Poems: Together with Brother Jacob and The Lifted Veil

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Harper & brothers, 1885 - 380 pages

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Page 68 - CANNOT choose but think upon the time When our two lives grew like two buds that kiss At lightest thrill from the bee's swinging chime, Because the one so near the other is. He was the elder and a little man Of forty inches, bound to show no dread, And I the girl that puppy-like now ran, Now lagged behind my brother's larger tread. I held him wise, and when he talked to me Of snakes and birds, and which God loved the best, I thought his knowledge marked the boundary Where men grew blind, though angels...
Page 99 - MAY I join the choir invisible Of those immortal dead who live again In minds made better by their presence : live In pulses stirred to generosity, In deeds of daring rectitude, in scorn For miserable aims that end with self. In thoughts sublime that pierce the night like stars, And with their mild persistence urge man's search To vaster issues.
Page 99 - This is life to come, Which martyred men have made more glorious For us who strive to follow. May I reach That purest heaven, be to other souls The cup of strength in some great agony, Enkindle generous ardor, feed pure love, Beget the smiles that have no cruelty — Be the sweet presence of a good diffused, And in diffusion ever more intense. So shall I join the choir invisible Whose music is the gladness of the world.
Page 99 - Rebellious flesh that would not be subdued, A vicious parent shaming still its child Poor anxious penitence, is quick dissolved ; Its discords, quenched by meeting harmonies, Die in the large and charitable air. And all our rarer, better, truer self, That sobbed religiously in yearning song, That watched to ease the burden of the world, Laboriously tracing what must be, And what may yet be better...
Page 15 - For with thy coming Melody was come. This was thy lot, to feel, create, bestow, And that immeasurable life to know From which the fleshly self falls shrivelled, dead, A seed primeval that has forests bred. It is the glory of the heritage Thy life has left, that makes thy outcast age : Thy limbs shall lie dark, tombless on this sod, Because thou shinest in man's soul, a god, Who found and gave new passion and new joy That...
Page 70 - But sudden came the barge's pitch-black prow, Nearer and angrier came my brother's cry, And all my soul was quivering fear, when lo ! Upon the imperilled line, suspended high, A silver perch ! My guilt that won the prey, Now turned to merit, had a guerdon rich Of hugs and praises, and made merry play, Until my triumph reached its highest pitch When all at home were told the wondrous feat, And how the little sister had fished well. In secret, though my fortune tasted sweet, I wondered why this happiness...

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