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 THE LIBRARY 
 
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 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
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 LOS ANGELES
 
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 SUNRISE IN ITALY, 
 
 ETC.
 
 LONDON : 
 GEORGE WOODFALL AND SON, 
 
 \\i.ll ((HUT, SKINNER STREET.
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY, 
 
 ETC. 
 
 REVERIES. 
 
 BY HENRY MORLEY. 
 
 " No man, I affirm, will serve his fellow-beings so effectually, so fervently, as he who is nut their slave. 
 All the truths of Religion conspire to one end — Spiritual Liberty." — Channing. 
 
 LONDON : 
 JOHN CHAPMAN, 142, STRAND. 
 
 MDCCCXLVIIl.
 
 p. 
 
 5- 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Sonnet — ' Strains of the Truth which was, and ever is' . 
 Sunrise in Italy ....... 
 
 Sonnet — ' Honour to Prelates of this English Church ' . 
 Morning in Europe ..... 
 
 Sonnet — ' A blessing on the breath of Pestilence ' 
 
 Morning Clouds 
 
 Sonnet — ' Dissent, but disagree not, nor deny' 
 Sonnet — ' Not unto Eye of Man the glance belongs ' 
 Sonnet — ' Justice no longer sups on human blood ' 
 Sonnet — ' Until thou be Omniscient, forbear' 
 Alethe ........ 
 
 Sonnet — ' Not beneath Love's inexorable sway ' 
 Nemophil ........ 
 
 Stanza — ' Night hath to God departed, prayer-laden ' 
 Translation from Lamartine's ' Joceltn ' 
 Sonnet — ' With Spiritual Freedom, and the growth ' 
 
 Page 
 
 vii 
 
 1 
 
 64 
 
 65 
 
 78 
 
 70 
 
 92 
 
 93 
 
 94 
 
 95 
 
 97 
 
 122 
 
 123 
 
 154 
 
 155 
 
 163 
 
 775496
 
 SONNET. 
 
 Strains of the Truth which was, and ever is, 
 
 Reflection to the Poet doth impart ; 
 
 Yet with no uniform content thine heart, 
 
 Reader, will receive his Reveries. 
 
 For of the Universe of Thought small part 
 
 A single husbandman can cultivate, 
 
 And sow few grains out of a heap too great 
 
 For finite numbering. Yet do not start, 
 
 Nor turn thine eyes away, when he shall bring 
 
 Fair blossoms, raised from seed which thou wert used 
 
 To shun as worthless, nor, the gift refused, 
 
 Those blossoms inattentive from thee fling: 
 
 But judge thou, whether they be wasteful weeds 
 
 Or sprung of Truth's imperishable seeds.
 
 V
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 B
 
 A RG T WENT. 
 
 Part I. 
 ( >i.n and Young Italy prior to the accession of Pius IX. — The Death of Gregory 
 XVI. — A Plea for Religious Toleration.— The Character of the late Pope. 
 
 Interval. 
 A Vindication of Shelley. — The Progress of the Human Race. 
 
 Pake II. 
 Pope Pius IX. establishes Liberty of Thought under his Rule. — The Amnesty. 
 — Procession and Benediction of the People. 
 
 Part III. 
 Pope Pius IX. decrees the establishment of Schools throughout his Dominions. — 
 Previous neglect of Education. — How to educate the Children of the Poor. 
 
 Interval. 
 Principles of Education. — The Child is a Child of God, not of the Devil. — Its 
 innate Capacities. — Natural Education provided in the Events of Life. — The false 
 Principles upon which Schools are generally conducted have bred Contempt of the 
 Profession of Teacher. — In what way to guard the unfolding of an Infant's Mind. 
 — Love - Imagination — Reason. — The Mind must be at no Period coerced, but 
 assisted to developing it-* Faculties according to their own healthy Proportion. — 
 The Duties of the Parent. — When the Child should cease to be educated at 
 Home. — The Girl, never. — The Boy. Course of Study. — The Importance of 
 Natural Science as a Foundation. — History — Languages. — They tend to enlarge 
 the Spirit. —Knowledge deepens the Trust of Man in God. — Return to the Sub- 
 jed of the Poem. — Unexpected awakening of Thought in Europe.
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 " With diligence, dear Grandfather, your praises I have earned ; 
 Two hundred and two score and ten Popes' histories I 've learned 
 And had you not been kind enough of many to explain 
 That things continued much the same as in a former reign, 
 
 " I should have been well puzzled ; but the task is now complete : 
 The Popes have clone their best to make Battista grow discreet." 
 So said a boy, with ruddy cheek upon an old man's shoulder. 
 " What wisdom I have learned, I hope to prove when I am older." 
 
 " You speak too lightly, wayward child. — Look, whither points my hand ? 
 Hourlong beneath yon castle walls I see my pupil stand, 
 And think there comes a voice from them which his young spirit hears, 
 That then Battista meditates upon his mother's tears." 
 
 b 2
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 " I hear a voice," the youth replied. " My father's prison tells 
 Its dismal, dream-like secrets ; and the light is in its cells, 
 Like conscience in a mocking heart, whenever the gaudy show 
 < tf fire doth play, at Carnival, above Sant Angelo. 
 
 • A mother's tears: — the burning sun, and all that God hath made, — 
 The - ng-birds of the forest, and the flowers of the glade, — 
 
 All things teach me to meditate upon my mother's grief." 
 
 " And, with their sad monition, do they bring thee, child, relief?" 
 
 • Yes. To the purest sunbeam do not men deny access? 
 
 Mid from their homes and from their cheeks ward off its warm caress? 
 
 The song-bird, for its singing, to a prison is exiled, 
 
 Prom nest and mate is parted, — as my father from his child. 
 
 •• The flower for the beauty of its blossom is destroyed, — 
 [g plucked before the seed-time, with a short life half enjoyed ; 
 They do not heed how rapidly from day to day it dies 
 Of pining for it- sister-buds, its native earth ami skies.
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY 
 
 " My father, for the music and the manhood of his voice, 
 Is prisoned like the bird whom God created to rejoice — 
 My father, for the glory of a blush upon his brow, 
 Is fading, like a gathered rose, in cold Sant Angelo. 
 
 " My father, for the light of truth which on his firm lip plays, 
 Is shut out from the eyes of men who, darkling, fear to gaze. 
 They dare not meet his countenance, and therefore, tutor dear, 
 My mother weeps a widow, and I stand an orphan here." 
 
 " You stand, my child," saith Alban. " It were better did you kneel. 
 The power of authority — go forth, Battist, and feel ! 
 The son will never conquer where the father fought in vain : — 
 Shall the widow wander childless, will you rend her heart a^ain?" 
 
 " May a thousand generations dedicate to God their breath. 
 Though the mantle of the prophet be the solemn robe of death, 
 It is still a prophet's mantle ; still is worthy to descend 
 The holy mission, " Seek ye good, and dare to meet your end ! ' " —
 
 6 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 " It is not good," saith Alban, " to resist the powers that be, 
 And all too weakly have I taught their high authority. 
 We read and listen — not behold — as men upon a brook 
 Learn moonlight by reflection, and, as downward still they look, 
 
 " The glory that is distant seems no more to be sublime ; 
 
 Made near, 'tis but a spectacle, a sport in summer time, 
 
 To look upon, to pelt with stones in idle summer play 
 
 And watch the silver rings they make, the glitter of the spray. 
 
 So seems a prince in history. Not so upon the throne. 
 At him it is no idle thing to cast thy little stone. 
 Men's 8 words are his protection, and God's Word is his support: 
 God Baith, 'Obey,' — to disobey, Battist, is fearful sport." 
 
 " God saith. 'Obey,' dear Grandfather; obedience then be mine 
 
 To give; kings' words shall even be authority divine. 
 
 \,,t more, — you would not more?" — " My child, more power cannot be," 
 
 Saith Alban. — " Then the King of kings, what power claimeth He?
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 " God made us to His will, and yet He leaves us to our own ; 
 And what our hearts conceive, He gives us language to make known. 
 He bids us to seek good, and yet He, Source of Good for ever, 
 Prompts not one human syllable, compels not one endeavour. 
 
