aSjSSPwP* ■ « ." '•'. '."".' ^ ' '. r- ■ i K ■/•;■■;' >;•;•;•:',;•' •' HftSfrai •■'• - EsSa THE POETICAL WORKS HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW, A NEW EDITION, ILLUSTRATED WITH UPWARDS OF ONE HUNDRED DESIGNS, DRAWN BY JOHN GILBERT, ENGRAVED BY THE BROTHERS DALZIEL. LONDON : GEORGE ROUTLEDGE k CO. EARRINGDON STREET. M.DCCO.LVH. 4°m LONDON : PRINTED BY RICHARD CLAY. BREAD STREET KILL CONTENTS. PAGE VOICES OF THE NIGHT. PRELUDE . 1 Hymn to the Night 9 A Psalm of Life. What the Heart of the young Man said to the Psalmist 10 The Reaper, and the Flowers 12 The Light of Stars 13 Footsteps of Angels 15 Flowers 17 The Beleaguered City 20 Midnight Mass for the dying Year 22 EARLIER POEMS. An April Day 27 Autumn 29 Woods in Winter 31 Hymn of the Moravian Nuns of Bethlehem, at the Consecration of Pulaski's Banner 33 Sunrise on the Hills 34 The' Spirit of Poetry 36 Burial of the Minnisink 39 TRANSLATIONS. Coplas de Manrique. From the Spanish .• 43 The Good Shepherd. From the Spanish of Lope de Vega .... 60 To-morrow. From the Spanish of Lope de Vega 61 The Native Land. From the Spanish of Francisco de Aldana . . . ib. The Image of God. From the Spanish of Francisco de Aldana ... 62 The Brook. From the Spanish 63 The Celestial Pilot. From Dante. Purgatorio, IT 64 The Terrestrial Paradise. From Dante. Purgatorio, XXVIII. . . 66 Beatrice. From Dante. Purgatorio, XXX. XXXI 67 Spring. From the French of Charles d'Orleans 69 The Child Asleep. From the French . 71 The Grave. From the Anglo-Saxon 72 CONTENTS. PAGE TRANSLATIONS. King Christian. A National Song of Denmark. From the Danish of Johannes Evald 73 The Happiest Land. Fragment of a Modern Ballad. From the German 75 The Wave. From the German of Tiedge 77 The Dead. From the German of Klopstock 78 The Bird and the Ship. From the German of Midler 79 Whither? From the German of Midler 80 Beware ! From the German 82 Soxg oe the Bell. From the German. 84 The Castle by the Sea. From the German of Uhland 85 The Black Knight. From the German of Uhland 87 Song or the Silent Land. From the German of Salis 90 L'Envoi 91 BALLADS AND OTHER POEMS.— 1842. Preface . . . 95 TnE Skeleton in Armour 103 ^- — The Wreck of the Hesperus 109 The Luck of Edenhall. From the German of Uhland ..... 113 The Elected Knight. From the Danish 115 The Children of the Lord's Supper. From the Swedish of Bishop Tegner 119 MISCELLANEOUS. The Village Blacksmith 137 e.ndymion 14-0 Tiii. Two Locks of Hair. From the German of Pfizer 141 It is not always May 143 The Rainy Day 144 God's-Acre 145 To the River Charles 147 Blind Bartimeus 149 Tin. Goelet of Life 150 Maidenhood 152 i.sior 155 POEMS o\ SLAVERY.— 1842. To William r. Channing 159 I'm: Slave's Dream 1C0 The Good Part, that shall not be taken away 162 'I'm; Slave in tin DISMAL Swamp 164 iiu Slave singing it Midnight 106 VTlTNESSES 107 'I'm Quadroon Girl igg i m. Warning j ;i CONTENTS. PAGE THE BELFRY OE BRUGES, AND OTHER POEMS.— 1846. Carillon 175 The Belfry of Bruges 178 A Gleam oe Sunshine , 182 The Arsenal at Springfield 184 Nuremberg , 186 The Norman Baron 189 Rain in Summer 192 To a Child 195 The Occultation of Orion 201 The Bridge 204 To the Driving Cloud 207 Seaweed . 209 The Day is done 211 Afternoon in February 213 To an old Danish Song-Book . . 2] 5 Walter von der Vogelweid 218 Drinking Song. Inscription for an Antique Pitcher 220 The old Clock on the Stairs 223 The Arrow and the Song 226 Autumn . . . . 227 Dante 228 The Evening Star 229 The Hemlock Tree. From the German 230 Annie of Tharaw. Erom the Low German of Simon Dach .... ib, The Statue over the Cathedral Door. Erom the German of Julius Mosen 232 The Legend of the Crossbill. Erom the German of Julius Mosen . 234 The Sea hath its Pearls. Erom the German of Heinrich Heine . . 235 Poetic Aphorisms. Erom the Sinngedichte of Eriedrich Von Logau . 236 Curfew 238 EVANGELINE, a Tale of Acadie 24J THE SEASIDE AND THE FIRESIDE.— 1850. Dedication 321 BY THE SEASIDE. The Building of the Ship 325 The Evening Star 338 The Secret of the Sea 339 Twilight 341 Sir Humphrey Gilbert 342 The Lighthouse 345 The Fire of Drift-wood 348 CONTENTS. PAGK BY THE FIRESIDE. Resignation „ 353 The Builders 355 Sand or the Desert in an Hour-glass 357 Birds oe. Passage 360 The open Window 362 King Witlae's Drinking-horn 364 Gaspar Becerra 367 Pegasus in Pound 369 Tegner's Drapa 372 Sonnet. Oji Mrs. Kemble's Readings from Shakspeare 375 The Singers ib. Suspiria 377 Hymn eor my Brother's Ordination 378 Blind Girl oe Castel-Cuille. Prom the Gascon of Jasmin . . . 379 A Christmas Carol 399 VOICES OF THE NIGHT. PRELUDE. 53?^;?