Freedom, Truth And Beauty Part 13

THE SUNRISE

The Sun is G.o.d's great joy to Human sight.

Oh, up and off in chariots, Sea! and ride, All generations, up, till mountain-eyed, To welcome earth-ward, G.o.d's Supreme delight.

Imagination swirls in swallow flight, Giddy with Beauty, deepening--Oh, how glide From star to star, to the haloes, season-dyed And countless! Its wings shrivel up like night.

Oh, yea, the Sun in one subliming rise From Wisdom's infinite mind! This Reason knows.

It has no set. There, Sense, with weals or woes For beads, or fingers, count our shuts of eyes, Excluding Knowledge. What! G.o.d's joy to close And all its goodness break and drift cloud-wise?

TWO DARKNESSES

There are two darknesses; one where the Lord Hides beauty--that by which men know His face.

All, in that darkness, feel His fingers trace Their features gently, and their hearts record The feeling, as of one, whose eyes, restored, Would see, but for the Father's close embrace.

The other is the outer dark--a place Where hate turns black the light upon it poured.

O G.o.d! the only darkness that I dread, Is where Thou art not--that where Hate's black fire Surmounts the heavens, to burst with thunder dire And, in its fall forever, drag the dead Of heart and spirit--those whom Thy desire Would fain have made the halo round Thy head.

THE DOOM OF HATE

A spirit pa.s.sed the Sun, the Moon and Star, And dwelled and dreamed in darkness all its own.

The music of the spheres, though thither blown, As faint as fragrance from a flower afar, Disturbed this spirit's ear, attuned to jar Of orb with orb; for hate of light, truth known, Fas.h.i.+ons hot worlds which, cooled to clay and stone, Clash, rising toward calm Heaven, which they would mar.

Ah, if where love was not, he smiled elate, His smile at G.o.d returned, a lightening flash That shattered him. He saw his planets clash, Burst and, then, by the downward law of hate, Sink and leave not a single spark, nor ash, For the new firmament he would create.

THE EVIL IN THE WORLD

There are two G.o.ds--one, Good, the other, Ill.

They clash in Nature--so the Persian taught, And long a sect in Europe spread the thought.

Why there is evil is a problem still To many, who see not in Human Will, A being that with beauty could have caught Up to his Maker, had he gladly wrought With light and warmth, instead of dark and chill.

G.o.d said, "Let there be Light," and light was made.

G.o.d made not darkness--that is light's exclusion, Forming a region where, in wild confusion, Men, Nations, each a ferret, blood-eyed shade, Worry each other, till, with disillusion For lamp, comes conscience, crying, "G.o.d Betrayed!"

THE EARTH RENEWED BY MEMORY

Ah, in the angel-fall from Heaven, is hope?

The wing-whir discord of the legion's fall From G.o.d forever, mocks my heart's loud call.

Empty of beauty from its base to cope, The Earth is hollow. Where, then, can I grope And not be met by echoes that appal?

What! shouts my mind, in wonder that I crawl And, having skyey wings, in hollows mope.

Does scent from bloom, or warble from the wood, Not atmosphere the un-aerial void Twixt thee and beauty, which thy youth enjoyed?

Fly back to earth, by memory renewed; She fills the hollow, echoing hosts destroyed,-- With Spring, reflecting Heaven's Triumphant Good.

IN THE DIMPLE OF BEAUTY'S CHEEK

O beauty! in the dimple of thy cheek, My love could live forever and be blest.

There, with the sun, a rose-bud on thy breast, How thou rejoicest, hastening to speak To thy fond Father! Oh, how vain to seek A sweeter refuge for the Spirit's rest, Than mid thy blushes, when thou marvelest At His great love, for, oh! thy heart is meek.

Oh beauty! in thy Father's arms, thou art.

Enclose me in thy dimple; for, though this Were but a bud, or molded seed, what bliss To watch bloom gather scent, or new life start, And hear our Father, bending for a kiss, Whisper to thee, the secrets of His heart!

THE CAMP FIRE

Beauty is love and, hence is heightening fire, Consuming Nature. All the dark can bring To quench it, feeds it. Look! how everything Is caught in the blaze, which mounts up high and higher!

Oh! truly, 'tis a vision to inspire The soul with transport, more than joy can sing; For, if not for the blaze, what cold would sting Poor mortals, who crowd round it, nigh and nigher!

Is beauty not the camp-fire, which one host Leaves burning for another, close behind?

Yea, yea, the Powers Divine, O Human Kind!

Have left their camp-fire burning on the coast, Where they embarked from glimpse of Human mind, To give you warmth and light to hold your post.

MOTHER

All beings, legioning celestial light, Moved in procession toward a vacant throne.

Their chant was faith and hope, as, now, our own.

At last, it came to pa.s.s, their faith grew sight.

They saw One Star in night's down-fall, stay white And, by the Holy Spirit brighter blown, Ascend in Heaven, till there, as high and lone, As over Nature's marveling zenith height.

Reaching the throne, its queen, this star became.

Awed by the Triune's Honor as her crown, The legions, circling, soared with eyes cast down; But, when their wonder heard the strange, new name In Heaven, from Christ's lips, "Mother," how they shone, Reflecting Christ's child-eyes, with love aflame!