A CHORUS OF HUMAN SPIRITS IN THE MIST.
FAR in the shuddering spaces of the North
We live. We saw a Shape
Of terror rise and spread and issue forth;
And we would fain escape
The anger of his frown. We know him not,
Nor whether it be he
Who claims our homage, for the shadows blot
The sun we may not see.
We lift our prayers on heavy wings to one
Who dwells beyond the sun;
Whose lightnings are decrees of life or doom;
Whose laws are veiled in gloom.
Thick clouds and darkness are about thy throne
Where thou dost reign alone.
And we amid the mists and shadows grope,
With faint bewildered hope.
We fear thy awful judgments, and thy curse
Upon thy Universe.
For we are told it is a fearful thing,
O thou Almighty King,
To fall into thy hands. O spare the rod—
Thou art a jealous God!
O save us by the blood of him who died,
That sin might not divide
Our guilty souls from heaven and Christ and Thee.
And yet we dread to see
Thy face. How can the trembling fugitive
Behold thy face and live!
VOICE BEHIND THE MIST.
Fear not, for ye shall live if ye receive
The life divine, obedient to the law
Of truth and good. So shall there be no frown
Upon his face who wills the good of all.
CHOIR OF ANGELS IN THE DISTANCE.
God who made the tempest’s wingèd terror
And the smile of morn,
Who art bringing truth from sin and error,
Love from hate and scorn;
Lo, thy presence glows through all thy creatures,
Passion-stained or fair;
Saint and sinner bear the selfsame features
Thy bright angels wear.
Human frailty all alike inherit,
Yet our souls are free.
Giver of all good, it is no merit
That we turn to thee.
Thou alone art pure in thy perfection.
We thy children shine
But as our soiled garments take reflection
From thy light divine.
Thou art reaching forth thine arms forever,
Struggling souls to free.
Leading man by every good endeavor
Back to heaven and thee!
CHORUS OF PLANETARY SPIRITS.
The presence that awed us and chilled us
Dissolves in the dews of the morning.
The darkness has vanished around us,
And shrunk to the shadows that color
The cloud flakes of gold and of purple:
So vanish the thoughts that obscured us,
The doubt and the dread of the evil
That stained the starred robe of Creation.
And we hear but one music pervading
The planets and suns that are shining—
The spirits that pine in the darkness
Or float in the joy of the morning.
SEMICHORUS I.
Have we wronged thee, O monarch of shadows?
Have we named thee the Demon of spirits?
We know that the good and the evil
Each mortal and angel inherits—
The evil and good that are twisted
As fibres of brass and of gold—
To the All-seeing Eye have a meaning
We know not—too vast to be told;
But the wise and the merciful Father,
Though they stray in the desert and wold,
Will lift up his lambs to his bosom,
And gather them into his fold.
SEMICHORUS II.
Yet the guilt and the crime that have triumphed,
Though shining in purple and gold,
Shall bring their own sure retribution,
As the prophets of ages have told.
For Justice is sure in the order
That rules through the heavens of old.
VOICE OF A PROPHET.
Aye, though no tyrant’s stern decree enforce
The law, yet Justice still must hold its course;
Sure as the power that draws the falling stone,
Sure as the electric thrill from zone to zone,
The ocean’s tides, the round of day and night,
The burning tropic sun, the winter’s blight—
So follows, though long years have hid the seed,
The fatal fruitage of the evil deed.
VOICE OF A PHILOSOPHER.
Yet not, we must believe,
Like man’s infirm opinion
And incomplete tribunals
God’s larger judgments stand.
He sees the Past and Present;
He knows the strong temptations;
The nets where lie entangled
The creatures of his hand.
He knows the deep enigmas
No mortal mind has solved.
The armed and banded legions,
That bind earth’s captives down,
Hold no divine commission
To pass the final sentence.
Heaven holds its perfect balance,
And smiles above their frown.
SONG OF HOPEFUL SPIRITS.
1.