=/^ ""^i PRELUDE. Pleasant it was, when woods were green, And winds were soft and low, PRELUDE. To lie amid some sylvan scene, Where, the long drooping boughs between . Shadows dark and sunlight sheen Alternate come and go ; Or where the denser grove receives No sunlight from above, But the dark foliage interweaves In one unbroken roof of leaves, Underneath whose sloping eaves The shadows hardly move. Beneath some patriarchal tree I lay upon the ground ; His hoary arms uplifted he, And all the broad leaves over me Clapped their little hands in glee, With one continuous sound ; — A slumberous sound, — a sound that brings The feelings of a dream, — As of innumerable wings, As, when a bell no longer swings, Faint the hollow murmur rings O'er meadow, lake, and stream. And dreams of that which cannot die, Bright visions, came to me, As lapped in thought I used to lie, And gaze into the summer sky, Where the sailing clouds went by, Like ships upon the sea ; PRELUDE. Dreams that the soul of youth engage Ere Fancy has been quelled ; Old legends of the monkish page. Traditions of the saint and sage, Tales that have the rime of age, And chronicles of Eld. And, loving still these quaint old themes, Even in the city's throng I feel the freshness of the streams, That, crossed by shades and sunny gleams, Water the green land of dreams, The holy land of song. Therefore, at Pentecost, which brings The spring, clothed like a bride, When nestling buds unfold their wings, And bishop's-caps have golden rings, Musing upon many things, I sought the woodlands wide. The green trees whispered low and mild ; It was a sound of joy ! They were my playmates when a child, And rocked me in their arms so wild ! Still they looked at me and smiled, As if I were a boy ; And ever whispered, mild and low, " Come, be a child once more ! " And waved their long arms to and fro, And beckoned solemnly and slow ; Oh, I could not choose but go Into the woodlands hoar ; PRELUDE. Into the blithe and breathing air, Into the solemn wood, Solemn and silent everywhere ! Nature with folded hands seemed there, Kneeling at her evening prayer ! Like one in prayer I stood. Before me rose an avenue Of tall and sombrous pines; Abroad their fan-like branches grew, And, where the sunshine darted through, Spread a vapour soft and blue, In long and sloping lines. And, falling on my 1 weary brain, Like a fast-falling shower, The dreams of youth came back again, Low lispings of the summer rain, Dropping on the ripened grain, As once upon the flower. Visions of childhood ! Stay, oh stay ! Ye were so sweet and wild ! And distant voices seemed to say, " It cannot be ! They pass away ! Other themes demand thy lay ; Thou art no more a child ! " The land of Song within thee lies, Watered by living springs ; The lids of Fancy's sleepless eyes Are gates unto that "Paradise. Holy thoughts, like stars, arise, Its clouds arc angels' wings. PRELUDE. " Learn, that henceforth thy song shall be, Not mountains capped with snow, Nor forests sounding like the sea, Nor rivers flowing ceaselessly, Where the woodlands bend to see The bending heavens below. "There is a forest where the din Of iron branches sounds ! A mighty river roars between, And whosoever looks therein, Sees the heavens all black with sin, — Sees not its depths, nor bounds. " Athwart the swinging branches cast, Soft rays of sunshine pour ; Then comes the fearful wintry blast ; Our hopes, like withered leaves, fall fast ; Pallid lips say, ' It is past ! "We can return no more ! ' " Look, then, into thine heart, and write ! Yes, into Life's deep stream ! All forms of sorrow and delight, All solemn Voices of the Night, That can soothe thee, or affright, — Be these henceforth thy theme." VOICES OF THE NIGHT. UoTVLa, TTorvta vv£, V7TVoSoT€ipa TWV TToXvTTOVOiV fipOTWV, Epe/3o#ei/ Wc fxoXe /xoXc KaT~ - mssmmss. OF |ME Pentecost, day of rejoicing, had come. The church of the village Gleaming stood in the morning's sheen. On the spire of the belfry, Tipped with a vane of metal, the friendly flames of the Spring-sun Glanced like the tongues of fire, beheld by Apostles aforetime. Clear was the heaven and blue, and May, with her cap crowned with roses, 121 BALLADS AND OTHER POEMS. Stood in her holiday dress in the fields, and the wind and the brooklet Murmured gladness and peace, God's-peace ! with lips rosy-tinted Whispered the race of the flowers, and merry on balancing branches Birds were singing their carol, a jubilant hymn to the Highest. Swept and clean was the churchyard. Adorned like a leaf- woven arbour Stood its old-fashioned gate ; and within upon each cross of iron Hung was a fragrant garland, new twined by the hands of affection. Even the dial, that stood on a hillock among the departed, (There full a hundred years had it stood,) was embellished with blossoms. Like to the patriarch hoary, the sage of his kith and the hamlet, Who on his birth-day is crowned by children and children's children, So stood the ancient prophet, and mute with his pencil of iron Marked on the tablet of stone, and measured the time and its changes, While all around at his feet, an eternity slumbered in quiet. Also the church within was adorned, for this was the season When the young, their parents' hope, and the loved-ones of heaven, Should at the foot of the altar renew the vows of their baptism. Therefore each nook and corner was swept and cleaned, and the dust was Blown from the walls and ceiling, and from the oil-painted benches. There stood the church like a