P s 
 
 If? 5 
 
Book ■// /?! 
 Copyright}!^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
A Philosophical and 
 Spiritual Poem 
 
 C. G. OYSTON 
 
 Author of 
 
 The Purpose of Life/' etc. 
 
 Copyright by 
 
 C. G. OYSTON 
 
 1909 
 
 ^Designed and ^ade by 
 
 LINDSAY PUBLISHING COMPANY 
 Seattle, Wash. 1909 Portland, Ore. 
 

 I 
 
 The Ante-Natal Farewell, Canto the First ....... Nine 
 
 The Baptism of Fire, Canto the Second Eleven 
 
 The Awakening, Canto the Third Sixteen 
 
 Leaving the Physical Body, Canto the Fourth Nineteen 
 
 My Spiritual Companion, Canto the Fifth Twenty-Three 
 
 The Journey to the Regions of Shade, Canto the Sixth . . Twenty-Eight 
 
 Description of Volitionless Spirits, Canto the Seventh ..... Thirty-Six 
 The Spiritual Condition of the Materialist, Canto the Eighth . . Forty-One 
 
 The Suicide, Canto the Ninth Forty-Seven 
 
 The Dead Sea Fruit of Selfishness, Canto the Tenth . . . . Fifty-One 
 The Spiritual Condition of an Eminent Divine, Canto the Eleventh Fifty-Seven 
 
 The Spiritual Home of the Intellectual Philosopher, Canto the Twelfth Sixty-Five 
 The Search for Light, Canto the Thirteenth .... Seventy-Four 
 The Promise of the Future, Canto the Fourteenth .... Eighty- Three 
 The Fruit of Wisdom, Canto the Fifteent^i Ninety-Three 
 
 ©GLA252900 
 
^ 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 The fond ambition to embalm the spiritual philosophy in the attractive 
 form of rythmic numbers was entertained for some time previous to its 
 actual accomplishment. Realizing how effective had been similar efforts 
 by artistic zealots and devotees of the popular faith — how the singing of 
 hymns and the sentiment conveyed — the epics and lyrics of the past had 
 saturated others with the thought implied I hoped that my purpose would 
 have analogous results. Repeated attempts were made, but natural diffi- 
 dence and disappointments induced me to retire unsatisfied. 
 
 Knowing that the ideas were worthy of the imagery of genius it seemed 
 like sacrilege to lay vandal hands upon a domain exclusive and sublime; 
 but in the absence of a more worthy appreciator I frankly confess that I 
 have done my best, and leave the issue with the receptive and perceptive 
 mind. 
 
 C G. OYSTON. 
 
 November 10, '09. 
 
PROGRESSIVE THOUGHT 
 
 Sweetly shrined in fragrant roses — wrapt in charms of tranquil ease 
 
 Ev'ry moment brings contentment to the child of Southern Seas; 
 Sensuous raptures, exultations, close communion soul to soul, 
 
 Heart to heart in sweetest concert swells response to ocean's roll ; 
 Yet though Peace with Bliss abounding all of joy such life portrays, 
 
 Progress sounds the call to Duty, and the Child the Man obeys; 
 Blazing suns in tropic regions oft absorb the breath of air, 
 
 Man and beast distressful pleading outward weariness must share; 
 But on yon far off horizon Thunder's sombre flag unfurled 
 
 Symbolized in signs prophetic breathes of Hope to all the world. 
 Surging whirlwinds, frightful gleamings, streaming furious floods the 
 rain, 
 
 Peal on peal with wrath repeated heaven's artill'ry sweeps the plain; 
 Man aw^akes from pristine slumber — storms must clarify the mind; 
 
 Thought like nature, stern, relentless, is but "cruel to be kind." 
 Voicing all the moods of mortals though she murmurs sigh for sigh 
 
 Love's rich blossoms silhouetted smile upon an angry sky. 
 
©l|^ plgrtmag? of a ^nul 
 
 THE ANTE -NATAL FAREWELL 
 Canto the First 
 
 'Mid fairy scenes — 'mid hallowed joys no mortal tongue can tell 
 At Duty's call I clasped Her hand, and smiled a last farewell : 
 
 She, who to me had been my all, my heart's responsive thrill — 
 She whose divine ambrosial breath would sweetest love instill. 
 
 With pensive, sad, but radiant beam her thoughts glowed in my heart, 
 Inspired, sustained, equipped was I — ^yet how could spirits part 
 
 Whose fibered strings and yearning charms had always been entwined 
 Like leaves in rapturous fond embrace wooed by the western wind? 
 
 But once again I must be clothed in grosser mortal form. 
 
 To measure strength with earthly foes, and breast the adverse storm ; 
 
 To poise the will — perceive the God within my soul enshrined. 
 
 That I might thus disperse thought forms which Progress has defined. 
 
 She spoke — her voice was like the rill that ripples to the sea, 
 
 Or as the breeze through blossomed boughs 'twas rich with melody; 
 
 Nine 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 No silv'ry peal in liquid strain could with that tone compare, 
 
 'Twas sweeter than the harpstring's swell merged with the trem'lous air. 
 
 "Be brave my soul's eternal joy — gird on thy shadowed frame! 
 
 That semblance of thy present form — so near yet not the same. 
 Be firm, be just, be kindly true — assert thy manly power — 
 
 Come back to me thy mind aglow with Wisdom's priceless dower. 
 
 "The lines of life allotted thee up from thy mortal birth 
 
 Will not be smoothed or spread with blooms or glitt'ring gems of earth : 
 
 These riches are not wealth to thee as others fondly dream, 
 The di'mond, deep immured in clay, contains the solar beam. 
 
 "Wrapt in the sombre robes obscure thy feet will often bleed; 
 
 Thy heart will weep, but no kind friend will thy petition heed ; 
 Though as the Pilgrim's lions these grim forms may thee appall, 
 
 Yet like the Phoenix thou shalt rise triumphant over all." 
 
 She said, and side by side we turned and touched the golden strand — 
 The confined realm — ^the tideless shore of glorious Summer Land; 
 
 Her gentle hand was laid upon my fevered aching brow. 
 
 And sweet Oblivion spanned the bridge between the Then and Now. ; 
 
 Ten 
 
of a Soul 
 
 THE BAPTISM OF FIRE 
 
 Canto the Second 
 
 Upon the bank and shoal of Time armed with the infant's cry, 
 
 I woke, perplexed, confused, obscured, with none but strangers nigh 
 
 No silver'd cot nor ermined robe enwrapped my form of clay, 
 When first my wond'ring eager eyes oped to the light of day. 
 
 But fabled hordes could not that rich maternal love repay: 
 She, who so sacrificing spread the flowers upon my way; 
 
 She who was worthy to be crowned with all that wealth e'er gave, 
 The strongest soul^ the noblest heart, the bravest of the brave. 
 
 Ambition stooped to conquer in an humbler social sphere, 
 And sought for mental riches in conditions more austere ; 
 
 For Contrast only can supply and on the spirit shower 
 
 The benisons of thought and will and soul-creative power. 
 
 Years rolled on years, my pulsing heart "cribbed, cabined and confined' 
 Aspired to scale the heights sublime which Freedom has assigned; 
 
 But like the minstrel of the sky mocked by the vernal sod 
 I beat aspiring wings in vain, and chafed beneath the rod. 
 
 Eleven 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 Yet radiant clouds of glory in the chambers deep within 
 Illumed a world which smiled away discordant outward din; 
 
 Like gems that ope their petals to embrace the solar joy 
 
 I loved my sweet surroundings "Ah! who would not be a boy?" 
 
 Alone, yet not alone indeed when Nature could beguile, 
 
 And thought impulses whisper from each wood and deep defile; 
 
 I nestled close to her kind heart, she blessed me in return, 
 I loved her in her milder moods or in her aspects stern. 
 
 My dreamy recollections of the home I left behind 
 
 Would brood upon my waiting hopes and hallow all my mind; 
 
 The light with mellow glow streamed through my earthly prison bars, 
 And Beauty in the silence spoke like Night with all her stars. 
 
 And now in my maturer years I often wonder why 
 
 I view with sightless, senseless eyes, the mountain, wave and sky? — 
 The meadow's silky vibrant gleam — the stream's reflected glow — 
 
 Inspirers of my solitude with music sweet and low. 
 
 The clay fast hard'ning into rock repels that former joy, 
 
 The glory's fled — where once was gold is naught but coarse alloy; 
 
 Twelve 
 
of a Soul 
 
 Oh! could Desire that charm restore how happy would I be! 
 My little world would always seem a Paradise to me. 
 
 Tis gone ! But will it not return when mortal clouds roll by ? 
 
 When all must be obedient to the spirit's smile or sigh — 
 Where all is but reflection of the soul's sincere desire, 
 
 Where man can to the highest good eternally aspire? 
 
 The lordly eagle who was wont through rolling clouds to soar 
 And gaze defiance on the sun or scorn the tempest's roar — 
 
 Indignant spurns the curbing hand — he lives, but with the free — 
 He yearns to breathe the mountain air and bask in liberty. 
 
 So man condemned to bear the pain — to pine in prison walls 
 Appeals and seeks a larger life for which his spirit calls : 
 
 He gasps and yearns — aspires for that which earth can not supply — 
 The God within would fain be free and mortal bonds defy. 
 
 Restrained by gross material cares, no pleading can restore 
 The raptured joys, romantic charms, enchanting days of yore: 
 
 No yearning retrospective cry will now such call obey; 
 Though Wisdom crowns declining years we sigh for Morning's May. 
 
 Thirteen 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 To wander through the silent fields among the new-mown hay, 
 Enshrouded in its sweet perfume throughout the livelong day, 
 
 To bound across the billowed grass and chase the festive bird, 
 
 While in the glorious ambient blue the skylark's song was heafd; 
 
 To pluck the sweet delicious fruit from Nature's gen'rous hand — 
 To plunge into the silv'ry flood and bask upon the strand, 
 
 To seek the feathered minstrel's home by sunny bank or glen, 
 Ah! What today can now coniipare with our enjoyment then? 
 
 Those scenes when Nature was adorned in robes celestial bright. 
 No longer can suffuse the soul with rivers of delight; 
 
 In shade of adverse mental storms — the smoke of battle fields — 
 We fervent gaze but no response the barren prospect yields. 
 
 Still there is hope : the shadowed mind denied the joys of sense 
 Will when released from sordid chains, receive its recompense, 
 
 Those senses here may be obscured and ev'ry portal sealed; 
 Yet light and hope will there return — a new world be revealed. 
 
 Fourteen 
 
of a Soul 
 
 So will it be when we pass on to spirit life indeed; 
 
 No limitations such as these our progress will impede; 
 Whate'er the thought may there demand will not be made in vain, 
 
 And feeling here but prophesies what there we can obtain. 
 
 Fifteen 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 THE AWAKENING 
 Canto the Third 
 
 At length the rose-bud opened wide its petals to the sun, 
 And youth with adolescent charms its pilgrimage begun; 
 
 When friendships like the ivy leaves around the oak entwined 
 Impart, express, exchange and feel, and nourish heart and mind. 
 
 The meshes of the curtained veil spread round with darkened pall 
 Concealing from my piercing gaze my Counterpart — my All — 
 
 Could not defy her hallowed ray which smiled upon my heart. 
 
 No distance, time, nor shrouding clouds could keep our souls apart. 
 
 She wrapped the festoons of her love around two earthly forms, 
 Obedient to this sweet control we sought Emotion's storms ; 
 
 Oblivious of the fairy coils which with us were ensphered, 
 
 We lived, we breathed, we thought as one, soul was by soul revered. 
 
 We thought such silken binding cords could ne'er be disentwined. 
 No love like ours, so fervent, true — 'had e'er in power declined; 
 
 The feeling was as though unfelt, we could not be alone, 
 
 *Two souls with but a single thought — two hearts that beat as one." 
 
