Poems of James Russell Lowell Part 9

Each on his golden throne, Full royally, alone, I see the stars above me, With sceptre and with diadem; Mildly they look down and love me, For I have ever yet loved them; I see their ever-sleepless eyes Watching the growth of destinies; Calm, sedate, The eyes of Fate, They wink not, nor do roll, But search the depths of soul-- And in those mighty depths they see The germs of all Futurity, Waiting but the fitting time To burst and ripen into prime, As in the womb of mother Earth The seeds of plants and forests lie Age upon age and never die-- So in the souls of all men wait, Undyingly the seeds of Fate; Chance breaks the clod and forth they spring, Filling blind men with wondering.

Eternal stars! with holy awe, As if a present G.o.d I saw, I look into those mighty eyes And see great destinies arise, As in those of mortal men Feelings glow and fade again!

All things below, all things above, Are open to the eyes of Love.

IV.

Of Knowledge Love is master-key, Knowledge of Beauty; pa.s.sing dear Is each to each, and mutually Each one doth make the other clear; Beauty is Love, and what we love Straightway is beautiful, So is the circle round and full, And so dear Love doth live and move And have his being, Finding his proper food By sure inseeing, In all things pure and good, Which he at will doth cull, Like a joyous b.u.t.terfly Hiving in the sunny bowers Of the soul's fairest flowers, Or, between the earth and sky, Wandering at liberty For happy, happy hours!

V.

The thoughts of Love are Poesy, As this fair earth and all we see Are the thoughts of Deity-- And Love is ours by our birthright!

He hath cleared mine inward sight; Glorious shapes with glorious eyes Round about my spirit glance, Shedding a mild and golden light On the shadowy face of Night; To unearthly melodies, Hand in hand, they weave their dance, While a deep, ambrosial l.u.s.tre From their rounded limbs doth s.h.i.+ne, Through many a rich and golden cl.u.s.ter Of streaming hair divine.

In our gross and earthly hours We cannot see the Love-given powers Which ever round the soul await To do its sovereign will, When, in its moments calm and still, It re-a.s.sumes its royal state, Nor longer sits with eyes downcast, A beggar, dreaming of the past, At its own palace-gate.

VI.

I too am a Maker and a Poet; Through my whole soul I feel it and know it; My veins are fired with ecstasy!

All-mother Earth Did ne'er give birth To one who shall be matched with me; The l.u.s.tre of my coronal Shall cast a dimness over all.-- Alas! alas! what have I spoken?

My strong, my eagle wings are broken, And back again to earth I fall!

SOMETHING NATURAL.

I.

When first I saw thy soul-deep eyes, My heart yearned to thee instantly, Strange longing in my soul did rise; I cannot tell the reason why, But I must love thee till I die.

II.

The sight of thee hath well-nigh grown As needful to me as the light; I am unrestful when alone, And my heart doth not beat aright Except it dwell within thy sight.

III.

And yet--and yet--O selfish love!

I am not happy even with thee; I see thee in thy brightness move, And cannot well contented be, Save thou should'st s.h.i.+ne alone for me.

IV.

We should love beauty even as flowers-- For all, 'tis said, they bud and blow, They are the world's as well as ours-- But thou--alas! G.o.d made thee grow So fair, I cannot love thee so!

A FEELING.

The flowers and the gra.s.s to me Are eloquent reproachfully; For would they wave so pleasantly Or look so fresh and fair, If a man, cunning, hollow, mean, Or one in anywise unclean, Were looking on them there?

No; he hath grown so foolish-wise He cannot see with childhood's eyes; He hath forgot that purity And lowliness which are the key Of Nature's mysteries; No; he hath wandered off so long From his own place of birth, That he hath lost his mother-tongue, And, like one come from far-off lands, Forgetting and forgot, he stands Beside his mother's hearth.

THE LOST CHILD.

I.

I wandered down the sunny glade And ever mused, my love, of thee; My thoughts, like little children, played, As gayly and as guilelessly.

II.

If any chanced to go astray, Moaning in fear of coming harms, Hope brought the wanderer back alway, Safe nestled in her snowy arms.

III.

From that soft nest the happy one Looked up at me and calmly smiled; Its hair shone golden in the sun, And made it seem a heavenly child.

IV.

Dear Hope's blue eyes smiled mildly down, And blest it with a love so deep, That, like a nursling of her own, It clasped her neck and fell asleep.

THE CHURCH.

I.

I love the rites of England's church; I love to hear and see The priest and people reading slow The solemn Litany; I love to hear the glorious swell Of chanted psalm and prayer, And the deep organ's bursting heart, Throb through the s.h.i.+vering air.

II.

Chants, that a thousand years have heard, I love to hear again, For visions of the olden time Are wakened by the strain; With gorgeous hues the window-gla.s.s Seems suddenly to glow, And rich and red the streams of light Down through the chancel flow.