garden ; the Feast of the Leafy Pavilions x Saw we in living presentment. From noble arms on the church wall Grew forth a cluster of leaves, and the preacher's pulpit of oak-wood Budded once more anew, as aforetime the rod before Aaron. Wreathed thereon was the Bible with leaves, and the dove, washed with silver, Under its canopy fastened, had on it a necklace of wind-flowers. But in front of the choir, round the altar-piece painted by Horberg, 2 Crept a garland gigantic ; and bright- curling tresses of angels Peeped, like the sun from a cloud, from out of the shadowy leaf- work. Likewise the lustre of brass, new-polished, blinked from the ceiling, And for lights there were lilies of Pentecost set in the sockets. Loud rang the bells already ; the thronging crowd was assembled Far from valleys and hills, to list to the holy preaching. Hark ! then roll forth at once the mighty tones from the organ, Hover like voices from God, aloft like invisible spirits. Like as Elias in heaven, when he cast off from him his mantle, Even so cast off the soul its garments of earth ; and with one voice 122 Chimed in the congregation, and sang an anthem immortal Of the sublime Wallin, 3 of David's harp in the North -land Tuned to the choral of Luther; the song on its powerful pinions Took every living soul, and lifted it gently to heaven, And every face did shine like the Holy One's face upon Tabor. Lo ! there entered then into the church the Reverend Teacher. Father he hight and he was in the parish ; a christianly plainness Clothed from his head to his feet the old man of seventy winters. Friendly was he to behold, and glad as the heralding augel Walked he among the crowds, but still a contemplative grandeur Lay on his forehead as clear, as on moss-covered grave-stone a sunbeam. As in his inspiration (an evening twilight that faintly 123 BALLADS AND OTHER POEMS. Gleams in the human soul, even now, from the day of creation) Th' Artist, the friend of heaven, imagines Saint John when in Patmos, Gray, with his eyes uplifted to heaven, so seemed then the old man ; Such was the glance of his eye, and such were his tresses of silver. All the congregation arose in the pews that were numbered. But with a cordial look, to the right and the left hand, the old man Nodding all hail and peace, disappeared in the innermost chancel. Simply and solemnly now proceeded the Christian service, Singing and prayer, and at last an ardent discourse from the old man. Many a moving word and warning, that out of the heart came, Fell like the dew of the morning, like manna on those in the desert. Afterwards, when all was finished, the Teacher reentered the chancel, Followed therein by the young. On the right hand the boys had their places, Delicate figures, with close-curling hair and cheeks rosy-blooming. But on the left-hand of these, there stood the tremulous lilies, Tinged with the blushing light of the morning, the diffident maidens, — Folding their hands in prayer, and their eyes cast down on the pavement. Now came, with question and answer, the Catechism. In the beginning- Answered the children with troubled and faltering voice, but the old man's Glances of kindness encouraged them soon, and the doctrines eternal Flowed, like the waters of fountains, so clear from lips unpolluted. Whene'er the answer was closed, and as oft as they named the Redeemer, Lowly louted the boys, and lowly the maidens all courtesied. Friendly the Teacher stood, like an angel of light there among them, And to the children explained he the holy, the highest in few words, Thorough, yet simple and clear, for sublimity always is simple. Both in sermon and song, a child can seize on its meaning. Even as the green-growing bud is unfolded when Spring-tide approaches, Leaf by leaf is developed, and, warmed by the radiant sunshine, Blushes with purple and gold, till at last the perfected blossom Opens its odorous chalice, and rocks with its crown in the breezes, So was unfolded here the Christian lore of salvation, Line by line from the soul of childhood. The fathers and mothers Stood behind them in tears, and were glad at each well-worded answer. 12 i Now went the old man up to the altar ; — and straightway transfigured (So did it seem unto me) was then the affectionate Teacher. Like the Lord's Prophet sublime, and awful as Death and as Judgment Stood he, the God-commissioned, the soul-searcher, earthward descending. m BALLADS AND OTHER POEMS. Glances, sharp as a sword, into hearts, that to him were transparent, Shot he ; his voice was deep, was low like the thunder afar off. So on a sudden transfigured he stood there, he spake and he questioned. " This is the faith of the Fathers, the faith the Apostles delivered, This is moreover the faith whereunto I baptized you, while still ye Lay on your mothers' breasts, and nearer the portals of heaven. Slumbering received you then the Holy Church in its bosom ; Wakened from sleep are ye now, and the light in its radiant splendor Rains from the heaven downward; — to-day on the threshold of childhood Kindly she