Ambrosial dreams with healthful slumbers wed! That so the Maiden may
With smiles your care repay
When from her couch she lifts her golden head, Waking with earliest birds
Leave warm 'mid the grey grass their dusky bed.
NOTHING MORE.
A sigh in the morning grey,-
And a solitary tear,
Slow to gather, slow to fall,-
And a painful flush of shame
At the mention of thy name :
This is little, this is all,
False One! that remains to say
That thy love of old was here,
That thy love hath pass'd away.
LOVE'S INSISTENCE.
If I desire with pleasant songs
To throw a merry hour away,
Comes Love unto me, and my wrongs
In careful tale he doth display;
And asks me how I stand for singing
While I my helpless hands am wringing.
And then, another time, if I
A noon in shady bower would pass,
Comes he with stealthy gestures sly
And, flinging down upon the grass,
Quoth he to me— My Master dear!
Think of this noontide such a year."
And if elsewhile I lay my head
On pillow, with intent to sleep,
Lies Love beside me on the bed
And gives me ancient words to keep : Says he "These looks, these tokens number! May be they'll help you to a slumber."
So every
An hour to quiet, comes he still,
And hunts up every sign conceal'd
time when I would yield
And every outward sign of ill;
And gives me his sad face's pleasures
For Merriment's or Sleep's or Leisure's
CHARLES GEORGE ROSENBERG.
THE WINged horse.
Wake from your homes in tomb and shroud!
Wake, Splendours of the Past!
Joy divine, and Passion proud,
Hope sublime, and Vision vast!
Let our love your glories trace
Eye to eye and face to face;
Let our arms your beauties bind :-
Or are ye like the wind
To sight impalpable, too thin for our embrace?
Fire and water have we bound
To the car and to the wheel
With harness and with trace of steel;
A living speech and utterance found
For the very lightning's speed:
Every element compell'd
To our luxury or need;
And with a certain prophecy
Learn'd to count the courses held
By the chance-worlds that whirl on high,
The nightmares of a dreaming sky.
Surely it were an easy task
After this to bend and yoke
The mighty Thought of ages past, The Horse our younger fathers broke : The wondrous Steed
Whose wind-wing'd speed
Treads on the hill-top and the cloud,-
The glorious Horse
Whose sun-paved course
The young Greek and Roman bow'd,—
The Steed whose mane,
Like golden rain,
A glory round the Italian shed
On the great road through Hell and Heaven
His restless will alone might tread,-
The Horse with living music shod
To the one bard of England given,
By whom, as by a guiding God,
His tramp of melody was driven
Through every deep and hidden part
Of that strange thing the human heart.
And yet the Song is still,
And on the cloud and hill
Does the strong Steed unbitted stray;
The wave and air we tame,
Harness the wind and flame,—
Uncurb'd and free his glories play.
None the Wing'd One's speed may yoke,—
Lost the bit, the bridle broke,—
Unknown the might, unseen the way.
He alone may mount the Steed
To whom the ancient spell is known;
He its magic letters read
Who has the Will, and he alone :
And the Will our souls have sold
For the love of steel and gold,-
Sold the mighty for the mean,
Truck'd the priceless for the vile,
Barter'd for the foul the clean;
And, instead of weeping, smile.
In the name of Truth alone
Might the ancient rider feel
The strength to curb the heavenly Steed :
A very child would scarcely need
Scourge in hand or spur on heel
If that little word were known;
But giant brawn and Titan force-
Strength of muscle and of mind-
Human wit and might combined,
Were those letters five unread,
Ill upon the task were sped
To mount and curb the glorious Horse.
Earth is old, but then was young:
They were children, We are men :
Youth's great hymn of faith is sung:
Clay which counts could worship then.
Give us a God-a living God,
One to wake the sleeping soul,
One to cleanse the tainted blood
Whose pulses in our bosoms roll :
A vigorous faith's refreshing breath,
To make us hunger for the True,—
A faith to quicken and renew
The nightmare of our Life-in-Death!
Come it how or whence it may,
That Faith divine, that earnest Will,—
This alone may teach the way
To curb and bit the Wing'd One still.
Truth and Faith are ever wed,-
Faith alone the cloud may tread
And look unblinded on the Sun.
This was the magic of the Dead:
They had a faith,—and we have none.
THE BATTLE OF GOD.
So strive, so rule, Almighty Lord of All!
So greatly win thy planet-victory!
So gloriously what baffles bring in thrall!
So strongly work, Earth's final jubilee
With gladness and with singing to instal!
And man may work with the great God: yea, ours
This privilege,—all others how beyond!
To tend the great Man-root until it flowers;
To scorn with godly laughter when Despond
Tamely before a hoary hindrance cowers;
Effectually the planet to subdue,
And break old savagehood in claw and tusk;
That noble end to trust in and pursue
Which under Nature's half-expressive husk
Lies ever from the base conceal'd from view;
To draw our fellows up, as with a cord
Of love, unto their high-appointed place,
Till, from our state barbaric and abhorr'd,
We do arise unto a royal race:
To be the blest companions of The Lord.
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