Praise, praise ye the prophets, the sages
Who lived and who died for the ages;
The grand and magnificent dreamers;
The heroes, the mighty redeemers;
The martyrs, reformers and leaders;
The voices of mystical Vedas;
The bibles of races long shrouded
Who left us their wisdom unclouded;
The truth that is old as their mountains,
But fresh as the rills from their fountains.
2.
And praise ye the poets whose pages
Give solace and joy to the ages;
Who have seen in their marvellous trances
Of thought and of rhythmical fancies,
The manhood of Man in all errors;
The triumph of hope over terrors;
The great human heart ever pleading
Its kindred divine, though misleading,
Fate held it aloof from the heaven
That to spirits untempted was given.
CHORUS.
The creeds of the past that have bound us,
With visions of terror around us
Like dungeons of stone that have crumbled,
Beneath us lie shattered and humbled.
The tyranny mitred and crested,
Flattered and crowned and detested;
The blindness that trod upon Science;
The bigotry Ignorance cherished;
The armed and the sainted alliance
Of conscience and hate—they have perished,
Have melted like mists in the splendor
Of life and of beauty supernal—
Of love ever watchful and tender,
Of law ever one and eternal.
SONG OF A WISE SPIRIT.
The light of central suns o’erflows
The unknown bounds of time and space.
The shadows are but passing shows
And clouds upon Creation’s face.
From out the chaos and the slime,
From out the whirling winds of fire,
From years of ignorance and crime,
From centuries of wild desire,
The shaping laws of truth and love
Shall lift the savage from the clod;
Shall till the field and grid the grove
With homes of man and domes of God.
And Love and Science, side by side,
With starry lamps of heavenly flame,
Shall light the darkness far and wide;
The wandering outcast shall reclaim;
Shall bury in forgotten graves
Blind Superstition’s tyrant brood;
Shall break the fetters of the slaves;
Shall bind the world in brotherhood;
Shall huff all despots from the throne,
And lift the saviors of the race;
And law and liberty alone
From sea to sea the lands embrace.
HYMN OF A DEVOUT SPIRIT.
The time shall come when men no more
Shall deem the sin that taints the earth
A demon-spell—a monstrous birth—
A curse forever to endure;—
Shall see that from one common root
Must spring the better and the worse;
And seek to cure, before they curse,
The tree that drops its wormy fruit.
For God must love, though man should hate
The vine whose mildew blights its grapes;
Shall he not clothe with fairer shapes
The lives deformed by earthly fate?
O praise him not that on a throne
Of glory unapproached he sits,
For deem a slavish fear befits
The child a father calls his own.
But praise him that in every thrill
Of life his breath is in our lungs,
And moves our hearts and tunes our tongues,
Howe’er rebellious to his will.
Praise him that all alike drink in
A portion of the life divine,
A light whose struggling soul-beams shine
Through all the blinding mists of sin.
For sooner shall the embracing day,
The air that folds us in its arms,
The morning sun that cheers and warms,
Held back their service, and decay,
Ere God, who wraps the Universe
With love, shall let the souls he made
Fall from his omnipresent aid
O’ershadowed by a human curse.
SONG OF AN EVOLUTIONIST.
1.
All in its turn is good
And suited to its time;
Fire-mist and cosmic flood,
Ice, rock, and ocean slime;
Savage and Druid stern,
Faith typed in legends wild.
The mills of God still turn;
Order is Discord’s child.
Ever from worse to better
Breaks Nature through her fetter—
The spirit through the letter.
One vast divine endeavor,
One purpose still pursued—
Upward and onward ever—
All in its turn is good.
2.
Up from the centre striving
Through countless change on change,
Through shapes uncouth and strange—
The weakest doomed to perish—
The strongest still surviving;
Purpose divine in all.
Whether they rise or fall
Pledged to maintain and cherish
Types higher still and higher,
To struggle and aspire.