frees you again, to examine and make your election, For she knows nought of compulsion, and only conviction desireth. This is the hour of your trial, the turning-point of existence, Seed for the coming days ; without revocation departeth Now from your lips the confession ; Bethink ye, before ye make answer ! Think not, think not with guile to deceive the questioning Teacher. Sharp is his eye to-day, and a curse ever rests upon falsehood. Enter not with a lie on Life's journey ; the multitude hears you, Brothers and sisters and parents, what dear upon earth is and holy Standeth before your sight as a witness ; the Judge everlasting- Looks from the sun down upon you, and angels in waiting beside him Grave your confession in letters of fire, upon tablets eternal. Thus then, — believe ye in God, in the Father who this world created 1 Him who redeemed it, the Son, and the Spirit where both are united 1 Will ye promise me here, (a holy promise !) to cherish God more than all things earthly, and every man as a brother? Will ye promise me here, to confirm your faith by your living, Th' heavenly faith of affection ! to hope, to forgive, and to suffer, Be what it may your condition, and walk before God in uprightness 1 Will ye promise me this before God and man 1 " — with a clear voice Answered the young men Yes ! and Yes ! with lips softly-breathing Answered the maidens eke. Then dissolved from the brow of the Teacher Clouds with the thunders therein, and he spake in accents more gentle, Soft as the evening's breath, as harps by Babylon's rivers. " Hail, then, hail to you all ! To the heirdom of heaven be ye welcome ! Children no more from this day, but by covenant brothers and sisters ! 126 THE CHILDREN OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. Yet, — for what reason not children? Of such is the kingdom of heaven. Here upon earth an assemblage of children, in heaven one Father, Ruling them all as his household, — forgiving in turn and chastising, This is of human life a picture, as Scripture has taught us. Blessed are the pure before God ! Upon purity and upon virtue Resteth the Christian faith ; she herself from on high is descended. Strong as a man and pure as a child, is the sum of the doctrine, Which the Divine One taught, and suffered and died on the cross for, ! as ye wander this day from childhood's sacred asylum Downward and ever downward, and deeper in Age's chill valley, ! how soon will ye come, — too soon ! — and long to turn backward Up to its hill-tops again, to the sun-illumined, where Judgment Stood like a father before you, and Pardon, clad like a mother, Gave you her hand to kiss, and the loving heart was forgiven. Life was a play, and your hands grasped after the roses of heaven ! Seventy years have I lived already ; the Father eternal Gave me gladness and care ; but the loveliest hours of existence, When I have steadfastly gazed in their eyes, I have instantly known them, Known them all again ; — They were my childhood's acquaintance. Therefore take from henceforth, as guides in the paths of existence, Prayer, with her eyes raised to heaven, and Innocence, bride of man's childhood. Innocence, child beloved, is a guest from the world of the blessed, Beautiful, and in her hand a lily ; on life's roaring billows Swings she in safety, she heedeth them not, in the ship she is sleeping. Calmly she gazes around in the turmoil of men ; in the desert Angels descend and minister unto her ; she herself knoweth Nought of her glorious attendance ; but follows faithful and humble, Follows so long as she may her friend ; do not reject her, For she cometh from God and she holdeth the keys of the heavens. — Prayer is Innocence' friend ; and willingly flieth incessant 'Twixt the earth and the sky, the carrier-pigeon of heaven. Son of Eternity, fettered in Time, and an exile, the Spirit Tugs at his chains evermore, and struggles like flames ever upward. Still he recalls with emotion his Father's manifold mansions, Thinks of the land of his fathers, where blossomed more freshly the flowers, Shone a more beautiful sun, and he played with the winged angels. Then grows the earth too narrow, too close ; and homesick for heaven Longs the wanderer again ; and the Spirit's longings are worship ; 127 BALLADS AND OTHER POEMS. Worship is called its most beautiful hour, and its tongue is entreaty. Ah ! when the infinite burden of life descendeth upon us, Crushes to earth our hope, and, under the earth, in the grave-yard, — Then it is good to pray unto God ; for his sorrowing children Turns he ne'er from his door, but he heals and helps and consoles them. Yet is it better to pray when all things are prosperous with us, Pray in fortunate days, for life's most beautiful Fortune Kneels down before the Eternal's throne ; and, with hands interfolded, Praises thankful and moved the only giver of blessings. Or do ye know, ye children, one blessing that comes not from Heaven ? What has mankind forsooth, the poor ! that it has not received ? Therefore, fall in the dust and pray ! The seraphs