How humble and how proud I grew, How rich by merely giving! She went to school, the parlour-maid Slow stepping to her trot; That parlour-maid, ah, did she feel How lofty was her lot! Across the road I saw her lift I envied Raleigh; my new coat A hoard of never-given gifts I cherished, priceless pelf; 'Twas two whole days ere I devour'd That peppermint myself. In Church I only prayed for her— "O God bless Lucy Hill;" Child, may his angels keep their arms Ever around you still. But when the hymn came round, with heart That feared some heart's surprising Its secret sweet, I climb'd the seat 'Mid rustling and uprising; And there against her mother's arm Oh I have loved with more of pain Yet could I almost be content A year or two, you murmuring elm, To dream a dream so sweet. THE SECRET OF THE UNIVERSE: AN ODE. (By a Spinning Dervish.) I spin, I spin, around, around, And close my eyes, And let the bile arise From the sacred region of the soul's Profound ; Then gaze upon the world; how strange! how new! The earth and heayen are one, The horizon-line is gone, The sky how green! the land how fair and blue! Perplexing items fade from my large view, And thought which vexed me with its false and true Is swallowed up in Intuition; this, This is the sole true mode Of reaching God, And gaining the universal synthesis Which makes All-One; while fools with peering eyes Dissect, divide, and vainly analyse. So round, and round, and round again! How the whole globe swells within my brain, The stars inside my lids appear, The murmur of the spheres I hear Throbbing and beating in each ear; The centre of the world's great wheel. No stay, no stop, Like any top Whirling with swiftest speed, I sleep. No utterance of the servile mind With poor chop-logic rules agreeing Here shall ye find, But inarticulate burr of man's unsundered being. |