : 
 
 Before its blast, the base and bad, 
 Divided from the true, 
 Upon the dust heap of the world, 
 In naked falseness flew. 
 
 On that foul heap " great " statesmen lay ; 
 With writers of bad books ; 
 And kings, and queens, and emperors. 
 Who, with their gilded hooks, 
 
( 48 ) 
 
 Caught men, aa4 then QQi-rupted th^m, 
 To serve their selfish ends ;-— 
 They flew before Time's winnowing bkst» 
 With all that but pretends. 
 
 Time stood beside his fan, and sm.ile4 
 To see how men are ruled^ 
 By shows, and shajns, and soj^stries, 
 And how the world is fooled, 
 
 By tricksi and lies, and flatteries. 
 Of charlatans and knaves ; 
 Who make men drag their gilded cars, 
 In troops of willing slaves ; 
 
 But, as they reached his winniQwing blast. 
 The false before it flew ; 
 And, as goq^d garnered grain, re^mained 
 The noble and the true. 
 
 Turn then, old Time, thy winnowing fan. 
 And make it faster go ; 
 That falseness from Ggd's foolish earth. 
 Its blast may sooner blow. 
 
( 49 ) 
 
 Time's Immortality. 
 
 WHAT matters it ; if men remember me, 
 When I have gone to live amongst the 
 stars ; 
 In some fair home, where earthly frets, and jars, 
 Have ceased to vex my soul ; and I can see 
 The deepest depths of truth ; my vision free 
 From earth's distortions ; and from all that mars, 
 The intercourse of souls ; when God unbars, 
 The golden gates of immortality ? 
 
 What matter; if men read me through, and 
 
 through ; 
 And talk of me ; when I am but a name ; 
 
 E 
 
( 50 ) 
 
 And all I love, have gone to join the just ? 
 What matters it ? But, for the good I do ; 
 No more than if they reverently came, 
 III after years — and stooped, and kissed my 
 dust.