 " He watches all, and punishes the evil that is done. 
 
 Love through free-will our God demands from all beneath the sun. 
 
 No king is king of heaven to unsettle God's decree. 
 
 No prince hath power to bind the soul : it must — it will — be free ! " 
 
 Against a wan and furrowed cheek, a crimson cheek is pressed ; 
 A bended neck by brawny arms is tenderly caressed ; 
 Ripe lips of youth with fondling kiss delight the lips of age ; 
 Battista, with a glance of hope, doth Alban's fear assuage. 
 
 The black locks of the boy across the old man's bosom fall; 
 The darker heart, whose hope is dead, they cover like a pall. 
 Shine seventeen warm summers through the bold Battista's eye, 
 While rustle eighty autumns through the timid Alban's sigh.
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 •• Now hear you not my mother's step? — Oh, do not turn away ! 
 Her footfall soundeth weary. We are supperless to-day. 
 Oh. let not tliv errief grieve her — let us feed her with our love — 
 Her heart is in Sant Angelo, her hope in God above. 
 
 " How pale she is! — Dear mother, — " but Battista speaks no more. 
 With Btrangely solemn tenderness upon the boarded floor 
 Of her mean home the woman kneels ; — not with a face of care, 
 Though tremblingly her pallid lips are shaken by a prayer. 
 
 To God the prayer, — but her eyes, her clasped, extended hands, 
 Her heaving bosom turn to where her husband's prison stands. 
 And Btill her bosom swelleth when her prayer is at end, 
 There dawning hope and twilight awo for mastery contend. 
 
 •• Look at the robe of sunset on Saint Peter's ruddy dome, 
 Look steadily; and let there be deep silence in the room. 
 For God will speak." — Upon her son the trembling mother leans, 
 The old man ponder-, anxiously what this wild bidding moans.
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 9 
 
 They hear each other breathing. Young Battista's breath is soft. 
 
 His mother's cometh quickly now, now stops, suspended oft ; 
 
 Old Alban sigheth heavily. Hark ! hark ! Saint Peter's bell. 
 
 A mighty death-toll. — " Kneel with me ; — join prayers with yonder knell ! 
 
 " Pray thou, Battist : — a mighty foe is gone *; — 
 Go thou to God for aid, — forsake all other ! " 
 
 " Teach me, Lord, to lean on Thee alone — 
 To judge myself, and not to judge my brother. 
 
 " Happy the man whose heart condemns him not. 
 
 Whose heart I see not, let not me condemn. 
 To every age its path thou dost allot ; 
 
 The tide of Progress, error cannot stem. 
 
 " Teach me to hate injustice, and to love 
 
 And pity all them who unjustly deal ; 
 As Thou, All-Righteous, stooping from above, 
 
 Towards us sinners dost all mercy feel. 
 
 * Gregory XVI.
 
 10 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 " Teach me to struggle ever for that Right 
 
 Which may be wrong, yet doth to me right seem, 
 
 Rut never taunt with mockery and spite 
 
 That which another doth more worthy deem. 
 
 • We all are weak, and error more or less 
 
 Will make our noblest labours incomplete; 
 Thy Truth is vast, and ever must progress 
 
 The mind which would not its own hope defeat. 
 
 • The Pope, whose soul is fleeting unto Thee, 
 
 Strove in the flesh to worship Thee aright ; 
 And if his actions would dishonour me, 
 
 From him they were true dealings in thy sight. 
 
 " Teach me, Lord, for ever to pursue 
 
 The path which conscience may to me proclaim 
 
 And while I labour to maintain the True, 
 No right in censure feel; no truth in blame.
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 1 L 
 
 " No right ill censure against class or sect, 
 
 Though what to me seems falsehood I must hate. 
 
 Thou with Thy favour dost all men protect. 
 Men of all climes shall enter Heaven's gate. 
 
 " Acts we can read, but actors are impelled 
 
 By motives ill revealed to mortal sight. 
 Foul deeds must be in foul abhorrence held. 
 
 Man may do foully from a sense of right. 
 
 " Therefore to Thee, Father God, to Thee, 
 From all intolerance, all stubborn grudge, 
 
 Teach me to yield my heart for ever free ; 
 To Thee and Jesus, the beloved Judge ! 
 
 " Whether a sunbeam or a single mote 
 Disturb the clearness of our upward gaze, 
 
 Enough we gaze. Enough our hearts devote 
 To Thee all service, gratitude, and praise. 
 
 c2
 
 12 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 " Enough we knock ; Thy gates are open wide.- 
 Enough we ask ; Thy blessings are bestowed. - 
 
 Enough we come: to none shall be denied 
 The living waters which for all have flowed." 
 
 How beautiful is prayer! Let the soul be desolate, 
 And grant that human fancy man's Creator does create, 
 How noble yet the glance which seeks to penetrate the sky, 
 The spirit, upon Earth so meek, which yet would climb so high. 
 
 i 
 
 How glorious the myriad of upward-looking eyes 
 From every race throughout the world all tending to the skies. 
 Has man no God, — so mighty is this universal prayer, — 
 Has man no home beyond the stars, — it can create one there. 
 
 Vel ( rod there is, and God is friend and father to us all. 
 
 On each eye that looketh upward doth the light of Heaven fall.
 
 S1XRISE IN ITALY. I \\ 
 
 By that image which reminds him of the Virgin pure and mild, 
 Or the cross which tells the sorrows of her ever perfect child, 
 From the lips of lowly peasant, counted on a rosary, 
 Be the prayers holy, pleasant to our Father they will be. 
 
 In the kneeling congregation, bowed before a God Triune, 
 
 Praying with the priest in surplice, — praying through the old hymn-tune 
 
 Of his fathers, doctrine-doubting, — praying unto God as one, 
 
 Praying to one God and seeking Jesus as His angel-son. 
 
 In cathedral, church, or chapel, in the closet or the field, 
 Heart to God that hath been opened, ever hath by God been healed. 
 Never was true prayer fruitless, God will answer who will call, 
 On each eye that looketh upward doth the light of Heaven fall. 
 
 To the heathen who adoreth Him above as Brahma named ; 
 To the savages who know the name of Christ to be ashamed, 
 Who know it as a war-cry from the greedy and the proud, 
 Who spurn the faith of lustful thieves, and with the misty cloud
 
 14 SI NRISE IN ITALY 
 
 Of wonderful Theology compare their simple creeds, 
 
 Or doubt a bettor doctrine till confirmed by better deeds ; 
 
 Unto all is Heaven open. God is Father to us all. 
 
 On each eye that looketh upward doth the light of Heaven fall. 
 
 How glorious the spirit when the body is outworn, 
 Its stalwart limbs and sparkling looks of all their splendour shorn, 
 With scarcely strength to clasp the hands, and scarcely sight to see 
 The sunlight, while the body bends, the spirit is set free. 
 
 That noble ruin, holy corpse, still statue shaped to prayer, — 
 Part tenderly its folded palms, with low rejoicing bear, 
 And longing love, unto the graves its consecrated clay; — 
 How beautiful, among the dead, when mourning Christians pray. 
 
 But when tin,' limbs are sturdy, and the lip is red with health, 
 When the life-blood yet thrills warmly, and the heart can feel the wealth 
 I )f earthly love, and youth delicious wonders wherefore age is sad, 
 When to breathe is to be happy, and to see is to be glad ;
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 15 
 
 Then more beautiful than moonlight, brighter than the morning star, 
 
 Then beyond the blinding glory of the sun upon his car, 
 
 Is the spectacle to angels of the young knee that is bowed, 
 
 Of the young brow lifted God-ward, — the white brow without a cloud. 
 
 In the prayer of Battista fondly bore his mother part, 
 With the movement of his lips there moved in unison her heart. 
 And when he paused she kissed him ; — but no word of love she said. 
 Old Alban laid a trembling hand upon Battista's head : — 
 
 " Thine is an easy doctrine, child, but narrower the way 
 
 By which the children of the night may reach the realms of day. 
 
 There is one only path to bliss, whereon so lately trod 
 
 The holy father of our church- — the orphaned church — of God. 
 
