Or bolder, as my thoughts inspire, Change that water into fire!
From the vext bowels of my soul
Lava currents roar and roll,
Bursting out in torrent wide
Through my crater's ragged side,
Rushing on from field to field,
Till all with boiling stone is seal'd,
And my hot thoughts, in language pent,
Stand their own granite monument !
Yes! all the elements are mine,
To crush, create, dissolve, combine,—
All mine, the confidence is just,
On GOD I ground my high-born trust
To stand, when pole is rent from pole,
Calm in my majesty of soul,
Watching the throes of this wreck'd world
When from their thrones the Alps are hurl'd,
When fire consumes earth, sea, and air,
To stand, unharm'd, undaunted there,
And grateful still to boast in this,-
"My mind to me a kingdom is."
Brother poet, dead so long,
Heed these echoes to thy song,
And love me now, where'er thou art,
Yearning with magnetic heart
From thy throne in some bright sphere
On this poor brother, grovelling here:
For I too, I, can stoutly sing
I am every inch a king!
A King of Thought, a Potentate
Of glorious spiritual state,
A king of Thought, a king of Mind,
Realms unmapp'd and undefined,—
A King! beneath no man's control,
Invested with a royal soul,
Crown'd by GoD's imperial hand
Before Him as a King to stand,
And by His wisdom train'd and taught
To rule my realms as King of Thought.
O thoughts! how ill my fellow-men,—
O thoughts! how scantly my poor pen
Can guess or tell the myriad host
Wherewith you crowd my kingdom's coast!
For I am hemm'd and throng'd about
With your triumphant rabble rout,
Hurried along by that mad flood,
The joy-excited multitude,
A conqueror, borne upon the foam
Of his great people's gladness home,
A monarch in his grandest state,
On whom a thousand thousand wait!
Lo! they come-my Tribes of Thought,
Fierce and flush'd and fever-fraught!
From the horizon all around
I hear with pride their coming sound;
THE MIND'S KINGDOM.
See! their banners circling near,—
Glittering groves of shield and spear,
Flying clouds of troopers gay,
Serried lines in dark array,
Veterans calm with temper'd sword,
And a dishevell'd frantic horde,—
On they come with furious force,
Tramping foot, and thundering horse,
On they come, converging loud,
With clanging arms, a glorious crowd,
Shouting impatient, fierce and free,
For me their Monarch, yea, for me!
Then, in my majesty and power,
I quell the madness of the hour,
Bid that tumultuous turmoil cease,
And frown my multitudes to peace.
Each to his peril and his post!
All hush'd throughout my mighty host:
Courage clear, and duty stern,—
Heads that freeze and hearts that burn;
Marshall'd straight in order due,
Legions! pass in swift review,
Bending to my blazon'd Will,
Loyal to that standard still,
And hailing me with homage then
King of Thoughts-and thus, of Men?
What am I powerless to control
Nations by my single soul?
What! have I not made thousands thrill
By the mere impulse of my will,
When the strong Thought goes forth, and binds Captive a wondering herd of minds!
And is not this to reign alone,
More than the ermine and the throne,
The jewell'd state, the gilded rooms,
The mindless jay in peacock plumes?
Yes, if the inmate soul outweighs
Its dull clay house in power and praise,
Yes,-if Eternity be true,
And Time both false and fleeting too,
Then, humbler kings, my boast be this,
My mind to me a kingdom is."
And what, though weak and slow of speech,
Ill to comfort, dull to teach?
What, though hiding from the ken
Of my small prying fellow-men,—
Still within my musing mind
Wisdom's secret stores I find,
And, little noticed, sweetly feed
On hidden manna, meat indeed,
Blessed thoughts I never told,
Unconsider'd, uncontroll'd,
Rushing by as thick and fast
As autumn leaves upon the blast,
Or better like the gracious rain
Dropping on some thirsty plain.
And is not this to be a king,
To carry in my heart a spring
Of ceaseless pleasures, deep and pure,
Wealth cannot buy, nor power procure?
Yea, by the poet's artless art,
And the sweet searchings of his heart,
By his unknown unheeded bliss,—
Place me on some desert shore
Foot of man ne'er wander'd o'er;
Lock me in a lonely cell
Beneath some prison citadel;
Still, here or there, within I find
My quiet kingdom of the Mind :
Nay,-mid the tempest fierce and dark,
Float me on peril's frailest bark,
My quenchless soul could sit and think
And smile at danger's dizziest brink:
And wherefore?-GOD, my GOD, is still
King of kings in good and ill,
And where He dwelleth-everywhere—
Safety supreme and peace are there;
And where He reigneth-all around-
Wisdom, and love, and power are found,
And reconciled to Him and bliss,
"My mind to me a kingdom is."
Thus for my days; each waking hour
Grand with majesty and power,
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