 Sixteen 
 
of a Soul 
 
 No plumb-line could those depths explore from whence welled up the 
 stream 
 Which cooled a parched and sterile earth illumed by "Love's young 
 dream," 
 And though the bleeding tears proclaimed the hearts She tore away, 
 A sacrifice for greater good the favored must obey. 
 
 Time's two decades had not comprised my term of lone exile. 
 When I awoke and scaled the heights above the deep defile 
 
 Where dark-defined distorted thoughts disputed my appeal — 
 
 But now the spirit world conveyed what priests could not reveal. 
 
 Dissolved by Light's transmuting gleam my mental fetters fell, 
 And grim forebodings passed away with Superstition's knell; 
 
 Afar my thought's horizon spread lit by the dawning sun, 
 
 And Music breathed to my glad heart that Progress had begun. 
 
 My spirit from its slumber woke — dispersed the clouds of gloom, 
 
 Aspired, and cried for ''Light, more Light!" for thought more ample 
 room; 
 
 And longed for some solution of those problems dark and strange 
 Perplexing Life's anomalies and universal change. 
 
 Seventeen 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 By compeer souls in mortal garb my mind was not illumed, 
 
 The fascinating gold they chased though wisdom they assumed; 
 
 No master mind with awesome power aspired the race to lead: 
 I yearned in vain — no favored one could such a boon concede. 
 
 But man is never left to tread the winepress all alone, 
 
 Some sympathetic heart attends to hear the spirit's moan; 
 
 Some witness from on high smiles on, and points a brighter goal — 
 Responsive to those burning thoughts — the incense of the soul. 
 
 Man plants his foot upon the earth, and Nature's face is changed — 
 Their mutual discords interpose like hearts that are estranged; 
 
 But Love unfolds, man sighs in pain, and Nature sighs again: 
 Near and more near in sweet accord they love — nor love in vain. 
 
 Thus closely knit in mute appeal their spirits interblend. 
 
 Though roaring storms and raging winds their upward course attend; 
 
 Thus Nature like an artful maid disturbs man's tranquil soul, 
 That soul awakes, o'ercomes, subdues — Is Master of the Whole ! 
 
 Eighteen 
 
of a Soul 
 
 LEAVING THE PHYSICAL BODY 
 
 Canto the Fourth 
 
 When the mind is absorbed in serene contemplation, 
 
 And worlds in perspective enrapture the view, 
 When the regions of fancy produce sweet elation. 
 
 And to cares of the world we have bid an adieu, 
 
 How we shrink from obtrusion imposed by the sordid! 
 
 Who heedlessly smile as our visions depart, 
 Who will harsh interpose with the vulgar and morbid. 
 
 And thoughts that appeal not to mind nor to heart. 
 
 Then the soul which had opened the gates of the morning 
 
 To welcome the light of the newly-born day, 
 With its glorious tints the horizon adorning, 
 
 To make the external Thought's impulse obey. 
 
 Will enwrap the sweet breathing of Hope's early blossom 
 
 With diffident fears, apprehensive and shy; 
 As the icy north breeze chills the earth's loving bosom. 
 
 And gems of the springtime will languish and die ; 
 
 Nineteen 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 So thoughtful poised souls who indulge introspection 
 Retire to the solitude far from the crowd; 
 
 Where none can disturb their profoundest reflection, 
 In archives of ages with wisdom endowed. 
 
 Instinctive ignoring such cold innovation, 
 
 When thoughts so congenial are ruthless repelled 
 
 I have forthwith retired from the coarse ostentation, 
 At which my resentment impatient rebelled. 
 
 And yet there was one who was ne'er an intrusion. 
 Our magnetic breathings were never estranged; 
 
 From his great loving soul I absorbed in profusion. 
 And mind's richest jewels were freely exchanged. 
 
 On his breast was the symbol of Honor's escutcheon, 
 His sterling integrity naught could defy ; 
 
 While Wisdom subdued his emotion's eruption 
 He would always respond to Humanity's sigh. 
 
 With a heart like a child but with kindest revealing 
 The throbbings spontaneous of Sympathy's balm, 
 
 Twenty 
 
of a Soul 
 
 His soul would o'erflow with the rich streams of healing, 
 And hearts would suffuse him with Gratitude's psalm. 
 
 On the altar of service he placed his devotion, 
 No recompense selfish could e'er him enthrall; 
 
 He freely dispensed that divine spirit potion, 
 A life consecrated — a blessing to all. 
 
 Determined to sunder the veil intervening, 
 And truthfully know what was only implied, 
 
 I would brave the unseen for this Life's subtle meaning, 
 And Dante and Milton should be amplified. 
 
 To this friend I unburthened my daring ambition, 
 Remonstrant he pleaded — my folly decried; 
 
 But I bid him produce the magnetic condition. 
 Reluctant and thoughtful he gracious complied. 
 
 Though touched by the charm of my sacred devotion, 
 
 My child-like repose in a confident claim. 
 He knew that the strains of intensest emotion 
 
 Might sever the cord, and extinguish the flame. 
 
 Twenty-One 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 Twas night — and embowered in the woodbine and roses, 
 We aspired contemplative to bright stellar fields, 
 
 Where calmest and soothing reflection reposes, 
 And peaceful conditions tranquillity yields. 
 
 On the sunbeam we wandered through regions of beauty, 
 
 In oceans of glory bejewelled on high; 
 To prepare me serenely for Thought's sternest duty, 
 
 To strengthen the Will, and my foemen defy. 
 
 There placing his hand on the dome of reflection 
 He kindly but firmly then bid me Godspeed; 
 
 He would faithfully shield and with wisest protection 
 Guard the portals externe when the soul should recede. 
 
 Twenty-Two 
 
of a Soul 
 
 MY SPIRITUAL COMPANION 
 Canto the Fifth 
 
 As noonday rays on drifted snow distress the mortal eye 
 
 My conscious life once more resumed now sensed a Presence nigh; 
 
 Each nerve and fibre pulse and vein thrilled with o'erwhelming awe. 
 And trembling writhed in painful throes e'er I the spirit saw. 
 
 Benignly wise with magic charm the Presence did enshroud, 
 
 His form, which then looked like the sun behind a summer cloud; 
 
 Engirdled by a belt of pearls the wealth of purity, 
 
 His radiant robes proclaimed a power of regal high degree. 
 
 His eyes within the circling caves blazed like Mount Etna's flame. 
 Instinctively my gaze recoiled, I could not look the same; 
 
 His thought transformed the circling world, eclipsing feebler rays, 
 A spiritual kaleidoscope with scintillant displays. 
 
 Though voiceless thoughts may be exchanged by wiser souls than ours. 
 And heart responds to feeling's throb in those supernal bowers ; 
 
 The pilgrim in this denser world must denser means employ. 
 Adult matured perception can't appeal unto the boy. 
 
 Twenty-Three 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 I've heard the organ's lofty peal along the sacred aisle, 
 And heaven's artill'ry roll away o'er hill and deep defile: 
 
 I've heard the moaning of the bar on wave-lapped lonely shore, 
 And soughs and sighs on rugged coast respond to billow's roar ; 
 
 Though all these sounds that represent the music of the sea. 
 With all the silver vibrant strains of meadow vale or lea 
 
 May constitute the all to us of melody divine 
 
 The human voice does all comprise — their music all combine. 
 
 My heart resumed its normal tone, my will became enthroned; 
 
 The purpose stern now "filed my mind," and for my fears atoned; 
 My tutor soul might now impale the wisdom — ill-advised, 
 
 I stood behind a fortress grim, and outward foes despised. 
 
 That voice might rend the giant oak, and stoutest hearts appall, 
 I dared do all that man may do whate'er might me befall ; 
 
 Thus calm, resolved, I firmly stood armed with my nerves of steel. 
 Prepared to meet those dangers dire my comrade might reveal. 
 
 This fervid unassuming zeal my friend could but admire, 
 I felt he would cooperate to grant my heart's desire; 
 
 Twenty-Four 
 
of a Soul 
 
 With kind paternal fond regard he then the silence broke, 
 And with calm meditative mood the Spirit stranger spoke: 
 
 'The war-horse with unreasoning fire will plunge into the field, 
 To him the slave of blind impulse no danger is revealed; 
 
 But thou — a soul, endowed with thought, reflective reasoning power 
 Must be imbued with strength divine — a Danae's golden shower 
 
 *'To plunge into the mouth of hell, defenceless and alone. 
 To face the horrors yet untold, or in thy dreams unknown ; 
 
 Hast thou e'er heard in solitude the deafening lion's roar, 
 
 Or met the monarch of the wood, his jaws bedewed with gore? 
 
 "Or heard the raging tiger's cry when cruel hands have wrung 
 From jungle, cliff or mountain cave the shrieking helpless young; 
 
 Hast thou e'er heard the deadly hiss, or marked the slimy crawl 
 Of serpents in the desert wilds — which did not thee appall? 
 
 **Hast thou e'er been pursued by wolves or felt the creeping death 
 Of wildcats, leopards, centipedes without a bated breath? 
 
 Then sound the depths where maddened souls rapacious more than these 
 Loud curse their fate, impatient, wild, for naught can them appease. 
 
 Twenty-Five 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 'The measure of success must be the strength of fortitude, 
 Thy will must like a fortress be, with spirit power imbued, 
 
 If men on earth could this truth know no foe could them assail 
 With hope to lead in captive chains, and o'er the soul prevail. 
 
 "Allow me to escort thee through the perils of the Shade, 
 Where phantoms glide and serried hosts in darkness are arrayed; 
 
 Where souls impervious to the smile of Light's unfolding ray 
 
 Breathe forth the forms of coarsest thought, which thus their state 
 betray." 
 
 With more than joy to find my friend had with my wish complied, 
 And now would shield me by his power, and be my spirit guide, 
 
 1 deprecated more delay, and begged him to proceed, 
 
 I had no word — my burning zeal was earnest of the need. 
 
 Our buoyant forms on ether poised could not to depths descend, 
 For culture and unfolded charms allurements gross transcend; 
 
 Absorbing then the elements, condensed — ^by will applied, 
 We clothed ourselves in cruder garb, and thus were fortified. 
 
 My wise companion's attributes seemed all combined in one, 
 Perception with its piercing eye stood forth a power alone; 
 
 Twenty-Six 
 
of a Soul 
 
 My crude perplexities of mind by him were sensed and known, 
 He, sensitive, intuitive, could make my thoughts his own. 
 
 He told me that the human soul was but the Thought ensphered, 
 The Universe was thus a Thought to human soul endeared ; 
 
 That Thought was all — naught else beside — no ancient Grecian sage 
 Or latter day philosopher its potency could gage. 
 
 The painter's life — the sculptor's love — the poet's spirit gleam, 
 
 Embodied in the thundercloud, or in the solar beam; 
 The essence of kind Nature's heart, the breath of joy and pain, 
 
 The mystery which was and is eternal to remain. 
 
 Take Thought from out the universe, existence then would be 
 
 An awful, empty,, senseless, void — no immortality 
 Could furnish opportunity to worlds on worlds unfold. 
 
 And breathe a living universe with benisons untold. 
 
 Down in those awful depths of night where darkened spirits dwell 
 'Tis Thought that makes that drear abode — a self-created hell; 
 
 The midnight shades but voice a state where thought is gloom-obscured 
 And till the light can penetrate the pain must be endured. 
 