 " Giovanna, daughter, hast thou not a prayer for the dead?" 
 " No prayer for the infallible — all prayer's fountain-head. 
 Yet my forgiveness follows him, and in his prison-cell 
 My husband kneels, forgiving, as he hears the solemn knell.
 
 16 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 " Pope Gregory sought God, as God to him had been revealed ; 
 Blind, not self-blinding; cold, but not by cruel nature steeled 
 Against the world without. He held to that which he received, 
 And what tradition taught him he too fervently believed. 
 
 ■• An earnest student in the lore of many an Eastern land, 
 His movement in the world was like a wave's upon the sand ; 
 He moved not like a river, onward, forward to the last, 
 But limited to narrow bounds an idle life he passed. 
 
 " To him the labours of mankind were labours of the pen; 
 He studied books, not hearts, — the words, and not the deeds of men. 
 Hearts struggling onward broke beneath the curbing of his will : 
 He held the chariot-reins, — held firm, — no more availed his skill. 
 
 •■ The chariot was motionless, the coursers shook the ground 
 I inpatient. Now the hand is gone which held them so long bound. 
 I lu-l>and, I feel thy prayer: — Now — now a worthy guide ! 
 Rest to the d<ad, — and progress to the living God provide!"
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 17 
 
 INTERVAL. 
 
 The delicate endearment of a simple lay which trills 
 From lips which never parted but for duty or delight ; 
 
 Its melody ariseth, and a tranquil heart it fills, 
 
 As violets shed perfume on the dreaming air of night. 
 
 As when, on distant journey bent, his threshold scarcely past, 
 A group of loving looks and lips the traveller surround, 
 
 And fondest are the forms of those from whom he parteth last, 
 Whose constant shadows follow him across the changing ground. 
 
 So now the tardy footsteps of a love-desiring song 
 
 By crowding shapes of loveliness are tenderly delayed ; 
 
 Of holy home and household hearts the soft reminders throng, 
 And to the land before it looks, half eager, half afraid. 
 
 D
 
 18 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 Love dies, yet doth it not depart. It lingers upon earth. 
 
 We weep, — for death's white mist around the fallen body rolls,- 
 While forms unseen between us glide, rejoicing at a birth 
 
 Into the mystic universe of ministering souls. 
 
 Our loss, their gain. Our gain it is ; for higher friends surround us. 
 
 Still with the mourner stays the mourned. The living love which 
 bound us 
 Death renders deathless ; parting makes a truer bond of union ; 
 
 An earthly friendship we exchange for heavenly communion. 
 
 Oft, pale, beside our peaceful hearth, — when love hath silence bred, — 
 I see one stand, forgetful of the tears which she hath shed. 
 Our God hath wiped them from thine eyes, beloved angel-friend, 
 Griefs that are pure are frail as dust ; thine in the grave had end. 
 
 This happy music in the room, thou nearest. — Even now 
 I see thee stooping, airy form, with meekly bended head, 
 
 A spirit sister's kiss to print upon that singer's brow. 
 
 Yes, still on earth ye dwell with us, ye spirits of the dead !
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 19 
 
 The dead dwell near us. — Love, sing on ! — The hidden things of sight 
 
 Grow clear if song the senses steep in delicate delight. 
 
 No earthly memory declares it is thy form I see, 
 
 And yet I know thee, Mother; — thou art gazing upon me. 
 
 Yes, daily faith, and daily fear, and daily fault, alas ! — 
 
 Vain faith, vain fear, yet all not vain — the calm and holy ray 
 
 Of those blue eyes doth light upon. More ready than the grass 
 Before the breeze, I bow. I hear an angel-mother pray. 
 
 Sing on, dear love ! — Through thee, for thee, throbs satisfied her heart, 
 The spirits of the dead, love, murmur blessings over thee. 
 
 The lost ones dwell around us ; in our household taking part, 
 Here even upon earth they bid a peace like Heaven be. 
 
 Now cease ! — Read to me, Violet ; — of Laon, if you will, 
 
 Or of Wisdom free in fetters ; of Prometheus the song 
 
 Sung by him whom men rejected, — but whose hymning lives to fill 
 
 Countless hearts of generations yet to come with hate of wrong. 
 
 d 2
 
 •JO SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 From thy lips, beloved, gladly do I hear his gentle lore. 
 He whose angel-nature loudly seekcth Love for evermore, 
 He who, hated, hunted, tortured, sang melodious only Love ; 
 Love, the highest aim of worship; — he, a foe to God above! 
 
 Foe to lust, and wrong, and rapine ; foe to all unholy deeds ; 
 Is it ln> who mocks his Maker? Doth he God deny who reads 
 In all nature love and beauty ; — in the persecutor sees 
 But an object of forgiveness ; — who from wrong with horror flees ? 
 
 God-deniers, then, are angels; Christians herd with devils then: 
 If our Shelley be an atheist, his oppressors Christian men. 
 God in Love the Poet worshipped ; bowed before the God of all. 
 Doth there live a God of Hatred, quickly may his temple fall ! 
 
 See the child-like poet kneeling by the margin of the stream, 
 Sporting with bis boats of paper — turning from the cruel dream 
 Which the world creates around him, while his noble spirit pours 
 Manly thoughts through mighty music, as a flood through rocky shores.
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 21 
 
 What if, turning with abhorrence from the fictions of a creed, 
 He fled, and feared to meet the Right, beneath a mask of Wrong ; — 
 His poet-soul, by man untaught, in sky and earth could read, 
 And in Itself, the Truth of God. All worship was his song. 
 
 And is it sinful to deny that God can be unjust, 
 
 Make man by nature prone to wrong, and strike him to the dust — 
 
 Nay, deeper than the dust, to Hell, and to eternal fire — 
 
 When he shall sin ? Rules such a God, not Heaven I desire. 
 
 What, God malignant ! Or is He, good-willing, yet so frail 
 That the first man His power wrought of His design should fail — 
 Should fail, and snatch from myriads the power to do well ; 
 For all men darken Heaven, and throw wide the gates of Hell ! 
 
 All love is God. For Adam's sons no garden was designed 
 As everlasting dwelling-place. The mighty seed of mind, 
 In Eden planted, over worlds shall spread its future glory, 
 As rises high above the sands some lofty promontory.
 
 22 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 All pure was Adam. God-beloved; susceptible of all 
 The wonderful impressions which on human senses fall. — 
 Who battles with a passive foe? Trial, resistance came 
 To force the mind to action, to compel mankind to claim 
 
 With right its high prerogative. Rain comes from God to flowers, 
 And tears upon his path, — to man these too are needful showers. 
 Fed on its course by countless rills, man's power ever grows, 
 A brook among those ancient hills, a gulf-stream here, it flows. 
 
 The world of stars — vast works of God — man's soaring heart attains ; 
 The past, ere men were born, he reads. His intellect explains 
 How good is God in all we see, — the bird, the leaf, the stone. 
 Man breaks out beauty from the rock, paints with a music tone. 
 
 Kver progressive — onward yet, beyond the world of dreams — 
 Farther than fancy travel can — the mighty river streams. 
 And with the mind the higher soul must grow till it achieves 
 Man- final end ; — the fruit must come, still we put forth but leaves.
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 23 
 
 That higher soul by God himself progressively was taught. 
 
 First the great Law to mortals came, Be just. This Moses brought 
 
 Downward from Sinai. This by great examples God defined. 
 
 Then Right for right, and Wrong for wrong, taught justice to mankind. 
 
 This man's first lesson ; but the next said, Be God's likeness sought. 
 The second Law, Be merciful, Forgive. This Jesus brought 
 Downward from Heaven. God confirmed : Hear ye, my Son ! Believe ! 
 Give love for hate. Do ill to none. Give rather than receive. 
 
 This Spirit works and still must work. Wave rolleth upon wave, 
 Yet distant is the coming tide from shores which it must lave. 
 The soul progresses, but not yet hath it so far progressed 
 That on the accomplished will of God it satisfied may rest. 
 
 Time shall destroy all enmity ; and future days shall bring 
 A pure and holy age of Love ; the spirit of our King 
 Entirely comprehended ; love which casteth out all fear. 
 Ye fight about Millennium. Cease fighting; it is here.
 