adoring Cover with pinions six their face in the glory of him who Hung his masonry pendant on nought, when the world he created. Earth declareth his might, and the firmament uttereth his glory. Races blossom and die, and stars fall downward from heaven, Downward like withered leaves ; at the last stroke of midnight, millenniums Lay themselves down at his feet, and he sees them, but counts them as nothing. Who shall stand in his presence'? The wrath of the judge is terrific, Casting the insolent down at a glance. When he speaks in his anger Hillocks skip like the kid, and mountains leap like the roe-buck. Yet, — why are ye afraid, ye children 1 This awful avenger, Ah ! is a merciful God ! God's voice was not in the earthquake, Not in the fire, nor the storm, but it was in the whispering breezes. Love is the root of creation ; God's essence ; worlds without number Lie in his bosom like children ; he made them for this purpose only. Only to love and be loved again, he breathed forth his spirit Into the slumbering dust, and upright standing, it laid its Hand on its heart, and felt it was warm with a flame out of heaven. Quench, quench not that flame ! It is the breath of your being. Love is life, but hatred is death. Not father nor mother Loved you, as God has loved you; for 'twas that you may be happy Gave he his only Son. When he bowed down his head in the death-hour Solemnised Love its triumph ; the sacrifice then was completed. Lo ! then was rent on a sudden the vail of the temple, dividing- Earth and heaven apart, and the dead from their sepulchres rising Whispered with pallid lips and low in the ears of each other Th' answer, but dreamed of before, to creation's enigma, — Atonement ! 128 THE CHILDREN OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. Depths of Love are Atonement's depths, for Love is Atonement. Therefore, child of mortality, love thou the merciful father ; Wish what the Holy One wishes, and not from fear, but affection ; Fear is the virtue of slaves ; but the heart that loveth is willing ; Perfect was before God, and perfect is Love, and Love only. Lovest thou God as thou oughtest, then lovest thou likewise thy brethren ; One is the sun in heaven, and one, only one, is Love also. Bears not each human figure the godlike stamp on his forehead ? Readest thou not in his face thine origin? Is he not sailing- Lost like thyself on an ocean unknown, and is he not guided By the same stars that guide thee ? Why shouldst thou hate then thy brother ? Hateth he thee, forgive ! For 'tis sweet to stammer one letter Of the Eternal's language ; — on earth it is called Forgiveness ! Knowest thou Him, who forgave, with the crown of thorns round his temples 1 Earnestly prayed for his foes, for his murderers 1 Say, dost thou know him ] Ah ! thou confessest his name, so follow likewise his example, Think of thy brother no ill, but throw a veil over his failings, Guide the erring aright ; for the good, the heavenly Shepherd Took the lost lamb in his arms, and bore it back to its mother. This is the fruit of Love, and it is by its fruits that we know it. Love is the creature's welfare, with God ; but Love among mortals Is but an endless sigh ! He longs, and endures, and stands waiting, Suffers, and yet rejoices, and smiles with tears on his eyelids. Hope, — so is called upon earth, his recompense, — Hope, the befriending, Does what she can, for she points evermore up to heaven, and faithful Plunges her anchor's peak in the depths of the grave, and beneath it Paints a more beautiful world, a dim, but a sweet play of shadows ! Races, better than we, have leaned on her wavering promise, Having nought else but Hope. Then praise we our Father in heaven, Him, who has given us more ; for to us has Hope been transfigured, Groping no longer in night ; she is Faith, she is living assurance. Faith is enlightened Hope ; she is light, is the eye of affection, Dreams of the longing interprets, and carves their visions in marble. Faith is the sun of life ; and her countenance shines like the Hebrew's, For she has looked upon God ; the heaven on its stable foundation Draws she with chains down to earth, and the New Jerusalem sinketh Splendid with portals twelve in golden vapors descending. 129 s BALLADS AND OTHER POEMS. There enraptured she wanders, and looks at the figures majestic, Fears not the winged crowd, in the midst of them all is her homestead. Therefore love and believe ; for works will follow spontaneous, Even as day does the sun; the Eight from the Good is an offspring, Love in a bodily shape ; and Christian works are no more than Animate Love and faith, as flowers are the animate spring-tide. Works do follow us all unto God ; there stand and bear witness Not what they seemed, — but what they were only. Blessed is he who Hears their confession secure ; they are mute upon earth until Death's hand Opens the mouth of the silent. Ye children, does Death e'er alarm you] Death is the brother of Love, twin-brother is he, and is only More austere to behold. With a kiss upon lips that are