 Twenty-Seven 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 THE JOURNEY TO THE REGIONS OF SHADE 
 Canto the Sixth 
 
 As twilight folds the last expiring ray 
 
 The deep'ning shades absorbed the light of day; 
 Dark as the noon of night without her stars, 
 
 Our progress questioned by impervious bars 
 Of clouds, so dense 'twas obvious my desire 
 
 To breast fierce storms and plunge through rolling fire 
 Must be subdued, repressed and sternly quelled, 
 
 No matter though each strenuous nerve rebelled; 
 But here my spirit friend with smiling mien, 
 
 On which a calm assurance could be seen. 
 Unfolded from his robe-enshrouded form 
 
 A ray, which gleamed like lightning through the storm; 
 And as a searchlight spreading far and wide 
 
 The radiant stream our pathway did divide; 
 Onward we went through desert, cave and wood, 
 
 'Mid yells and breathings that might freeze the blood ; 
 'Mid hisses, screams, and wails of deep despair; 
 
 'Mid wringing hands, and torn, dishevelled hair; 
 
 Twenty-Eight 
 
of a Soul 
 
 'Mid curses deep and fierce blaspheming cries ; 
 
 'Mid tears of blood, and sad desponding sighs ; 
 Assailed by hideous gruesome forms and sprites, 
 
 Oppressed by gloom, deprived of all delights; 
 My fortitude, complacence, strength of will 
 
 Could not that calm demeanor firm instill 
 Which my matured companion could display, 
 
 No outward horror did his face betray, 
 But kindly clasping both my fevered hands 
 
 He wrapped my aching soul in spirit bands ; 
 I smiled my gratitude — absorbed his power, 
 
 And gladly bathed in this magnetic shower. 
 With agonized appeal I gasped and turned 
 
 To my instructor, while my bosom burned, 
 Indignantly demanding why the soul 
 
 Should be subjected to enslaved control ! 
 For none but those whose hearts are petrified 
 
 Could bear the load of Horror's crimson tide; 
 Though human I would not consign a foe 
 
 To wade in fires of grief and depths of woe ; 
 Why were such passions placed within the breast, 
 
 Tw«nty-Nine 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 To there be nurtured as a spirit guest? 
 If man must render such a price for crime, 
 
 For deeds recorded on the scroll of time : 
 Why breathe a being — why this offspring brings 
 
 To curse his future and with tortures sting? 
 My guide perceived this rash impulsive scorn 
 
 Was but the heart by honest anguish torn; 
 The feeling native to an unschooled mind, 
 
 Which knowing not in ignorance repined ; 
 So soothing with his will my fevered brain, 
 
 He then philosophised in this wise strain: 
 
 "These awful thoughts thus mirrored on the deep 
 
 Reflective say that Conscience must not sleep ; 
 Though these unfortunates may writhe in pain. 
 
 The fire will not eternally obtain ; 
 But as the dross is melted from the gold, 
 
 The pristine wealth and beauty will unfold; 
 So from the birth-throes of the thought within 
 
 The soul divine will future conquests win ; 
 The 'powers that be' with love-knit heart and mind 
 
 Are wise and good but 'cruel to be kind/ 
 
 Thii'ty 
 
of a Soul 
 
 They know that action must the spirit save 
 
 From wasting death — or worlds become a grave ; 
 Without probation by this fierce ordeal 
 
 The soul would sleep, and thus would cease to feel 
 And as a child reposing on the breast, 
 
 Whose mind and will some hidden cause arrest 
 Can not fulfill the promise of the man, 
 
 W'hose silver peal rang forth when Time began, 
 The morbid soul like stagnant water's breath 
 
 Proclaims to all a prophecy of death ; 
 Pain is the signal that there's danger nigh, 
 
 And life depends upon the infant's cry. 
 When man impelled by impulse and desire. 
 
 Found if he would to higher realms aspire, 
 Must measure strength with all external forms, 
 
 And thus defy the fearful earthly storms^, 
 He left a home so tranquil and serene 
 
 That sweet ambrosial breath perfumed the scene; 
 To conquer all he sought a mortal birth, 
 
 And downward stepped to battlefields of earth; 
 So onward through the ages line by line. 
 
 Thirty-On« 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 Successive forms his thought would thus refine; 
 In coarsest garb demanding life and food 
 
 He v/aded on through sanguined fields of blood; 
 Till now — compared with times of self and greed 
 
 His promise claims a very God indeed ; 
 When all external foes shall be subdued, 
 
 And outward worlds shall be by soul imbued. 
 
 No living words breathed forth on tongues of fire 
 
 Can picture scenes where gloom-clad souls retire 
 When earth divests them of their borrowed plumes 
 
 They gravitate to realms where naught illumes 
 The dreary wilds where Self's dread Fetich reigns, 
 
 And Dead Sea fruit is all the soul retains. 
 To nurture and sustain remorse of thought, 
 
 And make amends for what was dearly bought; 
 Though touched by magnanimity to feel 
 
 That Retribution's heart is not all steel 
 Grim Horror's sweeping overwhelming surge 
 
 Seems sadly to intone Hope's funeral dirge ; 
 And dark Despair absorb the feeble rays, 
 
 Thirty-Two 
 
of a Soul 
 
 The kindly gleams of earth's most favored days. 
 Like Afric's woods that skirt the Central Line, 
 
 Where tropic suns and light disdain to shine, 
 The realms of gloom interminably spread, 
 
 The liquid poison dripping overhead. 
 Where lurking tyrants of the wood descry 
 
 The helpless prey which blindly wanders nigh; 
 As tropic storms in roaring thunder peal 
 
 Nature's unrest and man's distress reveal ; 
 As lightning's vivid flash proclaims the rage 
 
 Of forces striving fiercely to assuage 
 Antagonistic foes to human life. 
 
 And stir the various elements to strife, 
 Till salutary Change breathes life and balm, 
 
 And Revolution sleeps in normal calm — 
 As rolling ocean's vibrant active breath 
 
 Spurns from the atmosphere the germs of death. 
 And voices all the forms of human moods. 
 
 Throughout the boundless awful solitudes ; 
 So in that realm where settling thoughts descend 
 
 From earth, and with two worlds to interblend 
 
 Thirty-Thrt« 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 Too sordid, gross, to sense the spirit ray, 
 
 Or feel the purifying hght of day, 
 The storms and clouds the whirlwind's rage and hail, 
 
 Responsive to the thoughts that there prevail, 
 Thus show us by analogies unfurled, 
 
 Each man is regal in his little world. 
 
 Let us resume. The goal is not yet won. 
 
 But fogs will clear before our journey's done; 
 This my solution why incongruous laws 
 
 Seem so unjust and often give us pause 
 Will to a larger knowledge fruitful yield. 
 
 And much yet to be sensed is now concealed ; 
 We have but of this world the portal braved, 
 
 Where Thought's grim negative is dark engraved; 
 Prepare to meet embodied furious hell. 
 
 And scenes no prophet could to thee fortell." 
 Stern, bracing all the nerves that fear defy, 
 
 I summoned my resource to do or die. 
 The earthly predilections still applied. 
 
 And I forgot no soul has ever died; 
 
 Thirty-Four 
 
of a Soul 
 
 Down, deep immersed, our human living ray 
 
 Made midnight seem like cheerful opening day; 
 But all around the fetid clammy air 
 
 Was vibrant with the sounds that voice despair ; 
 The croaking frogs in swamps and stagnant pools, 
 
 Which border homes of phantoms, ghosts and ghouls; 
 The roars and howls, the snarl, the screech and squeal, 
 
 More dreadful than the tropic thunder peal ; 
 All symbolised what he who runs may read, 
 
 The revelation of each thought and deed. 
 
 Thirty-P^v« 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 DESCRIPTION OF VOLITIONLESS SPIRITS 
 
 Canto the Seventh 
 
 Our progress now was marked by scenes of change, 
 
 The prospect drear comprised a wider range ; 
 We seemed to sink to strata dense and lone, 
 
 As though we hovered o'er the frigid zone ; 
 Such piercing cold was borne upon the breeze 
 
 As greets the mariner in Arctic seas ; 
 Where congealed masses float with dreary sound, 
 
 And freeze the atmosphere for miles around. 
 The muffled echo of the ocean's roar 
 
 Reverberated from the rock-bound shore; 
 The howling wind with fury uncontrolled 
 
 Dashed the wild spray against the headlands bold ; 
 The dismal clouds enshrouded like a pall 
 
 The watery waste, which reared its living wall. 
 And hurled its rage insulting to the sky, 
 
 Which dense obscured responded with a sigh; 
 Yet unappeased it then would outward reach, 
 
 And spend its anger on the shingly beach. 
 
 Thirty-Six 
 
of a Soul 
 
 Upon a rock promontory we stood, 
 
 And gazed in wonder on the fretting flood ; 
 When, lo, the dark appeared as less obscure, 
 
 A twiHght dawned ; but would it thus endure ? 
 This glow-worm hue was not the solar ray. 
 
 No radiant orb could here proclaim the day; 
 It must proceed from human mental moods. 
 
 Expressing feeling where no self obtrudes. 
 Thrilled by the storm and wildly sweeping surge, 
 
 Which like the feeling on Niag'ra's verge 
 Impels the human to plunge headlong down 
 
 From rocky cliff or precipice's crown 
 My nature rushed, and forthwith would embrace 
 
 Those elements in which we kindred trace; 
 But in a moment I resumed control. 
 
 And in this sphere was master of the whole ; 
 My gaze transfixed I had not yet discerned 
 
 What made the light until I eager turned, 
 And there beheld a wide-extending plain. 
 
 Which seemed obscured by driftwood from the main; 
 
 Thirty-Seven 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 As far as eye could see in light subdued, 
 
 The rays by keen perspective sight pursued, 
 Revealed what I supposed a battlefield. 
 
 Where thousands had succumbed to slavish yield 
 Ambition's tribute to the Moloch war, 
 
 Or grace some conqueror's auspicious star. 
 To some who might the distant prospect view, 
 
 Twould seem a holocaust of Waterloo; 
 A Sedan aftermath, or Gettysburg; 
 
 Proclaiming Conflict's devasting surge. 
 These were the souls who'd been on earth before 
 
 They now were stranded on the spirit shore ; 
 Though lifeless and inert they could not die, 
 
 But must conform — with spirit laws comply; 
 The flame within on earth had been obscured, 
 
 And chastening conscience now must be endured. 
 Or inactivity would e'er betide — 
 
 A worse calamity than all beside. 
 But whence the light? The problem still unsolved, 
 
 Whose wise solution yet so much involved. 
 I looked again — when passing to and fro, 
 
 Thirty-Eight 
 
of a Soul 
 
 Hope's angel ministers were seen to go; 
 The merciful evangels of our kind, 
 
 Which make us grateful for such ties that bind, 
 And proudly hail the prophecy of Good, 
 
 The high emprise — united brotherhood. 
 Those noble souls whose mission so divine 
 
 Is like the gleams which from the spirit shine, 
 Were living lamps to desolation round. 
 
 And glory shed in souls thus darkly bound, 
 Elysian beauty gleamed where death and gloom 
 
 Seemed hov'ring o'er the portals of the tomb; 
 Responsive to the life — imparting breath. 
 
 These forms awoke from what was living death; 
 The kindly thought — the hand's magnetic charm 
 
 Accelerated circulation warm. 
 These surgeons of the spirit health diffused. 
 
 And fluids that had heretofore refused 
 To course through channels once with vigor fired 
 
 Were vibrant charged, and soulfully inspired. 
 
 Thirty-Nine 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 Descending' to the plain I too would merge 
 
 My thoughts to bless this flotsam of the surge 
 But earthly ties forbade me to pursue 
 
 Prolonged exertion, as there might ensue 
 Some complications with my mortal frame, 
 
 Some loss which I could not again reclaim ; 
 So bidding these kind friends a fond adieu, 
 
 Our enterprise prospective we renew. 
 
 Forty 
 
o/ a Soul 
 
 THE SPIRITUAL CONDITION OF THE MATERIALIST 
 Canto the Eighth 
 
 Upon the pinions of the will we soared to heights afar. 
 Where winter's armies concentrate in elemental war; 
 
 No eagle's wing on ether borne could with that will compare, 
 Which poised us and impelled us forth on circumambient air. 
 
 A castled home loomed in our view upon a mountain side, 
 
 Bedecked with pearls and ice festoons — with silver tintings dyed; 
 
 An avalanche of glaciers hoar imposing and austere 
 Insinuated constantly a doom approaching near. 
 
 An imdulating- icy plane beneath us we descried, 
 
 Like ocean waves by cold congealed, a frost-arrested tide; 
 
 The winding streams with glassy gaze were voiceless now and still, 
 A tribute to the power of thought and man's imperious will. 
 