 •24 SUNRISE IN ITALY 
 
 Can God love the imperfect ? — He bedews the growing plant. 
 To trees while budding, sun and rain His providence doth grant. 
 He tends as well the fig-tree in its youth as in its prime. 
 God visits not His vineyard only in the vintage time. 
 
 So all tends onward. Nations so new glory must acquire. 
 To laws of Love and Liberty all races must aspire. 
 Unto all be peaceful triumph over ignorance and sin. 
 O righteous Will of Man, arise, this Victory to win !
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. L ; f> 
 
 PART II. 
 
 This is thy heart, O changing Rome, — this is thy heart, Man ! 
 A maiden, gladly thrilling, whom one loving arm may span, 
 From the garden land of childhood through the wider world of love 
 Carries flowers in her bosom. Recollections float above 
 
 The dark waters of oblivion, light as rose leaves. Ringeth free 
 
 On the ripe lip of the woman the clear laugh of early glee ; 
 
 Glee of years when happy fancies idly sang the time away, 
 
 Whose memories like stars are shining through the moonlight of to-day. 
 
 A temple, built to Jupiter when Rome and earth were young, 
 
 The cross surmounts, — and hymns therein to Jesus now are sung. 
 
 Yet graven still on many a stone the memories remain 
 
 Of worship which within its walls can never wreathe again. 
 
 E
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 It wreathed ; — the young world's flower-crown laid at a Parent's feet, 
 Rude, worthless, yet a pledge of faith. Was not its odour sweet 
 Ere yet it perished ? — Jove men named, Jehovah was their Lord ; 
 God in a thousand fancies, still was God whom they adored. 
 
 Maturer years bring higher love. Passionate first, half-blind, 
 Faith lifts the loved one to the sky, gladly enslaves the mind 
 To homage questionless ; yields all, asks nothing in return. 
 In- the beloved wise or weak, love will as hotly burn. 
 
 A temple, built to Jupiter when Rome and earth were young, 
 The cros- surmounts, and hymns therein to Jesus now are sung. 
 White ve-tments, incense, choristers, priests among holy shrines 
 Of saints are there; — and equally through truth and error twines 
 
 One golden band, — a love divine, — through flower, bud, and leaves. 
 New ways are open to the heart; one will our God perceives 
 Jn all who kneel before Him in the spirit and in truth; 
 He love- u- in our childhood, and He loves us in our youth.
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 27 
 
 This is thy heart, changing Rome ; — this is thy heart, Man, — 
 This temple built for prayer which reveals the mighty plan 
 Of growth eternal. Yet thine age of manhood is to come, 
 When Love shall wander fetterless, and Earth be one wide Home. 
 
 Though shall be free and worship one, equal and uncompelled. 
 Those antique traces, these rich shrines, as memories still held, 
 Shall deck a temple for mankind which not a foot will shun, 
 When all shall worship by one Love, as all see by one sun. 
 
 Then is the time of labour ; then this strong world shall fulfil 
 Its master's bidding, with glad hope and one according will. 
 Thereafter death ; when, like a figure kneeling on the shore 
 Of a wide ocean, starlit, man shall bend and be no more. 
 
 White vestments ; incense ; choristers ; priests among holy shrines 
 
 Of saints ; vast aisles, athwart whose gloom the ray of sunset shines 
 
 Through windows many-hued with dreams, winged angels, martyr woes, 
 
 So shines the mighty gospel-light through patterns men compose. 
 
 e 2
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 Huge marble columns, capitals ornate with rich design ; 
 Sculptors' apostles before which submissive groups incline ; 
 The Virgin mother, lovely birth, won by much happy pain 
 And willing labour, in old times, from the warm painter's brain. 
 
 Lamps in the temple numberless, for night will be ere those 
 
 Who linger last shall leave the church and its wide gates shall close; 
 
 Incense fills all, and melody — thine is the strain, Mozart, 
 
 Delight in adoration, praise which sings out of the heart. 
 
 Gloom is between the columns where a little household kneels : 
 Old Alban sought a spot retired, for darkness now conceals 
 His tearful prayer; young Battist is at his mother's side; 
 Giovanna, praying restlessly, wills not to be descried. 
 
 Not upward to the shrine she looks, nor downward to the floor; 
 Her back is to the altar, and her face to the church-door: 
 Now, sharing in the sacred chant, a loud exulting praise 
 Her lips pour forth, then suddenly the flood of song she stays
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. "29 
 
 To listen ; and Battista, nestling near his mother's breast, 
 Feels tear drops quickly falling-, while his head is fondly pressed. 
 " Our peace is come," she whispered him. " Stay by my father here, 
 A step I know treads in the porch ; — a face, than thine more dear, 
 
 Will smile out Widow from my heart, Battista. Kneel thou still !" 
 Softly she rose. How much of bliss a human form can fill 
 Which yet shall move to outward sight with quiet step along ! 
 How much of joy the soul can speak through an adoring song! 
 
 So quietly Giovanna moved, so joined to the choir 
 
 Her carol. Now the eyes are full, the heart hath its desire. 
 
 A hand which trembles not she yields unto her husband's holding, 
 
 One look of welcome, — one proud glance her woman's love unfolding. 
 
 A silent, happy wife, her face shines with a holy care. 
 
 She touches her Antonio. Across the mist of light 
 
 To the high altar they advance, and meekly kneeling there 
 
 Bend, pressing closely side by side. — Now from the depth of night,
 
 30 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 Without the porch, another comes, and others, haggard men. 
 Household embraces meet them, children cling to them, and then 
 Love irrepressible with cries of joy the temple fills, — 
 Delicious tumult. Till some change the loud emotion stills. 
 
 No word of Priest. The ministers of God with altered voice 
 Preach of the prisons opened, while these youthful hearts rejoice, 
 No longer orphaned, widows smile, and the oppressed, let free, 
 Before the source of Liberty, press on to bend the knee, — 
 
 Before their God. Christ made us free, though Christians love a slave 
 Too often. So the holy Pope, now broken in the grave, 
 Had closed the dungeon doors on these, for dangerous the seed 
 They scattered. — An established state — a very ancient creed — 
 
 Compounded by right earnest men, who duly damned and cursed 
 
 All differing interpreters, and made it pain of hell 
 
 To say, 'I think not as you do, and I will not be nursed 
 
 And take this physic, when I feel that I am strong and well' —
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 31 
 
 This state some thought could be improved ; this creed some thought 
 
 defective 
 In charity, if not in faith. With merited invective, 
 These sowers of false heresy, their bodies were confined 
 In dungeons, since they would not dwell in prisons of the mind. 
 
 A new Pope on the Gospel builds his power ; letteth fall 
 
 The chains which Christ commanded not ; proclaiming unto all — 
 
 The true or false — an Amnesty ; to all who for the cause 
 
 Of Liberty lie captive. — Why does now the tumult pause ? 
 
 The quelling pause, when suddenly the solemn organ's tone 
 Dies into stillness, over these no thrilling spell has thrown. 
 Redoubled praise, in measures changed — Beethoven's mystic sea 
 Of music, deep and swelling as the soul of man set free, 
 
 Drenches the temple. In rare hours can pure emotion rise 
 More fitly winged to God than thus. No eagle to the skies 
 Soareth more grandly upward than the mighty master's strain ; 
 A cloud with sunbeams purple, dropping beauty like a rain.
 
 ;>'_' SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 J luge marble columns, capitals ornate with rich design, 
 
 White vestments, incense, choristers, men, from before each shrine 
 
 Arising, on the temple floor assemble, where above 
 
 Hang lamps, like bright star-clusters, glittering o'er the scene of love. 
 
 Forth issuing from the church, with one consent this night to preach 
 Unto the world that Hope wherewith all Italy grows warm, 
 These haggard men, with wives and friends collecting around each, 
 By priests and boys with censers joined, a strange procession form. 
 
 From the radiance and the music, out into the silent street, 
 Dark until the torches light it, as the crowding Romans meet, 
 Meet, and gather round, and join them, men and wives and children go 
 From all sides to travel with them troops in noisy torrents flow. 
 