One vast divine endeavor
Upward and onward ever—
Through fish and bird and beast—
Power that hath never ceased—
Through darkness and through light—
Through ape and troglodyte,
Till best with best unite;
Through melancholy wastes
Of unknown time and space—
A power that never hastes,
And never slackens pace
Until the human face,
Until the human form
Beautiful, and swift and warm,
Awaits the crowning hour,
And blooms—a spirit-flower—
Upward and onward ever
One primal plan pursued.
All in its turn is good.
SONG OF AN OLD POET.
I sang of Eden and Creation’s morn;
Of fiend and angel, triumph and despair.
I caught the world’s old music in the air—
The strains that from a people’s creed were born.
I soared with seraphs, walked with lords of doom;
Basked in the sun and groped in utter dark.
I lit the olden legends with a spark
Whose radiance but revealed eternal gloom.
I stood enveloped in a cloud o’ercharged
With thunder; and the blind mad bolts that flew
Were heaven’s decrees. They spared alone the few
Whose hearts by grace supernal were enlarged.
Upon imagination’s star-lit wings
I flew beyond the steadfast earth’s supports,
And stood within Jehovah’s shining courts,
And heard what seemed the murmur of the springs,
The streams of living and eternal youth.
Was it a dream? Hath God another Word
Than that between the Cherubim we heard
When Israel served the Lord with zeal and truth?
Are those but earthborn shadows that we saw
Thronging the spaces of the heavens and hells?
Is there a newer prophet-voice that tells
The trumpet-tidings of a grander law?
The lurid words above the fatal door—
The door itself—the circles of despair
Are fast dissolving in serener air.
They were but dreams. They can return no more.
No more the vengeance of a demon-god;
No more the lost souls whirling in black drifts
Of endless pain. The wind of morning lifts
The fog where once our groping footsteps trod.
I looked, and lo! the Abyss was all ablaze
With light of heaven, and not abysmal fire;
And fain would tune to other chords my lyre;
And fain would sing the alternate nights and days—
The days and nights that are the wings of Time;
The love that melts away the eternal chains;
The judgments only of remedial pains;
The hidden innocence in guilt and crime.
The sunlight on the illumined tracts of earth
Sprang from the darkness, pale and undiscerned.
And the great creeds the world hath slowly learned
Are truths evolved from forms of ruder birth.
The tides of life, divine and human, swell
And flood the desert shore, the stagnant pool.
And sage and poet know, where God hath rule
There is no cloud in heaven—no doom in hell.
FULL CHORUS OF THE PLANETARY SPIRITS.
1.
Hear ye, O brothers, the voices around that are swelling in chorus?
Nearer and sweeter they rise and fall through the nebulous light:
Voices of sages and prophets—while under our footsteps and o’er us
Roll in their orbits the worlds whose circles we tracked through the night.
2.
Melting away in the morning, we follow their pathways no longer,
Knowing the hand that has guided will bear them forever along;
Bear them forever, and shape them to destinies fairer and stronger
Than when the joyous archangels hailed their creation with song.
3.
Not with a light that is waning—not with the curse of a dooming,
They shall accomplish their cycles through ages of fire and of cloud:
Ever from their chaos to order unfolding, progressing, and blooming,
Till with the wisdom and beauty of ages on ages endowed.
4.
Out of the regions of discord, out of the kingdoms of evil,
God in the races to come shall abolish the reign of despair.
Who shall confront his decrees with the phantoms of demon and devil?
Who shall unhallow the joy of his light and the health of his air?
5.
Lo! on the day-star itself there are spots that, coming and going,
Send through the spaces mysterious thrillings like omens of blight.
And the great planets afar are convulsed, as when winter comes blowing
Over the shuddering oceans and islands of tropical light.
6.
Shadows are shadows; and all that is made is illumined and shaded,—
Bound by the laws of its being—heaven and earth in its breath.
He who hath made us will lift us, though stained and deformed and degraded—
Lift us and love us, though drowned in the surges of darkness and death.