 The roaring cascade leaping from the precipices' brow 
 
 Would dash the spray in sportive moods as from the vessel's prow; 
 
 That spray besprinkled all around by coldest piercing breeze 
 Would cling despairing to the leaves and freeze upon the trees. 
 
 Forty-One 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 The sky obscured by densest clouds suffused with bounteous snow 
 Seemed brooding o'er that cheerless waste — the wilderness below; 
 
 But just above the mountain tops the deepest, greenest blue, 
 
 Was earnest of a glorious dawn when light should beacon through. 
 
 Twas beautiful, yes beautiful, but with the hue of death. 
 
 For Nature here would seem to yield her last and parting breath; 
 
 No lovely flower redeeming smiled as harbinger of spring. 
 No cold exacting intellect could consolation bring. 
 
 Approaching through the columned aisle three thoughtful men appeared, 
 Whose life work might be classified as Intellect revered; 
 
 On earth esthetic spirit themes they hated and despised; 
 
 They thought the yearning of the soul was slavery disguised. 
 
 So sternly positive to that which might the mind enthrall 
 They crucified creative thought, and spread a funeral pall 
 
 O'er all that rendered human life a benison divine 
 The clouds of dogma overspread and dimmed the spirit shine. 
 
 These agnostic philosophers were heart-sick, sad and worn, 
 They longed to leave this dreary land so cheerless and forlorn ; 
 
 Forty-Two 
 
of a Soul 
 
 My guide found them amenable — to reason he appealed, 
 By symbols and analogies the truth to them revealed. 
 
 He told them they must now dissolve the frozen fount within, 
 If they would peace and happiness incontinently win; 
 
 The wilderness was but themselves objectively displayed, 
 It spoke of soul-starvation, and a holy trust betrayed. 
 
 If they would modify the cold and fertile fields restore. 
 Be well-advised and firm resolved to sufifer thus no more. 
 
 They must participate with those who bask in woman's smile, 
 And sunshine would delightfully their loneliness beguile. 
 
 The love of mental freedom was commendable indeed, 
 But one-idead intolerance their progress would impede; 
 
 The pendulum might oscillate more freely than they knew. 
 And cause the mind to deviate from thoughts exact and true. 
 
 Eliminate the evil Self, and live to bless mankind, 
 Embrace all spirit culture that can elevate the mind; 
 
 The narrow-gauged infatuate clad in a coat of mail 
 
 Can ne'er unfold the light within or o'er himself prevail. 
 
 Forty-Three 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 But he who like the flower unfolds his petals to the day 
 Will breathe a perfume which will all his kindest acts repay; 
 
 His world will smile responsive to the sunshine from within. 
 And altruistic sacrifice will richest harvests win. 
 
 The Intellect and Sympathy must closely interblend. 
 If souls would to the higher realms aspiringly ascend; 
 
 The mind may like a sponge absorb the elements impure, 
 But Sympathy creates a joy which ever will endure. 
 
 Thus speaking words of comfort with the heart's sincerest yearn, 
 We bade farewell : they begged that we would soon to them return ; 
 
 With warm congratulations — with resolves of great emprise, 
 We parted knowing that these souls were on the upward rise. 
 
 A glow of true — not vainest pride afforded me delight, 
 
 For I could now discriminate between the bloom and blight; 
 
 That all external forms which I reflectiveless had viewed 
 Were voiceless thoughts — a compensate karmic similitude. 
 
 In my most philosophic moods I ne'er before had known 
 That worlds objective drew their life from human thought alone; 
 
 Forty-Four 
 
of a Soul 
 
 That Nature's charms — her might and power were but the soul diffused, 
 The tacit claim that One controlled my reason had abused. 
 
 In meditation thus I mused why should there not be more 
 
 Than One, whom men in mortal form still worship and adore; 
 
 Why should not Man the Infinite monopolize the claim, 
 And thus possess all attributes — eternally the same? 
 
 The caterpillar prophesies the gorgeous butterfly, 
 
 Our aspirations on the earth the God within imply; 
 Our brethren in supernal spheres with glory undescribed, 
 
 Breathe forth all we have ever yet to Deity ascribed. 
 
 The earth was once a spirit thought, 'tis now materialized, 
 Subservient to the human will controlled and supervised; 
 
 It mirrors forth in symbolled sheen reflections just and true, 
 Man sighs in pain and Nature sighs and voices anguish, too. 
 
 So truly are external things a reflex of the thought, 
 
 The mirror of internal power upon the world outwrought, 
 
 That in secluded realms of shade we heard the convent bell 
 Of those who "hope to merit heaven by making earth a hell." 
 
 Forty-Five 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 The monks and nuns in cloistered aisles secluded from the view 
 Their awful lonely vigil still monotonous pursue; 
 
 In sable garb suggestive of the charnel house and grave, 
 Expecting thus by penal fires their shrunken souls to save. 
 
 The sunshine of the purest joy that healthy natures crave 
 Is shunned for hermit's dreary cell or gloomy mountain cave ; 
 
 The pulsings of the feminine within the soul confined 
 Are crushed beneath the incubus that buries heart and mind. 
 
 Forty-Six 
 
of a Soul 
 
 THE SUICIDE 
 Canto the Ninth 
 
 Remote, retired, secure from prying ken, 
 
 From out a cot deep in a lonesome glen, 
 Some power mysterious intimation gave, 
 
 Through telepathic breath or psychic wave, 
 An eloquent and plaintive mute appeal, 
 
 A soul required a friend — one who could feel. 
 We sensed the impact, with the wish complied. 
 
 An audience sought, and forthwith went inside; 
 A wasted form with furtive vision lowered. 
 
 Before our kindly meant attentions cowered; 
 Alas, she vainly thought her acts concealed 
 
 A double crime, which was to us revealed; 
 A victim of desertion most unjust 
 
 Man's cruel perfidy and woman's trust; 
 She, maddened by humiliation's pain, 
 
 Had killed her child, and then herself had slain ; 
 E'er she had done this ''deed without a name" 
 
 Her soul was darkened by a life of shame; 
 
 Forty-Sevei 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 And now remorse her guilty conscience seared. 
 
 Her sorrow — Grief personified appeared. 
 Was this the suicide? I'd oft been told 
 
 No language could its tale of woe unfold; 
 The terse descriptions of the fluent few 
 
 Could not its horrors paint in thought review ; 
 The awful pangs of haunting grim remorse, 
 
 Because the disciplines of earth life's course 
 Had been diverted from their primal aim, 
 
 And Contrast was denied its lawful claim; 
 Yet here the basic structure dimly seen, 
 
 Was silent witness of what once had been ; 
 The breathings of a maidhood good and pure, 
 
 Showed this infliction would not long endure. 
 Extenuating circumstance would plead, 
 
 And Compensation's law would ever heed 
 Those stern monitions of the faithful — true, 
 
 And equal justice with the right pursue; 
 The tourist, who upon the bord'ring walls 
 
 Caught up the child and held it o'er the falls. 
 Not dreaming that his charge would struggle free, 
 
 And plunge headlong into that boiling sea, 
 
 Forty-Eight 
 
of a Soul 
 
 Obedient to the madd'ning impulse wild 
 
 Dashed o'er the cliff to grasp the sinking child 
 Would that exonerating peace receive 
 
 Denied to him who Hved but to deceive; 
 And who in selfish rage tore down the veil, 
 
 Regardless of the foes that might assail, 
 And question deeds he'd meet in that unknown, 
 
 Those thoughts of one who'd lived for self alone. 
 The measure of reprisals would accord 
 
 With potent deeds, and not the spoken word, 
 Men speak of courage by the wretch displayed 
 
 Who bares his breast to self-destruction's blade. 
 But he who can adversity defy 
 
 Is greater far than he who longs to die; 
 To forfeit all the treasures earth supplies, 
 
 Be stung by scorpions in the thought-clad guise; 
 He flies from foes he must again assail. 
 
 And fight the issues till he does prevail. 
 Yes, once this home had been by love embowered, 
 
 With early innocence and sweetness showered; 
 But now where had bloomed Beauty's fairest flower 
 
 Forty-Nine 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 Deep sombre hues announced the midnight hour ; 
 Though richest prophecies were here displayed, 
 
 All were in sable gloomy garb arrayed; 
 Though Hope with smiles of joy seemed standing by, 
 
 Her features were distorted, and the sigh 
 Which rent the breast of her who trod through fire, 
 
 Spoke eloquent of mental torments dire; 
 Until the restitution had been made. 
 
 And compensation had been fully paid, 
 No salutary peace for deepest pain 
 
 The erring spirit could expect to gain. 
 
 >{,*** Hs * * 
 
 Her wounds received our soul-suffusing balm. 
 And turbulence succumbed to gentle calm; 
 
 Hope's sweetest smile illumined her aching breast 
 And that distracted spirit was at rest. 
 
 Fifty 
 
of a Soul 
 
 THE DEAD SEA FRUIT OF SELFISHNESS 
 Canto the Tenth 
 
 What made assurance doubly sure that man must not repose 
 Supine in ease and indolence a prey to selfish foes — 
 
 That naught is so menacing to the spirit's native weal 
 As morbid cold indifference — a heart that cannot feel — 
 
 Was forcibly exemplified as we approached more near 
 
 The home of one whose awful fate forbade the pendant tear — 
 
 Across the barren desert plane with wrecks of life bestrewed 
 The hurricane and thunderstorm their sweeping path pursued. 
 
 The driving rain, the roaring wind — the cold and piercing hail, 
 The howl of wolves went rolling on in one most dismal wail ; 
 
 The chatt'ring magpie, snarling fox, the wild-cat's frantic glee 
 All voiced the mental world evolved with wild inharmony. 
 
 Grim ruminations of the Self would with the heart colHde, 
 Like icy floes in northern seas that crush the vessel's side ; 
 
 Regardless of the rights of man the petty tricks of trade 
 Of aspirations fair and good he menial servants made. 
 
 Fifty-One 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 With supercilious cold disdain he bitterly despised 
 
 All those whom Fashion and its world had proudly ostracised; 
 
 The mind attuned to mental chimes sweet as a silver bell 
 Was but perverted worth to him — fit for a hermit's cell. 
 
 And Poetry — the Hfe of joy, fled from his icy breath, 
 
 She could not bear to breathe in such an atmosphere of death ; 
 
 Where sordid pride and pompous show a sumptuous banquet spread. 
 And music swelled in solemn tones the requiem of the dead. 
 
 The merry prattling of a child — that symphony divine — 
 
 The gambols of those forms of life which round our hearts entwine ; 
 
 The thrilling speechless charm of that sweet minstrel of the sky, 
 This fossilized infatuate would heedlessly pass by. 
 
 The cause of all this great unrest this human thought congealed, 
 Now shrunk beneath our steadfast gaze an abject wretch revealed; 
 
 His form attenuated — thin — a skeleton indeed, 
 
 A victim bound in slavish chains by that grim monster Greed. 
 
 His love of wealth had all absorbed — he loved himself alone, 
 For poor, distressed humanity he sympathy had none; 
 
 Fifty-Two 
 
of a Soul 
 
 Like fabled Midas everything he touched would turn to gold, 
 Except the food which gormandized a nature stern and cold. 
 
 The hollow forms conventional had so enwrapped him round. 
 And pious cant, affected worth, his spirit darkly bound; 
 
 That now when all duplicity was merciless revealed 
 
 The real man — ^the tyrant — could no longer be concealed. 
 
 Yet oh, how anxiously he strove the skeleton to hide. 
 To gild and make presentable the fabrics of his pride; 
 
 But Karma's nemesis will e'er despise what man assumes, 
 
 And loud announce that all these robes are only borrowed plumes. 
 
 Possessing wealth was not a crime had it not him possessed. 
 And ev'ry glorious attribute remorselessly obsessed; 
 
 The spirit bound by luxury forfeits its lawful claim, 
 
 And thus retards the purpose true for which to earth it came. 
 