 From the churches, from the houses, from the river and the square, 
 From their idling, and their labour, and their quickly finished prayer, 
 Thousands upon thousands throng with torches, join the growing band, 
 Nol with murder-singing trumpet, with no blazonry made grand,
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 33 
 
 Not with gold in corpse-light lustrous, trappings gay of ghastly death, 
 Moves this troop. The priest its leader, and its music is the breath 
 Of a spirit which the fetters of its slavery hath burst 
 War of Love alone it wageth, where the gentlest rank the first. 
 
 Now from all Rome pours forth at length that ever-rising word 
 Wherein a waking nation makes its loud emotion heard — 
 So long repressed — Italy, hope Freedom ! — And the cry 
 Is 'Viva Pio!' — this like fire spreadeth and swelleth high. 
 
 There, sobbing, walk, — as many sob, — with happy terror blessed, — 
 A] ban, Battist, Antonio, Giovanna, closely pressed, — 
 So dense the concourse. Walls and windows glare around all red 
 Through ruddy smoke of torches which the crowd waves overhead. 
 
 May Sunrise be o'er Italy when this night's torch is out ! 
 Light, fit emblem of the joy which prompts that rising shout, 
 Light, breaking down the gloom, such hope doth in this land arise — 
 Forsake her not ! With purest ray bathe yet again her skies ! 
 
 F
 
 '\4 SUNRISE IN ITALY 
 
 The lofty Quirinal reflects the torchlight in the square. 
 
 To that assembled city there comes forth into the glare 
 
 Pope Pius, — idol of a land by him aroused to see 
 
 Living the form of Hope it loved in dreams. All bow the knee. — 
 
 A sick man tossing on his bed, whose window looketh down 
 On those assembled thousands, might have fretted to a frown 
 At some lone moth attempting to fly through the glass, and might 
 Have hated it for living in the stillness of the night, 
 
 While forty thousand men of Rome in breathless love were bent, 
 Receiving benediction. They arose, and each man went 
 Sil.ntly homeward. But, before they parted, full of Hope, 
 With one great shout of pleasure shook the palace of their Pope.
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 35 
 
 PART III. 
 
 " How still the noon is ! " said a mason, as he laid his hammer down. 
 " Ambrose, I will cease my chipping. Turn your face towards the town. 
 When the clocks chime in Netuno, you will hear them very well — 
 Bring the basket — and their music, son, shall be our dinner bell. 
 
 " What, you thief, the fruit is eaten! When you should have been asleep, 
 While I worked, you were devouring. — Well, the basket still is deep. — 
 You shall go and gather shell-fish — go and paddle down the shore. 
 Or go up into the wood there. Do not vex me any more. — 
 
 " Wait. Who walks now in the village ? Look you, Ambrose, who is he ? 
 Like a priest — yes — you are right, boy. Father Bernard it must be. 
 Others stir not in the noonday. He has been with that sick child, — 
 So long sick, — in yonder cottage, where the garden has run wild. 
 
 f 2
 
 SINRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 ■■ When the good man passes by us, if he stop and say a word, 
 Ambrose, you must stay and listen; for your brains can ill afford 
 To dispense with such instruction as may come into your way. 
 Never walked the priest so slowly. He must curse the sun to-day." 
 
 In the centre of a village works Francesco ; and, around 
 His scene of toil, a ragged wall, half raised above the ground, 
 Includes an ample space. Close by, beside the market pool, 
 Moie workmen rest, and eat, and talk about the future school ; — 
 
 And why the Pope bids schools be built ? And whether he will find 
 Their own school, when the roof is on, built wholly to his mind? 
 They think the Pope and Emperor of Austria should fight, 
 If swords axe turned t<» spelling-books, and all the men of might 
 
 Aii- trained to use a grammar in the place of pike or gun, — 
 
 Where 's Solomon ? For here is something new under the sun. 
 
 But since tin- Pope decrees, Build schools, and teach throughout the land, 
 
 The Pope i> right. And they are poor; too poor to understand
 
 si VRTSE IN ITALY. Wl 
 
 The meaning of their betters. But they know the Pope does well, 
 And the aim of all his actions, were they wiser, they could tell. 
 Talking- thus in listless humour, lounging by the market pool, 
 Sit the builders, idly looking at their work, the Village School. 
 
 The white road and the houses glare beneath an autumn sky. 
 
 Across the blue there flits no cloud, and not a bird will fly. 
 
 The sea, a waving desert strewn with diamonds for sand. 
 
 The wood, unwaved, distinct, seems hewn out of the crystal land. — 
 
 " He will pass us, looking downward ! " — " Walks as if beside a bier ! " 
 " Now, God bless thee, Father Bernard. See, we are not idle here ! 
 Look, the School is growing ! " — " Hither, Father, turn thine absent eyes ! 
 Some unwonted light is in them." — " Hath he seen a spirit rise?" — 
 
 After gentle benediction grows the father's forehead clear, 
 
 And unto those idle builders by the pool he draweth near, 
 
 Saying, " Son, you guess not wrongly." — All regard him with surprise. 
 
 " Even near us, in the Village, I have seen a spirit rise.
 
 38 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 " You remember little Laurence, when he last played on the shore, 
 And faltered homeward, not again to pass his chamber door." 
 ■• And is he out to-day?" — " To-day his soul is gone abroad, 
 Next Sabbath eve his body will be borne the Sabbath road. 
 
 •• A Sabbath road unto the grave it is ; — a bridal bed 
 
 The coffin ; — a triumphal stone the grave-mark overhead. 
 
 < rladly, Lord, I seek Thy will with all this watchful breath: 
 
 Then welcome spirit-peopled night, star-crowded night of Death!" 
 
 The priest a moment pauses; and his words half understood 
 
 1 (reed second ignorance. His face is shrouded in his hood. 
 
 Bui as pearls thrown upon water are the sorrows of the wise. 
 
 They Bink into the depths; are still. — "That I have seen a spirit rise, 
 
 • ; I told you," saith the father, as he joins the gossip throng: 
 •■ The soul of little Laurence. Yes, you wonder. It was long 
 Before the hands of sickness wiped the stain of earth away. 
 For two long months was Laurence ill before he learned to pray.
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 39 
 
 " Prayers to repeat — learned when lie lisped — lie used, yet never prayed. 
 He stretched his arms to God, not loving; bent before him not afraid. 
 He did not hate, he knew not God. Could neither dread nor dare. 
 And, knowing neither hope nor fear, was free from human care. 
 
 " He cared for nothing ; yet o'er him his heavenly Father bent 
 And to the bed of sickness God his languid body sent, 
 To His best schoolhouse upon earth. Yet even this was vain. 
 God teaches reasonable man. The clear and awful strain 
 
 " Of Heaven's music pierceth not ears rendered deaf by pride, — 
 Ears finger-stopped ; — nor penetrates where the perceptions hide 
 In ignorance, fast blanketed, asleep. Man must employ 
 Reason in love. Must understand before he can enjoy. 
 
 " Where knowledge is not, there can be no thought. Thought is the root 
 Of worship ; — only through the soil of knowledge can it shoot 
 Its multiplying mouths, draw life, add substance to the tree 
 Whose fruit God shall accept. This child, holy God, for Thee
 
 40 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 • And for no worldly toil, I taught. The tender kiss of Death 
 He bad received, — kind, mother's kiss, — and daily felt her breath 
 As, conscious, in her bosom Laurence lived. Yet even then 
 Teaching came not too late. Truth dwells not only among men. 
 
 " A barren mind, a thoughtless faith, I found, and for the praise 
 
 Of God alone I laboured his unlifted soul to raise. 
 
 Yet carefully. A mass of words is not the gift of speech. 
 
 To show men bread, is not to feed, — nor to show facts, to teach. 
 