fading Takes he the soul and departs, and rocked in the arms of affection, Places the ransomed child, new born, 'fore the face of its father. Sounds of its coming already I hear, — see dimly his pinions, Swart as the night, but with stars strewn upon them ! I fear not before him. Death is only release, and in mercy is mute. On his bosom Freer breathes, in its coolness, my breast ; and face to face standing, Look I on God as he is, a sun unpolluted by vapors; Look on the light of the ages I loved, the spirits majestic, Nobler, better than I ; they stand by the throne all transfigured, Vested in white, and with harps of gold, and are singing an anthem, Writ in the climate of heaven, in the language spoken by angels. You, in like manner, ye children beloved, he one day shall gather, Never forgets he the weary ; — then welcome, ye loved ones, hereafter ! Meanwhile forget not the keeping of vows, forget not the promise, Wander from holiness onward to holiness ; earth shall ye heed not ; Earth is but dust and heaven is light ; I have pledged you to heaven. God of the Universe, hear me ! thou fountain of Love everlasting, Hark to the voice of thy servant ! I send up my prayer to thy heaven ! Let me hereafter not miss at thy throne one spirit of all these, Whom thou hast given me here ! I have loved them all like a father. May they bear witness for me, that I taught them the way of salvation, Faithful, so far as I knew of thy word ; again may they know me, Fall on their Teacher's breast, and before thy face may I place them, Pure as they now are, but only more tried, and exclaiming with gladness, Father, lo ! I am here, and the children, whom thou hast given me ! " 130 THE CHILDREN OF THE LORD'S SUPPER. Weeping he spake in these words ; and now at the beck of the old man Knee against knee they knitted a wreath round the altar's enclosure. Kneeling he read then the prayers of the consecration, and softly With him the children read; at the close, with tremulous accents, Asked he the peace of heaven, a benediction upon them. Now should have ended his task for the day ; the following Sunday Was for the young appointed to eat of the Lord's holy Supper. Sudden, as struck from the clouds, stood the Teacher silent and laid his Hand on his forehead, and cast his looks upward ; while thoughts high and holy Flew through the midst of his soul, and his eyes glanced with wonderful brightness. * On the next Sunday, who knows ! perhaps I shall rest in the grave-yard ! Some one perhaps of yourselves, a lily broken untimely, Bow down his head to the earth ; why delay I % the hour is accomplished. Warm is the heart ;— I will so ! for to-day grows the harvest of heaven. What I began accomplish I now ; for what failing therein is I, the old man, will answer to God and the reverend father. Say to me only, ye children, ye denizens new-come in heaven, Are ye ready this day to eat of the bread of Atonement % AVhat it denoteth, that know ye full well, I have told it you often. Of the new covenant a symbol it is, of Atonement a token, Stablished between earth and heaven. Man by his sins and transgressions Far has wandered from God, from his essence. 'Twas in the beginning- Fast by the Tree of Knowledge he fell, and it hangs its crown o'er the Fall to this day ; in the Thought is the Fall ; in the Heart the Atonement. Infinite is the Fall, the Atonement infinite likewise. See ! behind me, as far as the old man remembers, and forward, Far as Hope in her flight can reach with her wearied pinions, Sin and Atonement incessant go through the life-time of mortals. Brought forth is sin full-grown ; but Atonement sleeps in our bosoms Still as the cradled babe ; and dreams of heaven and of angels, Cannot awake to sensation ; is like the tones in the harp's strings, Spirits imprisoned, that wait evermore the deliverer's finger. Therefore, ye children beloved, descended the Prince of Atonement, Woke the slumberer from sleep, and she stands now with eyes all resplendent, Bright as the vault of the sky, and battles with sin and o'ercomes her. 131 BALLADS AND OTHER POEMS. Downward to earth he caine and transfigured, thence reascended, Not from the heart in like wise, for there he still lives in the Spirit, Loves and atones evermore. So long as Time is, is Atonement. Therefore with reverence receive this day her visible token. Tokens are dead if the things do not live. The light everlasting Unto the blind man is not, but is born of the eye that has vision. Neither in bread nor in wine, but in the heart that is hallowed Lieth forgiveness enshrined ; the intention alone of amendment Fruits of the earth ennobles to heavenly things, and removes all Sin and the guerdon of sin. Only Love with his arms wide extended, Penitence weeping and praying j the "Will that is tried, and whose gold flows Purified forth from the flames ; in a word, mankind by Atonement Breaketh Atonement's bread, and drinketh Atonement's wine-cup. But he who cometh up hither, unworthy, with hate in his bosom, Scoffing at men and at God, is guilty of Christ's blessed