 To revel in these gross delights he heartlessly betrayed 
 An unsophisticated pure and unsuspecting maid; 
 
 She, scorned, despised and shunned by all in anguish driven wild 
 Laid violent hands upon herself and on her helpless child. 
 
 Fifty-Thre« 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 His tattered rags were tightly clasped around his freezing form, 
 As shiv'ring in the biting blast he cowered before the storm ; 
 
 With agonizing vibrant nerves no rest nor peace had he, 
 They bid defiance to the charm of soul tranquillity. 
 
 My guide stepped forth with hand upheld and an imperious will, 
 Demanding that the frenzied nerves should now be calm and still ; 
 
 The wretch must sleep beneath the charm of this hypnotic spell, 
 And while in this abnormal state he would his story tell. 
 
 'Twas briefly told ; and when he showed contrition so sincere. 
 And vowed that all his pompous pride no longer should appear, 
 
 But true compliance he would grant to all we might desire. 
 And upward now his earnest soul should constantly aspire 
 
 Obedient to the wish expressed by my most faithful friend 
 
 I sought the woman whom we'd met that she might now attend 
 
 Upon this convalescent soul, who was oblivious now, 
 
 And she would place the wreath of Love upon his burning brow. 
 
 My guide by intuition felt who was the woman scorned. 
 And thus his work so nobly done with Wisdom had adorned ; 
 
 Fifty-Four 
 
o/ a Soul 
 
 The contrast Love must conquer Hate the wronged must also server 
 No stern, resentful feeling should the well-poised soul observe. 
 
 Restored to wakeful consciousness we left the spirit purged 
 
 From selfish dross ; and two glad souls in sympathy were merged^ 
 
 We told them that to others bless on earth or spirit spheres 
 Would dissipate the dismal clouds and furnish hopes for fears. 
 
 "How strange," thought I, "the spirit world should be so unrefined, 
 
 Was this hallucination or illusions of the mind?" 
 "Not so," my spirit friend replied, as though to spoken words, 
 
 "Each outward semblance with the thought of grosser man accords, 
 
 "Primeval man when first incarn upon the mortal world 
 
 Had thoughts which percolating through were not with beauty 
 pearled ; 
 
 The furnace fires of higher light their forms could not enflame 
 Imperious to esthetic life their breath was much the same. 
 
 "Though there are souls with garments dark as is the raven's wing, 
 
 Apparently a hopeless sign of spirit blossoming, 
 Yet others with such glory shine bright as the noon-day sun, 
 
 Beyond compare with those who have their pilgrimage begun. 
 
 EHfty-I'ive 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 "These more unfolded mighty powers with attributes divine 
 Will soon accord us audience and problems deep define ; 
 
 But first we must with vigor charge the form you left behind, 
 To stimulate its latent force the particles to bind." 
 
 'Twere long to tell the incidents encountered on return, 
 We viewed with satisfaction my receptacle inurn; 
 
 The sentinel was not apprised — our advent was unknown. 
 So there was no necessity our journey to postpone. 
 
 rifty-six 
 
o/ a Soul 
 
 THE SPIRITUAL CONDITION OF AN EMINENT DIVINE 
 
 Canto the Eleventh 
 
 Bathed in pellucid cleansing floods rich with magnetic fire,. 
 
 Divested of those coarser robes which had been my attire, 
 With pure aspiring thoughts I yearned — exhaled my latent power, 
 
 Breathed forth an auric atmosphere to greet the spirit shower. 
 
 Deemed worthy by the past ordeal my soul might upward tend, 
 To those supernal glorious heights I now would fain ascend; 
 
 I longed to breast the ether's wave — to enter worlds unseen, 
 
 Those dazzling realms that lie beyond our dim perspective screen. 
 
 All preparations now complete, my guide with prescient mind 
 Assured me that despite my hopes I'd disappointment find; 
 
 That there I should be overwhelmed and speechless in amaze. 
 The blazing glory of those worlds would scorch my eager gaze. 
 
 That some were bright — so glorified the tropic solar orb 
 Would pale its ineffective light; and all the less absorb 
 
 In that intense creative glow from souls just like our own, 
 The prophecy of God — Man power — each soul a God alone. 
 
 Fifty-Seven 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 And eager though of course I'd be to know what lies beyond 
 My unreceptive powers could not to such impulse respond ; 
 
 Thus bhndness would defeat the claim, and baffled zeal retire, 
 'Twould easier be to boldly wade through floods of rolling fire. 
 
 On through rich Paradisic scenes of rapture and delight, 
 
 Each veil dissolving marked a world revealed to spirit sight; 
 
 The rushing ether coursing through suffused my pulse and vein, 
 'Twas like the charm of incensed morn which early thoughts retain. 
 
 That fragrant breeze of dawning day; the air's transparent hue, 
 
 When lights and shades clear bright and pure shone deep beneath the blue ; 
 
 Oft I had longed to reproduce, and their romance retain, 
 That this impress upon the soul forever might remain. 
 
 Away beyond the atmosphere and tension of the earth 
 
 Were thought embodiments of souls rich with intrinsic worth; 
 
 With beauties rare, attenuate, ambrosial and refined, 
 
 Fair as transparent summer clouds which float upon the wind. 
 
 Translucent in the golden sheen of bright etherial dyes 
 There loomed imposing to the view in sacerdotal guise 
 
 Pifty-Elght 
 
o/ a Soul 
 
 An edifice, majestic reared, responsive to a mind 
 
 Whose great divine self-sacrifice a life of love defined. 
 
 A hallowing- serenity and solemn stillness reigned, 
 
 A restful peace and tranquil charm in speechless awe obtained; 
 
 I felt suppressive diffidence which courtiers oft display, 
 When royal consorts mingle in magnificent array. 
 
 Yet this was no ostentate show true feeling to belie, 
 
 No humbler, nobler, kinder soul evolved a smile or sigh ; 
 
 Than he whom millions still revere with unassuming pride, 
 The founder of a sect which has a potency world wide. 
 
 So much was he imbued on earth with Jewish thought and lore 
 That all his leisure hours would he o'er Sacred Scriptures pore; 
 
 And now his home the semblance gave of concepts entertained. 
 And voiced the images his mind tenacious had retained. 
 
 The weird fantastic visions of St. John's Apocalypse, 
 
 Which often would illume with fire his soul-inspired lips; 
 
 Now mirrored in ideal form the loves of long ago, 
 
 This measure of such sacred art was all he wished to know. 
 
 Fifty-Niaje 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 We entered through the gates of pearl those symbols outward bom, 
 The highest type of beauty which could such a home adorn ; 
 
 A fountain arched with rainbow hues threw round its silver spray, 
 Reflecting from its vibrant joy the glorious light of day. 
 
 That fountain and transparent pearls were sensitive indeed, 
 
 In their translucent crystal depths were shadowed thought and deed; 
 
 Each mental mood was thus returned to introspective loon.'s 
 
 Demanding pure and purer thought which thus the soul illumes. 
 
 Tlie leaves of trees, the plants and flowers seemed conscious of their joy.. 
 
 Comparison with earthly charms was contrast with alloy; 
 The tinted petal leaf and gem gleamed with celestial fire. 
 
 Announcing each a prophecy of Love's sincere desire. 
 
 From farther distance faintly borne was heard the organ's peal. 
 And melodies of birds and streams would o'er the spirit steal; 
 
 All blent in harmony divine one sacred vocal song, 
 
 Such music though unknown on earth to spirit choirs belong. 
 
 Away far off — away was seen the pearly purpling sea. 
 
 Its murmurs, moans and plaintive sighs instinct with melody; 
 
 Sixty 
 
of a Soul 
 
 No painter's brush could e'er depict this bright celestial gleam, 
 This radiant glow was richer far than poet's fairy dream. 
 
 Enrobed in garments pure and white as is the driven snow, 
 Our host a smiling welcome gave with fervent kindly glow; 
 
 My heart went out in gratitude to one so grand in soul, 
 
 Proud of that kinship which will live while future ages roll. 
 
 Though altruistic — always loth to others supersede, 
 And for the helpless weaker cause he'd ever intercede, 
 
 The exigencies of the mind the course which thought demands 
 Had not for him prerogative or absolute commands. 
 
 Convictions on religious themes were final, and revealed 
 A fiat from Divinity from which he ne'er appealed, 
 
 No matter though the race might be chamelion in its range^, 
 Religion with the mortal thought could never interchange. 
 
 My guide would gently remonstrate, for larger compass plead. 
 Our host would still be obdurate, and reason would not heed; 
 
 Polemics controversial my interest aroused, 
 
 But with my deepest sympathy progressive thought espoused. 
 
 Sixty-One 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 My friend then bid me testify as witness for his cause. 
 
 That mental life to be maintained must yield to certain laws; 
 
 And cited illustrations from the realms of deepest shade, 
 To which we had so lately an important journey made. 
 
 There we had found the deepest hell where souls were fast asleep, 
 So morbid, lifeless, cold, inert, they could not smile or weep. 
 
 More hopeful was the fiercest rage the horror of remorse, 
 ihan dull insipid states of those who seemed but living corse. 
 
 Invulnerable lines of thought were graveyards of the soul, 
 By paralizing, haunting fears which o'er the pulses roll, 
 
 The pliant limbs are bound and cramped by fetters darkly bound. 
 And spirit treasures all in vain their blossoms spread around. 
 
 To compromise and thus avoid the fabled flames of hell, 
 That grim delusion which had spread its ossifying spell; 
 
 The timid, tremblinp s>"0' int surrenders manly pride. 
 And thus believes the innocent for his atonement died. 
 
 No court in an enlightened land in justice could receive 
 Atonement by the innocent the guilty to reprieve; 
 
 Sixty-TvsTQ. 
 
of a Soul 
 
 His is the coward's heart who would incontinent recline, 
 And place responsibihty on human or divine. 
 
 Atonement — inspiration — or a sacred book and creed 
 Man throned in bis divinity ^nd Godhead does not need; 
 
 A source of inspiration he possesses all beside, 
 
 And is his own redeemer though a thousand martyrs died. 
 
 Man fell not once but countless times ; by falling he ascends ; 
 
 No curse divine the new-born child in innocence attends : 
 And heaven is not locality — 'tis but a state of mind; 
 
 The mortal form once cast aside can ne'er the spirit bind. 
 
 There is no death ; 'tis but a birth to more unfolded worlds ; 
 
 The Judgment is when man's great soul its flag of thought unfurls ; 
 Immortal life is not a gift; 'tis an eternal Now; 
 
 No God did e'er that vital flame with life divine endow. 
 
 The food administered to babes is not strong meat for men ; 
 
 The thought absorbed by those matured transcends the childhood's ken ; 
 As change of climate — change of scene the earthly man transforms 
 
 The mental strenuosity to might and power conforms. 
 
 Sixty-Thvee 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 Considerate and affable they thus their views exchanged. 
 My guide o'er fields debatable persistent widely ranged ; 
 
 The controversial element was plastic, wide and free; 
 The sacred charge he must defend was mental liberty. 
 
 With royal hospitality our host unwearied served, 
 
 A keen and selfless jealous care was constantly preserved ; 
 
 Each want precise, anticipate, evoked our fond regard, 
 
 And mutual blessings interchanged completed our reward. 
 
 We bade farewell ; but circling round our heartstrings were entwined^ 
 
 A telepathic sympathy was permanent defined ; 
 We must resume our search for light which he could not supply, 
 
 Though parting thus from such a friend should make the spirit sigh. 
 
 SiKty-Four 
 
of a Soul 
 
 THE SPIRITUAL HOME OF THE INTELLECTUAL 
 PHILOSOPHER 
 
 Canto the Twelfth 
 
 ''1 offer you glad welcome^ friends, who seek the golden fleece; 
 
 Your kind attentions wean the mind, and give to me surcease 
 From that one stern absorbing thought which holds me in its thrall, 
 
 I fear I am specific when I should embrace the all/' 
 
 Such was the greeting we received from one whom all admire, 
 That great, gigantic intellect which labor could not tire ; 
 
 That mighty revolutionist the firebrand of his age, 
 
 Who made impress indelible on Time's recording page. 
 