 " First out of idle converse, level with an idle mind, 
 
 Sprang words of meaning which provoked inquiry. Truths to find, 
 
 With aid of pleasant warnings and fond mysteries, became 
 
 A Bick-bed sport. For flowers so to search is children's game; — 
 
 " These exercise their limbs for health ; — we, seeking flowers as well, 
 Blossoms more precious, gave the soul free movement. For the shell 
 
 The nut i- sweeter. They who dive for treasures cast them not 
 \_.iin into the sea. < >r truth is like an arrow shot
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 41 
 
 " With aim unerring. Soon again he bends the obedient bow 
 Whom once success inspirits. Knowledge brings the wish to know. 
 Thus was it, friends, with Laurence. Sunlight, clouds, or a stirred leaf 
 At length shone, shadowed, stirred within his soul. Thus a belief 
 
 " In God among his childish thoughts sprung like a guiding light, 
 And Reason brought Religion. Tender Mercies, awful Might 
 In the Supreme our simple converse spread before his wakened eyes. 
 Day by day, my little Laurence, thus I saw thy spirit rise. 
 
 " Then little books, — of travel some, some stories of the stars 
 Or flower- world in simple phrase, — and tales of brutal wars, 
 Of evil and good men the lives, — I read, and upon each 
 Accustomed him to speak his thoughts, and by discussion teach 
 
 " His mind the perfect shape of Truth, where Error might be found 
 Like Truth disguised. By pillows propped, his lean arm clasped around 
 My neck as I stooped over him, so little Laurence grew 
 To know the God he loved, more sure to love the God he knew. 
 
 G
 
 4'2 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 - Thought thus awakened in him, when his simple heart could hold 
 A full, spontaneous worship, of Salvation then I told 
 The glad, good tidings. Glad to him in all its freshness came 
 The gospel word. Zeal ate his heart as a devouring flame. 
 
 " Jesus was ever on his lips ; and paler day by day 
 He grew as, meet for Heaven now, from Earth he died away. 
 By scanty lore of earth made ripe for commune in the skies, 
 My little child, to-day I saw thy happy spirit rise. 
 
 •• Pray for hi- bou] ! Yet little needs that spirit intercession. 
 Already of his heritage our Laurence hath possession. 
 Build on. His blessing sanctifies your labour; for to-day 
 Almost his latest action was for this our School to pray. 
 
 •• The holy Father of our Church to-day I love the more, 
 
 Since I have heard a dying child God's mighty grace implore 
 
 I »ii him who biddeth Schools be built." — " And so 'twas no real ghost, 
 
 Good Father lioniard." -aid Francesco; "and my little son has lost
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 43 
 
 " A sermon by not sitting here to listen. — Ambrose, come. — 
 You shall see that I am angry when I have you safe at home ! 
 He will not leave that butterfly. Young Laurence was his friend 
 And playfellow. How wondrously things very often end !" 
 
 The white road and the houses glare beneath an autumn sky ; 
 Across the blue there flits no cloud, and not a bird will fly. 
 The sea, a waving desert strewn with diamonds for sand ; 
 The wood, un waved, distinct, seems hewn out of the crystal land. 
 
 The sunlight glitters in the pool ; the workmen idle sit, 
 And scant attention to the priest their laggard brains admit. 
 Regarding Ambrose mournfully, the pious Father stands, 
 While Ambrose hunts the butterfly, a rough stone in his hands, 
 
 Filched from the builder's heap. " Child, do you hear of Laurence dead ? 
 From him to you, his little playmate," Father Bernard said, 
 " There is a love-gift left this morning. — God of Mercy — pardon thee !" 
 The stone has crushed the butterfly ; and Ambrose dances mad with glee. 
 
 a 2
 
 II SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 INTERVAL. 
 
 If children seek thee, it may be that thou hast earned the love 
 Of God, for rarely from the good Avill children turn away. 
 
 If children shun thee, search thine heart. The cynic never throve. 
 Love children. Let the golden-haired be comrade with the gray. 
 
 Conceived in sin and born accursed they are not. Children wear 
 
 The robe of Heaven, purity. Too soon we soil and tear 
 
 Their vestment, yet to us they come as twin-shapes from above 
 
 Of souls unstained. Them angels watch ; Christ lifted ; God can love. 
 
 This child to make a child of God shall be my daily task. 
 Is that to make him like thyself? Go, rather, kneel and ask 
 For help to make thyself like him. While yet all soil is strange 
 To the white soul, keep stains away. Teach children not to change.
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 1 5 
 
 It is not vile, an infant laughing when it meets the mother's glance. 
 It is not vile, its arms outspreading, gleesome with the merry dance, 
 From the lip when to her bosom, to her neck, it upward straineth, 
 And exulteth in the kisses which her proud affection raineth 
 
 On her child. Methinks with Satan hath that infant little kin. 
 And to thy knee, Pharisee, some prattler canst thou win, 
 Look for the Devil in its face, and find an Angel there ; — 
 Or find all vile : — Despair, and mourn corruption everywhere. 
 
 Acts beget thought. And thoughts by thought are yet again created. 
 So the soul fills and overflows. Its flood must be abated 
 Ere through the fitting channel of this song we can resume 
 The voyage whereon we started. As the delicate perfume 
 
 In the swelling cloud of incense rises when a censer swings; 
 As the copse is full of music when a single throstle sings ; 
 So a spreading cloud of perfume, so an all-pervading strain, 
 Current from as small a fountain, thought can pour into the brain.
 
 40 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 Not ever flies the bird ; it pauses often, singing in the trees. 
 
 So pauses, in its flight, my verse; this, like the bird, intent to please 
 
 Its innate sense. — to utter clearly, gladly, freely as the light 
 
 Whose ray it loves, its own emotion. What the heart speaks, that is right. 
 
 If wrong by rule, yet right by reason. If the blackbird's note be rude, 
 Is it not sweeter than the music of the school-taught multitude? 
 God to the blackbird gave his note, although he sings no do, re, mi ; 
 ( iod to the poet gave his conscience, though not orthodox it be. 
 
 Like eagles clipped, in hencoops dwelling, and dependent for their food 
 On the dolings of a keeper, seemeth still the human brood. 
 So never yet were eagles seen; man should not sink to lot so mean, 
 But upward, — Bunward, — Godward, soar; and downward look upon the 
 scene 
 
 I M earth from heaven. Freely mount thou — skies are open to thy flight. 
 I rod ever love. His will revering, let it lead thee to the light; 
 W'licn between His words of mercy man a gloss will interpose, 
 Freely use thine eyes upon it. Not a cloud from heaven flows;
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 47 
 
 Earth begets it. Yet to know, be taught. Fit judgment learn to frame. 
 Not like pear-trees to one pattern trained, and nailed against a wall, 
 Facing only half the heavens. Learn to know the Light, and claim 
 Part in sunrise, and in sunset; let all weathers on thee fall; 
 
 All the tempests. Let the north wind freely bite upon thy cheek ; 
 Dread no blighting east wind. Only this of him who tends thee seek ; — 
 Master, one thing will you teach me ; let the books mould on the shelf; — 
 Root me firmly, I can flourish ; let me learn to teach myself. 
 
 Now, beloved, to the children erring thought has wandered back. 
 Play me now some childish music lest again I lose the track, 
 Entered on this level desert, wide and barren yet of herb, — 
 Desert with a Land of Hope beyond it. Would I could disturb 
 
 Its drear silence evermore. That to the world my songs might be 
 Welcome as this happy voice of thine now welcome is to me. 
 Thou, love, singest well because thy heart is on the lip. Like source 
 My music has. Pure at the spring; yet runs a barren course.
 
 }^ SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 Not long-. For vet the wilderness shall blossom as the rose. 
 
 Life is not still ; — the root, the beast, the man and mankind grows. 
 
 The folly of to-day shall be the wisdom of to-morrow, 
 
 When laughter shall be turned to tears, and scorn shall die of sorrow. 
 
