Andromeda and Other Poems Part 6

A floating, a floating Across the sleeping sea, All night I heard a singing bird Upon the topmost tree.

'Oh came you off the isles of Greece, Or off the banks of Seine; Or off some tree in forests free, Which fringe the western main?'

'I came not off the old world Nor yet from off the new-- But I am one of the birds of G.o.d Which sing the whole night through.'

'Oh sing, and wake the dawning-- Oh whistle for the wind; The night is long, the current strong, My boat it lags behind.'

'The current sweeps the old world, The current sweeps the new; The wind will blow, the dawn will glow Ere thou hast sailed them through.'

Eversley, 1848.

THE DEAD CHURCH

Wild wild wind, wilt thou never cease thy sighing?

Dark dark night, wilt thou never wear away?

Cold cold church, in thy death sleep lying, The Lent is past, thy Pa.s.sion here, but not thine Easter-day.

Peace, faint heart, though the night be dark and sighing; Rest, fair corpse, where thy Lord himself hath lain.

Weep, dear Lord, above thy bride low lying; Thy tears shall wake her frozen limbs to life and health again.

Eversley, 1848.

A PARABLE FROM LIEBIG

The church bells were ringing, the devil sat singing On the stump of a rotting old tree; 'Oh faith it grows cold, and the creeds they grow old, And the world is nigh ready for me.'

The bells went on ringing, a spirit came singing, And smiled as he crumbled the tree; 'Yon wood does but perish new seedlings to cherish, And the world is too live yet for thee.'

Eversley, 1848.

THE STARLINGS

Early in spring time, on raw and windy mornings, Beneath the freezing house-eaves I heard the starlings sing-- 'Ah dreary March month, is this then a time for building wearily?

Sad, sad, to think that the year is but begun.'

Late in the autumn, on still and cloudless evenings, Among the golden reed-beds I heard the starlings sing-- 'Ah that sweet March month, when we and our mates were courting merrily; Sad, sad, to think that the year is all but done.'

Eversley, 1848.

OLD AND NEW: A PARABLE

See how the autumn leaves float by decaying, Down the wild swirls of the rain-swollen stream.

So fleet the works of men, back to their earth again; Ancient and holy things fade like a dream.

Nay! see the spring-blossoms steal forth a-maying, Clothing with tender hues orchard and glen; So, though old forms pa.s.s by, ne'er shall their spirit die, Look! England's bare boughs show green leaf again.

Eversley, 1848.

THE WATCHMAN

'Watchman, what of the night?'

'The stars are out in the sky; And the merry round moon will be rising soon, For us to go sailing by.'

'Watchman, what of the night?'

'The tide flows in from the sea; There's water to float a little c.o.c.kboat Will carry such fishers as we.'

'Watchman, what of the night?'

'The night is a fruitful time; When to many a pair are born children fair, To be christened at morning chime.'

1849.

THE WORLD'S AGE

Who will say the world is dying?

Who will say our prime is past?

Sparks from Heaven, within us lying, Flash, and will flash till the last.

Fools! who fancy Christ mistaken; Man a tool to buy and sell; Earth a failure, G.o.d-forsaken, Anteroom of h.e.l.l.

Still the race of Hero-spirits Pa.s.s the lamp from hand to hand; Age from age the Words inherits-- 'Wife, and Child, and Fatherland.'

Still the youthful hunter gathers Fiery joy from wold and wood; He will dare as dared his fathers Give him cause as good.

While a slave bewails his fetters; While an orphan pleads in vain; While an infant lisps his letters, Heir of all the age's gain; While a lip grows ripe for kissing; While a moan from man is wrung; Know, by every want and blessing, That the world is young.

1849.