 A peaceful revolutionist, a firebrand to the world, 
 
 Where Superstition and Despair their blood-red flags unfurled; 
 
 A Savior in the realm of mind : a martyr to the true ; 
 A resurrecting factor: and a bolt from out the blue. 
 
 How strange were his surroundings, there was spread before our view 
 A symbol of unfoldment from the Old up to the New, 
 
 From protoplastic elements — from moneron to man, 
 
 All forms were represented since the earthly world began 
 
 Sixty-Five 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 To dovetail with the fondest dreams this thinker oft had known, 
 Invertebrate and vertebrate a species blent had shown ; 
 
 That Something vital yet unknown had modified — refined; 
 And from the inorganic had evolved the human mind. 
 
 Consistent with hypotheses assumed and thus implied, 
 A system of philosophy this master had supplied ; 
 
 Despite the limitations — lack of data, spite of laws, 
 
 He cherished suppositions of a life — spontaneous cause. 
 
 **Yet I do not maintain," said he, ''there should be no appeal 
 From my conceptions — nay, I know, and cannot now conceal 
 
 The morbid unreceptive which esthetic moods becloud; 
 I have not that perception with which poets are endowed. 
 
 'This sense now dormant, to revive I often visit friends. 
 
 Two poets whom I most admire whose sweetest thought commends 
 
 My unexpressed sincere regard: a rousing vibrant strain. 
 
 Which I have hopes will soon restore perception once again. 
 
 'The great immortal Byron, and his friend of world-wide fame. 
 Ethereal Shelley — sweetest soul that e'er bore earthly name ; 
 
 Sixty-Six 
 
of a Soul 
 
 Oh, how I wish you two could breathe their atmosphere of joy! 
 To justice do you must a new vocabulary employ. 
 
 ''Contemporary on the earth their spheres are now estranged, 
 
 But mutual relationship is often interchanged; 
 They love to hurl anathemas at my distinctive claim, 
 
 And frankly, in parenthesis, they wonder at my fame. 
 
 ''To banter with hyperbole friend Byron does not tire, 
 But Shelley's a philosopher, enthused with living fire ; 
 
 He storms my fortress with a will commendable, indeed, 
 And logic jostles rhetoric, but neither will recede. 
 
 "As morbid earth dyspeptics must inhale the sea's ozone 
 
 When poison thoughts of worry merge the horrors all in one, 
 As mental recreation seeks a change of clime and scene — 
 Appeals to the conviction, and supplies the happy mean, 
 
 "I hunger for the thrill and charm of Byron's might and power, 
 To bathe in floods of rapture in a grand magnetic shower, 
 
 To feel the health-imparting breeze upon the mountains lone, 
 And sense the sweetest music from the ocean's sigh or moan. 
 
 Sixty-Sevet 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 'Through woods of pensive solitude — ^through fields of silken green. 
 On toppling crags we sense the moods — the violent and serene; 
 
 Each impulse gives majestic form, or sheen of summer cloud. 
 Obedient to that active soul with vital force endowed. 
 
 "These crystallized creations in symbolic form belie 
 
 The fierce misrepresentings, and his mortal foes defy ; 
 His mind is as a fountain from which living waters flow. 
 
 Colossal in its grandeur, and a life to those below. 
 
 "But Shelley breathes an atm.osphere too rarefied for me, 
 As mountaineers may use their lungs to their extremity : 
 
 I feel out of my element in that most glorious world, 
 
 A region where festoons of love are round the spirit pearled. 
 
 "The pulsings of his life evolve a transformation scene. 
 
 Where e'er his smile may rest will be a light where shade has been ; 
 
 His oceans, dyed with rainbow hues, respond to clouds on high, 
 Which, like a Turk's pavilion, float across the azure sky. 
 
 "The forms of life which still he needs are gentle and refined. 
 
 An adverse breath would seem to spread these treasures on the wind ; 
 
 Sixty-Eight 
 
of a Soul 
 
 From warblers in the bosky dells the music trills along, 
 And nightingales with vocal joy attune the air to song. 
 
 "'The colored suns that shine upon the gorgeous Milky Way, 
 And beautify the stellar worlds with many-tinted ray 
 
 Produce a richer radiance than the tongue can e'er portray, 
 
 But thought transcends in beauty e'en the glorious light of day. 
 
 "When vital force evaporates too freely from within, 
 
 And form-creative substance must the equal conquest win, 
 
 Appealingly, dependently, he clasps that form divine — 
 
 That gentle soul around whose heart his love will e'er entwine. 
 
 ''Magnetic reciprocity is ever thus maintained, 
 
 But when he has absorbed and thus the complement regained, 
 
 Both yearn intense, aspiringly, and from the Central Sun 
 
 Promethean fire and thoug-ht and power is forthwith freely won, 
 
 ''No languid, weary, grim despair can breathe where they respire. 
 Two souls with purpose one and true — with one sincere desire ; 
 
 Two hearts that beat in unison, with one devoted claim, 
 The complemented counterparts — eternally the same. 
 
 Sixty-Nin< 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 ''This Connoisseur of Nature, in his element secure, 
 
 Would hurl at me thought-lightning which I could not there endure; 
 But 'neath my vine and figtree like an Ajax I'd defy — 
 
 In self-assurance would depend upon the weapons nigh. ♦ 
 
 *'He said that our continued life was fatal to my cause, 
 That I had been regardless of most potent spirit laws ; 
 
 Spontaneous generation never did nor would obtain. 
 Repeated incarnations would elaboration gain. 
 
 "My zeal, the despot tyrant of the ages to dethrone, 
 
 Ignored the human spirit which had made the world its own ; 
 
 That spirit percolating through and nestling all around 
 
 Was Life ; that 'force' which men like me had such a problem found. 
 
 "To be consistent with my cause, my mind should be diffused ; 
 
 And not maintain integrity — it should have been infused ; 
 And not be individual, but on the viewless wind, 
 
 The "spark" would thus become absorbed — and home would never find, 
 
 "If life organic could proceed from inorganic forms. 
 
 And protoplasmic elements to God-like power conforms, 
 
 geventy , ..._ , 
 
o/ a Soul 
 
 If Shakespeare's mind was thus evolved by mortal Nature's laws, 
 That mind would thus disintegrate — back to its primal causes 
 
 "No forms of life their impress leave on Nature's printed page^ 
 
 Anterior to that time, remote the past Silurian age : 
 These fossil tomes do not record, nor do they thus infer 
 
 That all the types preceding had one common ancestor. 
 
 "But all the higher types and forms that function down to man 
 
 Were there embalmed, and naught beside, since time on earth began; 
 
 No species could with others merge, all were distinctive shown, 
 No change or interfusive course had ever yet been known. 
 
 "Of course the Hebrew record was most puerile and absurd, 
 That God said this, and God said that, and all obeyed his word; 
 
 But while impatient we denounce barbaric wordy whirls, 
 
 We may despise the loathsome mud and throw away the pearls. 
 
 "By logic, reason, common sense, and exact science, too. 
 Refuting my deductions, he could prove they were not true ; 
 
 Here in the realm of spirit, he, though limited — ensphered, 
 
 Could breathe out living forms of thought as on the earth appeared. 
 
 % Seven ty^One 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 "Forthwith he wove a magic spell, and spreading forth his hand 
 A warbling bird and butterfly obeyed his stern command ; 
 
 The bird pealed forth its melody, the gorgeous butterfly, 
 A thing of beauty, life and power, went gaily flutt'ring by. 
 
 "He thus maintained that human minds while earth was in its spring 
 Could from their own surroundings forms of life 'material' bring; 
 
 That modifying changing scenes^ refinement of the whole 
 Was solely due to potent thought, and human soul control. 
 
 "Though morning breezes dissipate the clouds which light obscures. 
 Those breezes are not parts of clouds — identity endures ; 
 
 Nor do the clouds become absorbed, and live in solar ray, 
 But all combine in one accord to Nature tribute pay. 
 
 "No jelly-fish evolved a thought, nor monkey made a man, 
 When spirit formed environment his race on earth began ; 
 
 The monkey gave him mortal robes, but mind was never born, 
 This travesty on intellect deserves our silent scorn." 
 
 He paused and seemed oblivious of our presence for awhile; 
 He felt that these discrepancies he could not reconcile; 
 
 Seventy-Two 
 
o/ a Soul 
 
 But cold negation's nemesis perception had enthralled, 
 And now experience with its lore reflection had appalled. 
 
 Encrusting thought in special form had paralyzed his mind: 
 Old age had made him positive, nor was he much inclined 
 
 To modify the dream of years he fondly still retained, 
 By which he had in earthly life such recognition gained. 
 
 My guide with gentle courtesy suggestion interposed, 
 And mildly intimated that he always had supposed 
 
 The poet's intuition was the voice of God enshrined, 
 That poet and philosopher could not be disentwined. 
 
 He thought that such as Shelley were much wiser than they knew, 
 Such soul illumination was bequeathed unto the few ; 
 
 Though 'twas acutely painful thus our lesson to unlearn, 
 The soul must be receptive if it would the light discern. 
 
 We left him meditative, disenchanted and confused, 
 
 But obvious limitations to admit he still refused ; 
 Like the spent, exhausted swimmer he would seize the floating straw, 
 
 And hope for extrication by the evolution law. 
 
 Seventy-Three 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 THE SEARCH FOR LIGHT 
 Canto the Thirteenth 
 
 Once more elate, suspensive poised upon volition's wing, 
 We cleave the glowing firmament a tribute rich to bring 
 
 From fairer worlds than mortal gaze has ever yet beheld, 
 
 Whose might and power all dreams of bliss have hopelessly excelled. 
 
 Ablaze the light's transmuting gleam the radiant ether fills, 
 Like sunlit snow with dazzling sheen upon eternal hills ; 
 
 But as the far perspective shines and opens glories wide, 
 With blinding apprehension I appeal unto my guide. 
 
 Upon my burning, aching eyes, with his magnetic hand. 
 He drew a thin, transparent veil, which, like a fairy's wand, 
 
 Administered to my desire, and fortified my form, 
 
 To thus withstand the fire and glow or fierce magnetic storm. 
 
 But ne'er could mortal tongue, nor pen, nor painter's brush portray 
 The raptured scenes— the sweet delight, the panoplied array 
 
 Of hosts of thought-forms, animate, with fervour, love and power, 
 As parts of soul surroundings in a magic fair endower. 
 
 Seventy-Four "' *. 
 
®/ a Soul 
 
 Here all the charms of ancient Greece intensely glorified, 
 
 Perpetuated by her sons who for her life had died 
 In symbol breathing culture's praise, yet praiseless in their pride, 
 
 Supernal beauty such as is to voice or pen denied. 
 
 Thus mirrored from external things which pulsed with life and joy 
 Were priceless jewels of the mind which naught could e'er destroy; 
 
 These bright creations silent spoke, and mutely made the claim 
 
 Of kindred with those ''grand in soul," who gave her deathless fame, ' 
 
 The breeze that kissed the petal of each lovely opening flower 
 Sang music like a silver bell in rich melodious shower, 
 
 The forest leaves in peacock dyes inflamed the heart with fire, 
 And all was soul-suffusing in superb divine attire. 
 
 Imagination's very life breathed in the sculptured forms. 
 
 We speechless gazed on what to me the best of earth deforms ; 
 Each vibrant tone without, within, oppressed with thrilling tide. 
 
 And architecture of the mind was music crystallized. 
 
 No verbal sound in vocal charm did heart or spirit need, 
 
 Each crystal stream, the ocean blue, the valley, mount or mead, 
 
 Seventy-Five 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 With voiceless thought conversant smiled ; we bathed in floods divine ;, 
 I pleaded there for mental light — that mental light was mine. 
 
 Earth's cultured students pensive sigh and oft regretful mourn 
 For loss of all those treasures that can never more return ; 
 
 But Thought, the power creative, which gave birth to such a joy, 
 Maintains the life triumphant that no vandal can destroy. 
 