 A kiss delays thy singing, and to mine fresh impulse gives : 
 Mv 1 1 j > to love so sanctified. — While in thy silence lives 
 A moving spirit, I my head upon thy lap will rest, 
 And feel that spirit as it stirs thee. Thus, and thus caressed 
 
 By a rare touch, — so lightly touched, why does the body thrill? — 
 Thus purely nursed, pure thoughts alone the growing heart can fill. — 
 The mountains may point heavenward. The running brooks may teach 
 A lonely minstrel melodies of peace. The whispered speech 
 
 Of trees, whose thousand tongues in one deep unison of awe 
 Sigh answer to the wind-told tales of Heaven, this may draw 
 Prom man an echo-sigh, an echo-voice. What mountain looks 
 Up like a lovers prayer unto God? The running brooks
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 49 
 
 No peace can murmur like the peace which on the voice subdued 
 Of a human love streams ever. And the forest's breath is rude, 
 Its teaching idle, unto him who heareth from the breast 
 Of human sympathy the sigh of urgent love oppressed. 
 
 Trouble of bliss. It is a prompting, is a longing after aid, — 
 Unutterable consciousness of God, — a conscience made 
 Most delicate, which urges man before the very Throne 
 Of God to fall, — yea, on His breast ; contented there alone. 
 
 So, with my head upon thy la}), I murmur — God is Love. 
 And for the tenet which proclaims His hatred, and the curse 
 Which gripes an infant at his birth, — it comes not from above, 
 This wisdom. A more tender creed shall consecrate my verse. 
 
 Features alike of mind and body we transmitted hold 
 
 From parents ; none resemble, yet a likeness in the mould 
 
 Holds families, yea races, bound in unison of will. 
 
 God fixed these sympathies. His aims by these shall men fulfil. 
 
 H
 
 50 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 Hence love of home, of country. Hence the contests which provoke 
 Exertion. Hence all Progress. By the complicated stroke 
 Of wheels thus intersected, the consenting race of man 
 Lives to perform One act of God, complete One mighty plan. 
 
 Goodness and beauty both are manifold. The front of earth 
 Is wreathed with blossoms, and the germ of beauty in the birth 
 Of each was different ; the daisy cannot alter to the rose ; 
 So differ infants, — all are good, and each unlike another grows. 
 
 Here ends the likeness. If the soul, as flowers do, to ripeness came 
 By force innate, then with the flowers must its falling be the same ; 
 Then it must die for ever. But the soul for ever lives 
 To labour Godward. For this labour God to children power gives, 
 
 And paths appoints. Our trials differ, yet our troubles do not so. 
 Loader is the warning as we deafen ; harder is the blow 
 Upon wild arms striking back defiance. If a pleading tear 
 From cruel deed deters the weak, — long agonies of fear,
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 51 
 
 Wild passions sobbing out despair, cry, Hold, to the rough hand 
 Of practised tyranny. Sin grinds the fierce, the mild it bows. 
 An earthquake overturns the rock, a light breath waves the sand. 
 From slumber, touched, — from sleep, more rudely shaken, we arouse. 
 
 So hath the face of Sin from God this property, to be 
 More hateful as it is the more beloved. Sin bids us flee 
 More loudly as we listen less ; — with danger warnings thicken ; 
 The sinking soul yet nature seeks with stimulants to quicken. 
 
 Thus with an even hand to us His lessons God dispenses. 
 His equal care protecteth all. No pitfall without fences 
 Gapes upon any man. Is peace his path the guards are few ; 
 But barrier limits passed with pain each doubtful way bestrew. 
 
 So then what God creates is pure ; what God directs is wise. 
 
 Pure is the new-born child while still between the breasts it lies. 
 
 And the great Teacher wisely to each learner's varied state 
 
 Apportions lessons. Man too teaches. How do mortals educate ? 
 
 h 2
 
 52 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 Alas! but vainly. Home is not an educating place, 
 Save to a few. Like horses spurred to run their master's race, 
 Who dare not deviate ; — like monkeys forced to do a trick ; — 
 Like peas all planted in a row, and guided by the stick, — 
 
 So do we put our children to be trained : — be broken down : — 
 To learn to crouch before a cane like dogs, — to fear the frown, 
 The fiat of some dunce, perchance, who cannot grasp a tool 
 In honest trade, and grasps the rod as master of a school. 
 
 What marvel if the teacher of our children be despised, 
 And in the court of Intellect his claim unrecognized; 
 Let any dullard drone for bread, and call his house a church, 
 We -lia.11 respect the surplice then as little as the birch. 
 
 [f our houses were surrounded by a lancet pointing mob, 
 
 Prompt to bleed us for a shilling, or do any little job. 
 
 In the way of flesh and physic upon reasonable terms, 
 
 Ami any man, to feed himself, might dish us for the worms; —
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 53 
 
 If Gordian phrase and crabbed hand, at any man's command, 
 Could keep for us our private rights, protect our house and land ; — 
 Were every man a barrister who bothers us with fudge ; — 
 If any man might wear a wig and call himself a judge ; — 
 
 As any man who can afford to buy a desk, a stool, 
 A stick, and a Delectus, may set up to keep a school : 
 Then, verily, the schoolmaster would not alone complain, 
 That for a reverend office he demands respect in vain. 
 
 Love children. Let the golden-haired be comrades with the gray. 
 These new-created spirits follow us upon our way, 
 Inquire their paths to God of us — as our first parents might 
 From lips of Angels once have learned to look into the light. 
 
 All men are Angels to the child ; and on the mother's breast 
 
 It fondles God. With higher knowledge be the new-born soul impressed 
 
 By no didactic lessons, let there stream into each sense 
 
 The light of Heaven through the ways of Earth. An influence
 
 5 \ SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 Rains out of all the child observes ; and Home embraces all 
 
 It- first acquaintance. There it looks and learns. Word-lessons fall 
 
 As leaves upon the soil whereon drops scattered the ripe seed 
 
 Of quick Experience. The life those nourish, which they do not breed. 
 
 Home must be holy. Parents think to watch the budding child : 
 More watchful is the child of them. It cannot be beguiled 
 By Sabbath conversation ; little heeds the parts of speech ; 
 It looks and learns, and as the parents act before it, so they teach. 
 
 Home must be holy. Peace, and Love, and without effort firm, 
 Truth most inviolate, and Duty must surround the germ 
 < )f nascent Intellect. That Strife, or Hate, or Wrong can be, 
 Until the Judgment is awake, let not an infant see. 
 
 We to the child are Angels. Arc we angels to each other, 
 So does the child conceive not ill. Upon the bosom of a Mother 
 Let ir fool the pulse of peace, and in her gaze see Jesus shining, 
 In the bowed nock of a Father around God its arms entwining,
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 55 
 
 Let Christ move daily unrestrained in all before its eyes, 
 It will reflect the light from all, as lakes reflect the skies ; 
 Till judgment lastly shall confirm what first example taught, 
 Reason receive the God whom Love unto the cradle brought. 
 
 Within the flower circles as a tiny carpel lies, 
 
 Its seed an outline, germless — so the power to be wise 
 
 Is wrapped within the beautiful. The fond affections first 
 
 Expand, and in their pleasant folds is the young reason nursed. 
 
 As with a kiss the flower sheddeth life into the cell, 
 Creates the seed, so love alone can animate the shell 
 Of nascent reason, else unfruitful. Love and fancy spread 
 Their anther-coronets of gold, first weave their petal bed. 
 
 These let the child display, let these his spirit fructify, — 
 Then with the tender shrouds will not their heavenly colours die ; 
 The fruit will perfect the delight which these gay rings begin. 
 The bloom and fragrance still without, and nectar food within.
 
 56 SUNRISE IX ITALY. 
 
 Pluck not the petals of the human flower. Cultivate 
 
 The child's quick sympathies. Give Love, for knowledge. Let the fate 
 
 Of the afflicted and the joyous bid his tears or mirth arise, 
 
 True fate, or boldly coloured in those wholesome phantasies, 
 
 Child-loving, child-delighting tales of honest fairy land, 
 Where good is right, and bad is wrong, and all can understand 
 The clear and large heart-picturing. The life of man was young 
 When these, the child's bright lessons, first to warm existence sprung. 
 
