Part 1 (1/2)
The Comet and Other Verses.
by Irving Sidney Dix.
Foreword
A few years ago, while recovering from an illness, I conceived the idea of writing some reminiscent lines on country life in the Wayne Highlands. And during the interval of a few days I produced some five hundred couplets,--a few good, some bad and many indifferent--and such speed would of necessity invite the indifferent. A portion of these lines were published in 1907. However, I had hoped to revise and republish them, with additions of the same type, at a later date as a souvenir volume of verses for those who spend the summer months among these hills--as well as for the home-fast inhabitants. But in subst.i.tuting the following collection of verses I hope my judgment will be confirmed by those who chance to read these simple stanzas of one, who--
”Loves not man the less, but Nature more From those our interviews, in which I steal From all I may be or have been before, To mingle with the Universe and feel What I can ne'er express, yet cannot all conceal.”
I. S. D.
The Comet
Swift circuit-rider of the endless skies, Thou wanderer of the outer, unknown air, Amid those dim, uncharted regions there, Imagination droops--in deep surprise Man doth behold thee, and the fearful speed At which thou spurrest on thy flaming steed.
Born of the dark and ever-deepening Past, Who nurs'd thee there in yonder viewless s.p.a.ce Afar from earth--thy all-beholding face Hath gazed unspeakable, with clear eye cast Worldward on each magnificent return As if of human progress thou wouldst learn.
And thou hast seen each triumph and each plan By which the human race since human time Hath learned at last Earth's secrets all-sublime While rising from the elements to man-- Hast seen it triumph over sea and air And universal knowledge hope to share.
Thy circuit measures well the age of man, The epoch of a life--and few there be Who seeing thee, thy face again may see, For human life is but a little span, With varying cycles of a different day, And in diffusion wears itself away.
Child of the Sun, when first the human eye Beheld thee coursing in the night afar Like an illumined spectre of a star-- Beheld thy awful form against the sky Strong men fell earthward with a coward-cry On their pale lips, as if afraid to die--
And that brute King--Nero, the cruel King, When looking on thy fiery face unknown, Sate trembling on his little human throne, And thought that thou didst evil tidings bring-- That thou wert writing on the distant skies A doom from which no human king could rise.
Thy age is all unknown--man can but guess The time when first the Sun thy circle set-- He can but guess thy secret birth--and yet Observing thee his knowledge is not less; He knows each cycle, each return to be A moment in that vast eternity.
Recording-comet of th' immortal s.p.a.ce, What history thy eye hath look'd upon Since first thy airy, circling course was run!
What fallen pride! What scatterings of race!
Jerusalem and Nineveh and Rome Didst thou behold from thy almighty dome--
Didst thou behold--their birth, their rise, their fall-- Low humbled by the under hordes at last, With glory and fair triumphs in the past, And footprints of destruction over all.
While thou, fleet comet, with a light divine Continueth upon the earth to s.h.i.+ne.
Speed on! swift comet--turn, wanderer, turn!
And with thy flaming, G.o.d-like pen of light On heaven's scroll with burning letters write: Live but to love, O earth!--to love and learn, For while a comet's mighty cycles fail, Love,--love and truth forever shall prevail.
Was.h.i.+ngton