 Though forms of beauty vanish in the universal change. 
 The spirit of the beauty will with spirit interchange ; 
 
 The semblance may be transient — where no permanence obtains — 
 In spirit life — the real world — integral still remains. 
 
 The measures, models, shapes and signs impressed upon the clay, 
 Which seem beyond redemption's call — forever passed away — 
 
 Still live, breathe, move, inspire, inform in their own native clime,. 
 And fearlessly defy decay — the ravages of Time. 
 
 Within the sacred precincts of a peaceful hallowed grove, 
 
 A sublimated Parthenon — a mental treasure-trove. 
 With thirst insatiable I drank at inspiration's stream. 
 
 Dispensed by those philosophers who did the world redeem 
 
 Seventy-Six 
 
o/ a Soul 
 
 From crude barbaric morbid thought, and superstition's pall. 
 
 Which but for them would long have cast a darkness over all ; 
 Though pagan to the Christian Faith, receptive to the true — 
 
 The Old will bear comparison with dogmas of the New. 
 
 Upon the symbolled rostrum stood "Athena's wisest son." 
 Who smiled to us a greeting, and his discourse then begun; 
 
 Dispensing with apologies or pleadings for applause, 
 He plunged into philosophy of both effect and cause. 
 
 "'What mean the great upheavals in the struggle to maintain 
 This complement of atoms which the spirit must retam? 
 
 Why this rapacious hunger for emoluments of earth 
 
 And furious rough-shod galloping o'er those of honest worth? 
 
 *'King Midas in despotic state rules o'er commercial worlds, 
 With grim and cold indifference his upper lip unfurls ; 
 
 He smiles quite condescending on the 'dreamers' less endowed, 
 And deems of recognition the inferior should be proud. 
 
 *'^Why should the law of progress such a sacrifice demand, 
 And evil with attendant pain authority command? 
 
 Sev«nty-Scven 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 Why not repose quiescent in tranquillity and ease? 
 
 Why drink the cup of bitterness and only find the lees? 
 
 ''Because without activity no happiness could be; 
 
 A soul asleep is portent of a great calamity; 
 The life of stellar worlds is but the breath of human souls, 
 
 The thought of man the universe infinitely controls. 
 
 "The spirit in its normal state indifference abhors, 
 And during soul-unfoldment there is nothing it deplores 
 
 So much as mental apathy — convictions fossilized — 
 
 Reluctance to abandon what was long and dearly prized 
 
 "This brings me to a theme untaught which yet the race must learn^. 
 
 That human souls preside o'er worlds where stellar glories burn; 
 That many Gods have now dethroned the tyrant fetich, claimed 
 
 As one and only soul supreme, and God Almighty named. 
 
 "The attributes ascribed to him the spirit man displays. 
 The Infinite, Eternal one, the power of Ancient Days; 
 
 Anterior to the universe, no origin had he ; 
 He always was and ever will be Immortality* 
 
 Seventy-Eight 
 
of a Soul 
 
 "Once let this large and nobler thoug-ht usurp the narrow view 
 'Twill rouse the crouching- sycophant, and dignity imbue; 
 
 'Twill strike the fetters fest'ring in the wounds of slavish fear, 
 And man with heaven-erected face will human soul revere. 
 
 "His prescient vision now no more obscured by sombre clouds, 
 Deterrent hurling lightning which the timid soul enshrouds, 
 
 Will fierce disperse its vapors grim, and clear the spirit sky, 
 And look beyond — far, far beyond — his greatness to descry. 
 
 "There never was and never will be aught beside the soul, 
 
 That which was primal substance in the aggregated whole; 
 
 The soul of man without a birth, beginning or an end, 
 That self-existent principle on which all thoughts depend. 
 
 "The body must respond to the activities within, 
 Each atom work in unison, in sympathetic kin ; 
 
 Or discord will relationship relentlessly disturb 
 
 And corresponding impulse will the mental powers perturb. 
 
 'Thus Nature, by analogy, is body to the soul ; 
 
 She voices man's emotions — is responsive to the whole ; 
 
 Seventy-Nm€ 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 Each atom is a thought condensed whose breath is crystallized 
 And of our own advancement w^e are faithfully apprised. 
 
 "We think — and transmutation will the elements exhale. 
 They settle in the atmosphere, and Nature will inhale 
 
 The germs and essence of her life, her great transforming charms, 
 The circulating fluid which her organism warms. 
 
 "All atoms are eternal, their condition is but changed ; 
 
 They form a gross substratum, by which power is interchanged ; 
 The heart-beat of the human is the impulse felt externe, 
 
 And smiles and sighs are vital thoughts which in the bosom burn. 
 
 "Though man on earth may be the sport of adverse tidal waves, 
 And circumstance with despot sway his will and power enslaves, 
 
 In yon celestial world afar his potency transcends 
 
 And makes subservient all externe that on the soul attends. 
 
 "These many breathings, thoughts and forms can not be re-supplied 
 By one alone, though he should be perfection deified ; 
 
 If he exhales and souls absorb and make their great demand, 
 Perfection must be swallowed by imperative command. 
 
 Eighty : 
 
af a Soul 
 
 "If perfect he can not receive, nor can he more bestow 
 Than he a person localised can thus possess and know; 
 
 Subservient to progressive law he mental food must need. 
 Or man, insatiate, hungry man, will his God supersede. 
 
 ^'Divine, deific attributes ascribed to one alone , 
 
 Do not transcend that potency the human calls his •'>wn ; 
 
 There cannot be an infinite — a greater oversoul 
 
 Than man, whose spirit might and power can circumscribe the whole. 
 
 ^'Man promises Omnipotence, though now but in degree 
 
 The water, fire and air of earth respond obediently 
 To human impulse ; and the throb of Nature's vibrant fire 
 
 Becomes the faithful servant and fulfills the soul's desire. 
 
 "'Man is Omniscient in his turn, despising space and time, 
 His spirit eye can penetrate out to the heights sublime ; 
 
 Borne onward by the ether waves, his mighty soul can know, 
 And sense the impulse from above and from the depths below. 
 
 "'Without material medium he can now his thoughts impart, 
 And be with souls in sympathy though many miles apart ; 
 
 Eighty-Owe 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 That sympathy can be exchanged and knowledge thus conveyed, 
 For Nature's heartbeats are by man's intelHgence obeyed. 
 
 ''And Omnipresence prophesies in government control, 
 
 The unit of the cabinet can circumscribe the whole ; 
 At Queen Victoria's festival, her Di'mond Jubilee, 
 
 The lightning thought went through her realm All-Fresent in degree. 
 
 'The mortal form contains the all of Nature concentrate, 
 The soul within possesses what is God in aggregate ; 
 
 The speculations of the past have but the mind confused, 
 The unit human is the God — the Diety diffused : 
 
 "These thoughts are but suggestive ; they are not elaborate; 
 
 Eternal progress must forbid conclusions consummate; 
 But my revered and wise colleague will other aspects show, 
 
 And furnish that instruction which you all desire to know." 
 
 Our eyes were forthwith turned to one whose name's a household wordy 
 But vulgar noise in great applause or shouts could not be heard; 
 
 One thrilling, glowing, grateful joy beamed on this favored mind. 
 As he stepped forth with kindly smile to do the work assigned. 
 
 Eighty-Two 
 
of a Soul 
 
 THE PROMISE OF THE FUTURE 
 Canto the Fourteenth 
 
 *To supplement my master's words I fearlessly maintain 
 
 That man the great epitome does all of life contain ; 
 He ever was, he ever is, eternal he must be ; 
 
 Before all things — above all things — he is infinity. 
 
 *'If man then is the infinite he must have lived before, 
 And many, many earthly robes the spirit surely wore ; 
 
 If mutual reciprocal refinement thus was gained, 
 
 And he by Nature's partnership such symmetry obtained, 
 
 "Ages — nay, eons — must have passed to weave the human form, 
 
 Which now describes the beauties that to higher thoughts conform ; 
 
 That marvelous quintessence of a wisdom undefined, 
 The strangest combination of the mortal and the mind. 
 
 "That living inspiration — highest type of womankind. 
 
 On rugged rocks washed by the sea in coarser form reclined ; 
 
 Her couch was spread within the cave, lit by the torch of pine ; 
 No salutary sweetness could her nature then refine. 
 
 li Eighty-Threa 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 "Her lord and master struggled with the brute of wood and field, 
 His grim, austere surroundings could no comfort to him yield ; 
 
 The man who then seemed kindred to the lower living forms 
 Now firm dictates to Nature, who unto his will conforms. 
 
 "How could this gulf of contrast have been bridged by one sojourn 
 In contact with crude Nature, who could only crude return? 
 
 One single incarnation in the ages long ago 
 
 Could not supply the heart and mind with what they need to know. 
 
 "Nor could the outer garment we admire so much today 
 Become a thing of beauty — not a piece of common clay; 
 
 Man thinks intense to Nature, and she, grateful in return, 
 Bestows upon him blessings which enable him to learn. 
 
 "While Nature is impervious to the prompting power that stirs 
 Her impulses progressive, then for many weary yeajs 
 
 Man rests within his lonely tent, in apathy supine ; 
 
 No onward step can e'er be made while they do not combine. 
 
 "Repeated incarnations of the soul in earthly clay 
 Is mutually conducive to unfoldment on the way; 
 
 Eighty-Four 
 
of a Soul 
 
 The upward path which points to heights of glory and of power. 
 That future which will endlessly eternal blessings shower. 
 
 *'Thus man on earth, as sponsor to the spirit powers that be, 
 Compels by thought refinement which is known externally ; 
 
 As oversoul to Nature's heart her sympathy responds, 
 
 And hand in hand their course pursue in true fraternal bonds. 
 
 "She clothes man in external robes that he may thus evolve, 
 Obedient to resisting force — the morbid to dissolve; 
 
 For progress could not break the ice which apathy congeals, 
 No constant impulse to proceed the drowsy spirit feels. 
 
 "But baptism by fire on earth will not eternal be^ 
 When man asserts supremacy his spirit will be free 
 
 To enter realms of joy untold with august powers divine. 
 Where ev'ry God-like attribute will outer worlds refine. 
 
 "Without that contrast objective man could not on proceed; 
 
 The pleadings of the higher world his spirit could net heed ; 
 But, like the infant, innocent, with unreceptive mind. 
 
 Perception would be dormant, hid, or in his breast confined. 
 
 Eighty-FIv€ 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 "The human soul was never born. When it descends to earth 
 It may be cramped through ignorance anterior to its birth ; 
 
 Arrested in development, it forfeits priceless claims, 
 And need of other privilege undoubtedly proclaims. 
 
 "If all must sense experience in condensed objective form, 
 What, then, must be the destiny of those who can't conform 
 
 To impulses of intellect or heed perception's call? 
 If justice is administered they must be of the all. 
 
 "And opportune environment should certainly unfold 
 
 These attributes of Deity with potencies untold ; 
 This cannot be in one short life with intellect obscured — 
 
 Though truth is often painful, yet the truth must be endured. 
 
 "A word upon a theme which now sits smiling to my heart, 
 The complement of dual souls — ^the spirit counterpart. 
 
 These my concepts associate as incidental bear 
 Relation to the plural life— its valid aspect wear. 
 
 "For 'tis by wading through and through the sloughs of deep despond 
 That soul with soul assimilates in brighter worlds beyond; 
 
 ifiighty-six 
 
o/ a Soul 
 
 They part upon the spirit shore to breast the adverse storms, 
 To strengthen, individualize, by moulding earthly forms. 
 
 "When ev'ry weak propensity is strengthened and subdued — - 
 When all is known of contrast life and spirit is imbued 
 
 With strong volition might and power externals to defy, 
 The soul moves onward, undeterred by any mortal tie. 
 
 ^'But onward where ? Oh ! how I longed to pass beyond the veil, 
 And converse v/ith the great and free, whom naught can now assail ; 
 
 Those demi-gods, of whom the seers of old have often dreamed, 
 The high embodied power of what a God to them has seemed. 
 