body, And the Redeemer's blood ! To himself he eateth and drinketh Death and doom ! And from this, preserve us, thou heavenly Father ! Are ye ready, ye children, to eat of the bread of Atonement?" Thus with emotion he asked, and together answered the children Yes ! with deep sobs interrupted. Then read he the due supplications, Read the Form of Communion, and in chimed the organ and anthem ; ! Holy Lamb of God, who takest away our transgressions, Hear us ! give us thy peace ! have mercy, have mercy upon us ! Th' old man, with trembling hand, and heavenly pearls on his eyelids, Filled now the chalice and paten, and dealt round the mystical symbols. ! then seemed it to me, as if God, with the broad eye of mid-day, Clearer looked in at the windows, and all the trees in the churchyard Bowed down their summits of green, and the grass on the graves 'gaii to shiver. But in the children, (I noted it well; I knew it) there ran a Tremor of holy rapture along through their icy-cold members. Decked like an altar before them, there stood the green earth, and above it Heaven opened itself, as of old before Stephen ; they saw there Radiant in glory the Father, and on his right hand the Redeemer. Under them hear they the clang of harpstrings, and angels from gold clouds Beckon to them like brothers, and fan with their pinions of purple. 132 Closed was the Teacher's task, and with heaven in their hearts and their faces. Up rose the children all, and each bowed him, weeping full sorely, Downward to kiss that reverend hand, but all of them pressed he Moved to his bosom, and laid, with a prayer, his hands full of blessings, Now on the holy breast, and now on the innocent tresses. NOTES. (1) The Feast of the Tabernacles ; in Swedish, Lofhyddohogtiden, the Leaf-huts'-high-tide. (2) The peasant -painter of Sweden. He is known chiefly by his altar-pieces in the village churches. (3) A distinguished pulpit-orator and poet. He is particularly remarkable for the beauty and sublimity of his psalms. MISCELLANEOUS. THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH, Under a spreading chestnut tree The village smithy stands ; The smith, a mighty man is he, 13; BALLADS AND OTHER POEMS. With large and sinewy hands ; And the muscles of his brawny arms Are strong as iron bands. His hair is crisp, and black, and long. His face is like the tan • His brow is wet with honest sweat, He earns whate'er he can, And looks the whole world in the face, For he owes not any man. Week in, week out, from morn till night, You can hear his bellows blow ; You can hear him swing his heavy sledge, With measured beat and slow, Like a sexton ringing the village bell, When the evening sun is low. And children coming home from school Look in at the open door ; They love to see the flaming forge, And hear the bellows roar, And catch the burning sparks that fly Like chaff from a threshing floor. He goes on Sunday to the church, And sits among his boys ; He hears the parson pray and preach, He hears his daughter's voice, Singing in the village choir, And it makes his heart rejoice. It sounds to him like her mother's voice, Singing in Paradise ! lie needs must think of Lor once more, 138 THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH. How in the grave she lies ; And with his hard, rough hand he wipes A tear out of his eyes. Toiling, — rejoicing, — sorrowing, Onward through life he goes ; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, something done, Has earned a night's repose. Thanks, thanks to thee, my worthy friend, For the lesson thou hast taught ! Thus at the naming forge of life Our fortunes must be wrought ; Thus on its sounding anvil shaped Each burning deed and thought ! ENDYMION. The rising moon has hid the stars ; Her level rays, like golden bars, Lie on the landscape green, With shadows brown between, And silver white the river gleams, is if Diana in her dreams, Had dropt her silver bow Upon the meadows low. On such a tranquil night as thi She woke Endymion with a kiss, When, sleeping in the gro He dreamed not of her love 140 ENDYMION. Like Dian's kiss, unasked, unsought, Love gives itself, but is not bought , Nor voice, nor sound betrays Its deep, impassioned gaze. It comes, — the beautiful, the free, The crown of all humanity, — In silence and alone To seek the elected one. It lifts the boughs, whose shadows deep Are Life's oblivion, the soul's sleep, And kisses the closed eyes Of him, who slumbering lies. 0, weary hearts ! 0, slumbering eyes ! 0, drooping souls, whose destinies Are fraught with fear and pain, Ye shall be loved again ! No one is so accursed by fate, No one so utterly desolate, But some heart, though unknown, Responds unto his own. Responds, — as if with unseen wings, An angel touched its quivering strings ; And whispers, in its song, " Where hast thou stayed so long 1 " THE TWO LOCKS OF HAIR. FROM THE GERMAN OF PFIZER. A youth, light-hearted and content, I wander through the world ; Here, Arab-like, is pitched my tent. And straight again is furled. 