Part 6 (1/2)

A poem every flower is, And every leaf a line, And with delicious memories They fill this heart of mine: No living blossoms are so clear As these dead relics treasured here; One tells of Love, of friends.h.i.+p one, Love's quiet after-sunset time, When the all-dazzling light is gone, And, with the soul's low vesper-chime, O'er half its heaven doth out-flow A holy calm and steady glow.

Some are gay feast-songs, some are dirges, In some a joy with sorrow merges; One sings the shadowed woods, and one the roar Of ocean's everlasting surges, Tumbling upon the beach's hard-beat floor, Or sliding backward from the sh.o.r.e To meet the landward waves and slowly plunge once more.

O flowers of grace, I bless ye all By the dear faces ye recall!

IV.

Upon the banks of Life's deep streams Full many a flower groweth, Which with a wondrous fragrance teems, And in the silent water gleams, And trembles as the water floweth, Many a one the wave upteareth, Was.h.i.+ng ever the roots away, And far upon its bosom beareth, To bloom no more in Youth's glad May; As farther on the river runs, Flowing more deep and strong, Only a few pale, scattered ones Are seen the dreary banks along; And where those flowers do not grow, The river floweth dark and chill, Its voice is sad, and with its flow Mingles ever a sense of ill; Then, Poet, thou who gather dost Of Life's best flowers the brightest, O, take good heed they be not lost While with the angry flood thou fightest!

V.

In the cool grottos of the soul, Whence flows thought's crystal river, Whence songs of joy forever roll To Him who is the Giver-- There store thou them, where fresh and green Their leaves and blossoms may be seen, A spring of joy that faileth never; There store thou them, and they shall be A blessing and a peace to thee, And in their youth and purity Thou shalt be young forever!

Then, with their fragrance rich and rare, Thy living shall be rife, Strength shall be thine thy cross to bear, And they shall be a chaplet fair, Breathing a pure and holy air, To crown thy holy life.

VI.

O Poet! above all men blest, Take heed that thus thou store them; Love, Hope, and Faith shall ever rest, Sweet birds (upon how sweet a nest!) Watchfully brooding o'er them.

And from those flowers of Paradise Scatter thou many a blessed seed, Wherefrom an offspring may arise To cheer the hearts and light the eyes Of after-voyagers in their need.

They shall not fall on stony ground, But, yielding all their hundred-fold, Shall shed a peacefulness around, Whose strengthening joy may not be told, So shall thy name be blest of all, And thy remembrance never die; For of that seed shall surely fall In the fair garden of Eternity.

Exult then in the n.o.bleness Of this thy work so holy, Yet be not thou one jot the less Humble and meek and lowly, But let thine exultation be The reverence of a bended knee; And by thy life a poem write, Built strongly day by day-- And on the rock of Truth and Right Its deep foundations lay.

VII.

It is thy

DUTY

! Guard it well!

For unto thee hath much been given, And thou canst make this life a h.e.l.l, Or Jacob's-ladder up to Heaven.

Let not thy baptism in Life's wave Make thee like him whom Homer sings-- A sleeper in a living grave, Callous and hard to outward things; But open all thy soul and sense To every blessed influence That from the heart of Nature springs: Then shall thy Life-flowers be to thee, When thy best years are told, As much as these have been to me-- Yea, more, a thousand-fold!

THE LOVER.

I.

Go from the world from East to West, Search every land beneath the sky, You cannot find a man so blest, A king so powerful as I, Though you should seek eternally.

II.

For I a gentle lover be, Sitting at my loved-one's side; She giveth her whole soul to me Without a wish or thought of pride, And she shall be my cherished bride.