 ''Tn unison with this desire — obedient to my soul, 
 
 I soared beyond — away beyond, to reach this glorious goal ; 
 
 But paused upon the headlands bold, exhausted and subdued. 
 Unable to continue on the path I had pursued. 
 
 ^'Appealingly and pleadingly my thought still traveled on ; 
 
 To span the gulf that intervened, volition I had none ; 
 As when sweet friends are torn apart, the vessel far recedes 
 
 The aspirations hope belie — ^the yearning nothing heeds. 
 
 '.: ' Eighty-Sev«n 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 "But, like the rainbow lightning-hued, I now beheld, amazed, 
 A Sphere of Light, personified, on which my vision gazed ; 
 
 Resplendent with celestial glow, with colors glorified. 
 As vapours in the evening sky by sunset beauties dyed. 
 
 "Near and more near this Thing of Light with radiant ciura crowned, 
 And scintillating breathings spreading sympathy around, 
 
 Each thought more brilliant — more intense the atmosphere inspired, 
 My soul suffused oppressively as gasping I respired. 
 
 "Surrounding this emblazoned form a dazzling gorgeous hue, 
 Relieved by tints so delicate and pleasing to the view. 
 
 Announced a being self-contained, harmonious and refined ; 
 One^ round whose heart the tendrils of affection were entwined. 
 
 "This dispensation, though implored, overwhelmed my fevered brain, 
 And for a while my palsied will could not its power retain ; 
 
 But when the form had somewhat veiled its overpowering awe, 
 I roused from my hypnotic spell and this I wond'ring saw : 
 
 "The consummate ideal of two spirits love-entwined ; 
 An intimate relationship — a symphony combined ; 
 
 Eighty-Eight 
 
o/ a Soul 
 
 A higher possibility than highest I have known ; 
 
 A prophecy of future power — of what will be my own. 
 
 ''The voice, like cooing of a dove, or warbling of a bird, 
 Was life to me ; the sweetest sound that I had ever heard ; 
 
 Not thrilling, but a sense inspired, 'twas music most divine; 
 
 I breathless drank this fountain stream — a hallowed joy was mine. 
 
 ''As thus the gentler element smiled thought into my soul, 
 I felt my individual life submerged within the whole: 
 
 Or, as the youth when first he loves, becomes by love ensphered — - 
 One worship, one absorbing thought, one principle revered. 
 
 "He, stately, noble, dignified, Apollo amplified, 
 
 Preferred to leave the honors to his sylph-like loving bride ; 
 
 Her gentle personality assimilated free, 
 
 And vibrant strains from her were less distressing unto me. 
 
 "Her head like alabaster with the vase illumed within, 
 
 The heart a mint of treasure that would other treasures win ; 
 
 Her own magnetic atmosphere a benison divine, 
 
 And countenance transparent, where all beauty would combine, 
 
 Eighty-Nin* 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 **Were all but incidental to the glory ol her mind, 
 The luminous of ages to its archives were assigned ; 
 
 And problems so perplexing not the wisest could unfold, 
 Though pabulum to lesser lights ; to her a story told. 
 
 "She told me of far greater souls in those celestial spheres, 
 
 Who think in worlds — of living things — and life forthwith appears ; 
 
 Of human gods far, far beyond Jehovah of the Jews, 
 
 No such barbaric tyrant could these mighty minds enthuse. 
 
 "The incidents of earthly lives she passed in quick review. 
 Expressing fervent gratitude for all that now she knew ; 
 
 Though long and toilsome was the way, and oft her feet would bleed, 
 She must receive the baptism if she the rest would lead. 
 
 "No earthly symboled words could now the blissfulness portray; 
 
 The life celestial was a joy, one sweet, voluptuous day; 
 Though plunged in seas of bitter tears while passing through the vale, 
 
 The spirit compensation did o'er all the ill prevail. 
 
 "Sex is not interchangeable ; the male his state retains ; 
 Through all incarcerations he the positive remains ; 
 
 Ninely 
 
of a Soul 
 
 The practical objective fills the archives of his soul, 
 With God-sense, will-force, potency, and knowledge of the whole. 
 
 "The negative — the feminine — pursues a devious way; 
 
 Her feelings, thoughts and sentiments alternate must obey 
 The promptings of a nature that can not be sex-transposed, 
 
 The combined power is consummate, though sexes are opposed. 
 
 'This yearning of the sexes through these transformation scenes — 
 This pleading of the spirit when much discord intervenes 
 
 Is drawing — pointing upward to that sympathetic goal 
 
 When both with distinct wisdom will be one and soul to soul, 
 
 "'Celestial symbol language cannot now to you appeal ; 
 
 There is no medium suitable its glories to reveal; 
 No wearied, sad monotony can ever us assail ; 
 
 We worlds create — we worlds unfold, and o'er the worlds prevail. 
 
 ''Then man divine — ^the God incarne — think not humility; 
 
 Look up! Do not be slave to an abject servility! 
 In yon transcendent glorious home no other God we know, 
 
 No fetich of the past can such a dignity bestow. 
 
 Ninety-One 
 
The Pilgrimages 
 
 "With animated pleasure we conversed on social themes. 
 Of yearning-s, panaceas, which asperity redeems ; 
 
 And as her gracious compliments like liquid music fell 
 In sweet appreciation, I reluctant sighed farewell. 
 
 "Thus far we have proceeded now to crown the temple dome 
 With gold of truth and reason Wisdom's metaphoric tome; 
 
 The 'Father of Philosophy' will supplement the whole, 
 And details, facts and inference reflectively control." 
 
 Disdaining all formality the martinet of rules, 
 
 Religiously regarded by our own polemic schools, 
 
 This Prince of all the Great of Greece indiff'rent to applause 
 With tersest propositions then submit his mental cause. 
 
 Ninety-Two 
 
of a Soul 
 
 THE FRUIT OF WISDOM 
 
 Canto the Fifteenth 
 
 'The external life and thought are truly breath of human souls, 
 For that aggregated hierarchy the universe controls ; 
 
 And both flora and the fauna are responsive to the will, 
 The infusion of the spirit does the vital power instill. 
 
 **So the modern operations in the spirit seance room, 
 
 Which to popular conceptions have brought everlasting doom; 
 
 The subjection of externals by the will from man outwrought 
 And the promise of creation — (not of something out of naught) 
 
 "'Are exemplified objective by accelerated growth 
 
 In that rapid, strange vibration in the plant, or tree, or both ; 
 
 Which instinct with thoughtful motion and the breath which soul unfurls 
 Are an earnest of man's Godhead ; and control of stellar worlds. 
 
 "'That the man is living substance we do demonstrative know, 
 But the borrowed Great Creator cannot demonstration show; 
 
 All the gods that man e'er worshipped ne'er possessed such powers as he ; 
 He was ever spirit-master and will ever master be. 
 
 ' Ninety-Three 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 "The 'Unknowable* of science are the souls we all may know ; 
 
 They were those who down the ages did the fire mist world bestow ; 
 They our socalled elder brothers, human, but with thought divine, 
 
 Made the universe objective for your benefit and mine. 
 
 "Forms of life in grosser texture they projected from the spheres, 
 Like the wondrous manifesting that in seance oft appears ; 
 
 No spontaneous generation, but objective life of mind, 
 With the human represented in the physical combined. 
 
 "These did not transmute their species, but reflected human thought. 
 By impulsion of the spirit more refinement was outwrought ; 
 
 Till conditions were conducive and the soul could thus descend 
 To appropriate a body which the grosser forms could lend. 
 
 . "Man did not evolve from that which was his servant in the past ; 
 He, condensed, became embodied where his earthly lot was cast; 
 But in realms of the eternal — he no origin had known, 
 He in infinite duration of the aggregate was one. 
 
 "But to give the soul perception he must grapple with the foe, 
 Try conclusions with conditions that himself he thus might know; 
 
 Ninety-Four 
 
of a Soul 
 
 He could form, improve the outer while evolving from within, 
 And through moulding of the mortal could eternal conquests win. 
 
 '*So he left the realms supernal where volition was congealed, 
 And his might, and power, and glory in the soul depths were concealed ; 
 
 Where he was a babe in spirit, pure and innocent indeed, 
 
 And denied the boon of progress with its tribute to his need. 
 
 ^'But the Sphere must be divided which contained the dual forms ; 
 
 Male and female must encounter fierce and angry earthly storms ; 
 And must not be reunited in the everlasting one 
 
 Till the outer was subservient, and the victory was won, 
 
 ^'Ever yearning ; ever striving ; ever stumbling, and defied, 
 
 Through the countless generations in the strife the mortals died ; 
 
 But the 'Vital Spark' returning would obedience command, 
 And at last erratic Nature with the man walked hand In hand. 
 
 ^'When her master's heart was gladdened then she sweetly, kindly smiled. 
 And with gentlest of attentions many weary hours beguilecj ; 
 
 But when gloomy clouds of sorrow shadowed o''er his stormy sky 
 With solicitous outbreathing voiced her anguish with a sigh. 
 
 Ninety-Five 
 
The Pilgrimage 
 
 "When he bnckled on his armour and the battle-flag unfurled, 
 And appropriated fragments cast up from an earHer world, 
 
 Like the spirit at the seance clothed in temporary clay, 
 
 Ke attached those grosser atoms which perforce the soul obey. 
 
 "Life was never inorganic; matter could not thoughts evolve, 
 In the light of spirit science such assumptions must dissolve ; 
 
 Though traditions of creation reproduced in Jewish lore 
 Are a wild and crude travesty we must not the soul ignore. 
 
 '"Need we wonder men of science treat the spirit with disdain 
 When ideas so gross revolting in the world do now obtain ? 
 
 But despite their opposition soul will vindicated be ; 
 
 We shall know the truth of Nature, and the truth will make us free. 
 
 "Then, no longer cringing, fawning, abject grov'ling, slave to fear 
 Man will stand erect in manhood with a dignity austere ; 
 
 Casting off the chains impeding thought will then all else refine, 
 Man will be the God Eternal with the attributes divine." 
 
 Now like hush before the thunder or the feeling infinite. 
 
 Wrapped in breathless, awesome, voiceless intellectual delight ; 
 
 Kinety-Six 
 
af a Soul 
 
 Then the fierce suppressed emotion makes appreciative claim. 
 And the glad congratulations, thanks and gratitude proclaim. 
 
 With the warmest approbation and a fervid spirit zeal, 
 
 Then I sought for closer friendship that in future I might feel 
 
 All the thrilling inspiration from this great and noble three. 
 
 Which would keep my soul aspiring through the life of earth to be. 
 
 There submerged in joy Elysian welling from the fount within 
 
 Interlaced the tendril yearnings that the treasure I might win ; 
 Oh, that glorious feast of reason and that richest flow of soul ! 
 
 That will be divine remembrance while eternal ages roll- 
 As my guide now intimated that my pilgrimage was o'er, 
 
 And my pleasure was suspended to return to earth once more, 
 In reply to solemn pleading and a most sincere desire, 
 
 These much valued friends then promised in my baptism of fire 
 
 They would brood in kindly sympathy and chase the lonely gloom. 
 So that sunlight of the spirit could illume my living tomb ; 
 
 And when my alloted time on earth should consummated be 
 They would give reception on the plains of immortality. 
 
 Ninety-Seven 
 
The Pilgrimage of a Soul 
 
 But in thanking- my attendant for his self-less kind regard, 
 He reminded me the pleasure was exceeding great reward; 
 
 Arriving where my body lay with its sentinel in charge, 
 I passed into the temple my experience to enlarge. 
 
 Now in coming years of contrast I no longer need to sigh, , 
 
 Nor with pensive, fretful yearning pine for days that are gone by; 
 
 No monotonous despairing can the mind or soul imbue 
 I am I — my own Creator ; and can ev'ry thing subdue. 
 
 THE END. 
 Commenced May 28, 1909. Completed August 14, 1909. 
 
 Ninety-Eight 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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