141 BALLADS AND OTHER POEMS. Yet oft I dream, that once a wife Close in my heart was locked, And in the sweet repose of life A blessed child I rocked. I wake ! Away that dream, — away ! Too long did it remain ! So long, that both by night and day It ever comes again. The end lies ever in my thought ; To a grave so cold and deep The mother beautiful was brought ; Then dropt the child asleep. But now the dream is wholly o'er, I bathe mine eyes and see ; And wander through the world once more, A youth so light and free. Two locks, — and they are wondrous fair,-— Left me that vision mild ; The brown is from the mother's hair, The blond is from the child. And when I see that lock of gold, Pale grows the evening-red; And when the dark lock I behold, I wish that I were dead. 142 IT IS NOT ALWAYS MAY. NO HAY PAJAROS EN LOS NIDOS ANTANO. — Spanish Proverb. The sun is bright, — the air is clear, The darting swallows soar and sing, And from the stately elms I hear The blue-bird prophesying Spring. So blue yon winding river flows, It seems an outlet from the sky, Where, waiting till the west wind blows, The freighted clouds at anchor lie. All things are new;— the buds, the leaves, That gild the elm-tree's nodding crest, And even the nest beneath the eaves ; There are no birds in last year's nest ! All things rejoice in youth and love, The fulness of their first delight ! And learn from the soft heavens above The melting tenderness of night. Maiden, that read'st this simple rhyme, Enjoy thy youth, it will not stay ; Enjoy the fragrance of thy prime, For ! it is not always May ! Enjoy the Spring of Love and Youth, To some good angel leave the rest ; For Time will teach thee soon the truth, There are no birds in last year's nest ! 143 THE RAINY DAY. The day is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rains, and the wind is never weary ; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall. But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary. My life is cold, and dark, and dreary ; It rains, and the wind is never weary ; My thoughts still cling to the mouldering Past, But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast, And the days are dark and dreary/ Be still, sad heart ! and cease repining ; Behind the clouds is the sun still shining ; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary Ml GOD'S-ACRE. I like that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls The burial-ground God's- Acre ! It is just ; It consecrates each grave within its walls, And breathes a benison o'er the sleeping dust. 145 BALLADS AND OTHER POEMS. God's-Acre ! Yes, that blessed name imparts Comfort to those, who in the grave have sown The seed, that they had garnered in their hearts, Their bread of life, alas ! no more their own. Into its furrows shall we all be cast, In the sure faith, that we shall rise again At the great harvest, when the archangel's blast Shall winnow, like a fan, the chaff and grain. Then shall the good stand in immortal bloom, In the fair gardens of that second birth ; And each bright blossom mingle its perfume With that of flowers which never bloomed on earth. With thy rude ploughshare, Death, turn up the sod, And spread the furrow for the seed we sow ; This is the field and Acre of our God, This is the place, where human harvests grow ! TO THE RIVER CHARLES. River ! that in silence windest Through the meadows, bright and free, Till at length thy rest thou findest In the bosom of the sea ! Four long years of mingled feeling, Half in rest, and half in strife, I have seen thy waters stealing Onward, like the stream of life. Thou hast taught me, Silent River ! Many a lesson, deep and long ; Thou hast been a generous giver ; I can give thee but a song. 147 BALLADS AND OTHER POEMS. Oft in sadness and in illness, I have watched thy current glide, Till the beauty of its stillness Overflowed me, like a tide. And in better hours and brighter, When I saw thy waters gleam, I have felt my heart beat lighter, And leap onward with thy stream. Not for this alone I love thee, Nor because thy waves of blue From celestial seas above thee Take their own celestial hue. Where yon shadowy woodlands hide thee, And thy waters disappear, Friends T love have dwelt beside thee, And have made thy margin dear. More than this ; — thy name reminds me Of three friends, all true and tried ; And that name, like magic, binds me Closer, closer to thy side. Friends my soul with joy remembers! How like quivering flames they start, When I fan the living embers On the hearth-stone of my heart ! Tis for this, thou Silent River! That my spirit leans to thee ; Thou hast been a generous giver, Take this idle song from me. 148 BLIND BART1MEUS. Blind Bartimeus at the gates Of Jericho in darkness waits ; He hears the crowd ; — he hears a breath Say, " It is Christ of Nazareth ! " And calls, in tones of agony, 'Irjcrov, cXirjcrov fxe ! The thronging multitudes increase ; Blind Bartimeus, hold thy peace ! But still, above the noisy crowd, The beggar's cry is shrill and loud ; Until they say, " He calleth thee ! " ®apo"€t, eyeipai, o)V€t