 Then to the quick inquiries which from early thought arise, 
 Afl streaks of light which change and spread upon the morning skies, 
 Give pregnant answer. Rather point than lead, upon the way 
 To knowledge. Let the sun illume, and not thy brush display, 
 
 The hues of Nature. Widely spread before the ready child 
 
 The mind- rich scenery. No heart was ever yet beguiled 
 
 Through free inquiry. Thought unchecked approaches God. Constraint 
 
 Pales the spirit, as confinement makes the prostrate body faint.
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 57 
 
 Follow the light. Let answers thus upon each question wait, 
 Until thy pupil have acquired the power to debate 
 Within himself all doubts, and lean unto the purer side, 
 With healthy reason. Then admit another to divide 
 
 With thee the teacher's duty. From the tranquil hearth of home 
 Banish no girl. The woman's world is there. Let teaching come 
 Into her heart through never-absent love, so let her grow 
 In household grace ; while knowledge swells, let goodness overflow, 
 
 Unchecked for ever. Harder culture must adapt the future man 
 For worldly battle. Not the pert instructor, the strict plan 
 Of pattern teaching, which shall quell the freedom of the mind, 
 And to the faggot of routine each martyr spirit bind. 
 
 Still and for ever must the soul of man be free. Give thou 
 No master to thy son. Beneath no despot let him bow. 
 His monitor must help, not drag, invite, not drive, along 
 The paths of Intellect. Truth is, but passion is not, strong.
 
 58 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 What shall be taught ? The works of God before the works of man. 
 
 The simple magnitude of laws which to their destined span — 
 
 A span to thought the limitless — confines the tuneful flight 
 
 Of worlds sublime, teach. To the child those twinkling specks of light, 
 
 Like eyes of angels in the sky, should tell a tale of God, 
 
 Of intellect magnificent. To him the trodden clod 
 
 Should tell the quickening truths which all created things declare, 
 
 y 
 The trodden weed should lay to him its secret- beauty bare, 
 
 And bid his warm heart yearn with love, bid adoration rise 
 On wings of wonder pulsating delight. As in the skies 
 The stars, so in the dust let worms unto the child display 
 The one truth myriad form. 0, like a Son that soul will pray 
 
 To God the Father, tremblingly abased before His face, 
 Yet fondly glad so far to bear His Image as to trace 
 God through himself, high argument through reasoning of men. 
 For man when conscious of himself, but feels his Maker then.
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 5<J 
 
 A lonely shrub in deserts, little nourished, beareth leaves 
 
 More rare and blossoms few; sharp thorns, abortive buds, receive 
 
 Life's scanty sustenance. Yet here too wisdom doth direct, 
 
 Let there be Light ! — The desert shrub that armour doth protect, — 
 
 No browsing lip destroys the sparing blossom, and the seed 
 Blesses the wilderness. Earth, canst thou pour forth, in creed 
 Or catechism, on thy child religion so complete 
 As raineth down from Heaven, springeth up beneath his feet ! 
 
 Let him see God. Abstruser science may be chilled beside the form 
 Of Nature, but her Spirit, heart to heart, with bosom warm, 
 In welcome close, can clasp the child, descended to the glen 
 Wherein she dwells with Love and Prayer. — To the lesser works of men 
 
 At length the mind turns, curious. The laws of numbers taught 
 Through reason, and in servitude to higher knowledge brought, 
 Their purpose felt, are welcome gain. The surface of our globe, 
 
 Oceans and islands, continents, coasts, rivers and the robe 
 
 i 2
 
 (JO SUNRISE IN ITALY 
 
 Of living flowers, various as joy ; the common gains 
 
 Which human Reason from the gifts of Providence obtains, — 
 
 Use, luxury and ornament of life, — all illustrate 
 
 Creating Love, where Wisdom will through Love alone create. 
 
 These studies point like oracles. The child by fancy sped, 
 With knowledge glad, is bounding forward, thankfully is led 
 Among his race, of mortals hears the deeds in every clime, 
 Perceives the Sky of Heaven spread o'er all the Waves of Time. 
 
 Closely, more closely, in the hand of Nature let him press 
 UN yielded palm — read works divine with humbler earnestness, 
 And higher aim, while now the thoughtful words of his own kind 
 Kindle the kindred fire within his soul, and closely bind 
 
 Childhood and age together. The ripe fruitage of the mind 
 Present to him. Not to one garden be his gathering confined, 
 N<>r to a single climate. As the pine and palm arise, 
 Lichen and orchi — varied answers to the breath of varied skies,
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. <»l 
 
 So varies human intellect, in every land maintains 
 
 Its oneness in diversity. Across the mountain chains 
 
 Of language pass, new realms of thought let the young heart explore, 
 
 Gather the native fruit in each. Earth owns no foreign shore 
 
 To man its tenant, all the World of Matter is his home, 
 His hope the World of Spirits. Hard their lot who cannot roam 
 Beyond the measure of a glance, — to whom the lofty name, 
 Man of the World, means him who doth at golden targets aim. 
 
 Man of the World create thy pupil, to no lesser limit bind 
 His spirit, servile to no nation, but in league with all mankind, 
 Thought manifold make known to him. Teach not the tropic's wealth 
 In hot-houses, — nor in translations drag along, with stifled health, 
 
 As foreign beasts in caravans, — the thoughts brought from afar, 
 But bid his spirit travel. Moving not it, like a star 
 May rise and set, and many regions with a tranquil eye behold, 
 If thou but raise it heavenward — if to the glittering fold
 
 62 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 
 
 Of God's own flock wherein there dwelleth peaceful ness of light, 
 By upward guidance thou the lamb thou rearest canst unite. 
 Point thou thy child from spot to spot, make all the world his own 
 To search in, 'till his heart declare that only God is known. 
 
 All human knowledge is but lisping 1 of the holy name of God, 
 It is not Wisdom found, but finding where the feet of Wisdom trod, 
 Happy lisping, hallowed finding, worthy hope when Heaven beams 
 On the waking scholar's fancy, through his truth-begotten dreams ! 
 
 Now my song replies, beloved, to thy gently warning look, 
 Other wine must fill the chalice. As an ever-running brook 
 Might this heart which sings of children never weary of its theme, 
 But along another channel must its busy current stream. 
 
 The sway of Right, resistless, which as sunlight on the frost 
 Or through the darkness shines ; a nation's track to Freedom, lost 
 Beneath the thorns of passion, opened by the thoughtful priest 
 Who taught the force of Reason, and the bands of Faith increased
 
 SUNRISE IN ITALY. 0)3 
 
 Through each new patriot with him to peaceful striving bound ; 
 D'Azeglio's manly doctrine, were my song ; until the sound 
 Of God went forth among the nations. At His word the fertile seed 
 Was scattered ripe among us — rooted — sprang. who shall read 
 
 The destiny of man, his Maker's purpose ! As the hour 
 
 Of judgment sudden was the rain whose fertilizing shower 
 
 From Heaven fell on thirsting Europe. Jesus, lover of Mankind, 
 
 Teach again the deaf to hear thee ; — lift the lame ; — convince the blind 
 
 With beauty visible ; — again raise up the dead, Lord ! 
 Let loose the captive Spirit ; — let a world of Peace afford 
 Unto the poor the perfect teaching of the Gospel ! — Love alone, 
 Last child of Earth, remains unborn, and with that burden groan 
 
 The nations. To their cry thou listenest, and Thou 
 
 Above their fruitful struggle, All-Merciful, dost bow. 
 
 Love shall come forth, — shall grow, — and shall unto Thy Throne ascend, 
 
 To tell of Thine accomplished Will, and Earth's accomplished End.
 
 64 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 ("A distinguished meeting" was held at the Hanover Square Rooms, (July 13th, 1848) 
 for the purpose of originating a Protestant Institution upon the system of the Sceurs 
 de la Charite. The Bishops of London, Norwich, Salisbury, and Manchester were 
 present.) 
 
 Honour to prelates of this English Church, 
 
 Who, within fashion's pleasure chamber, raised 
 
 A Christian standard, while Cant stood, amazed 
 
 That for its pattern they had dared to search 
 
 The forms of Rome. Rome's joyous daughter gazed 
 
 Into sad eyes with love ; her high-born dame 
 
 By the sick pauper knelt, and knew the Name 
 
 Which knitted both in sisterhood, and praised 
 
 Christ, whose word made Sceurs de la Charite. 
 
 Sister of England, by thy womanhood, 
 
 Assert to all that charity is good ! 
 
 We all can love, no matter how we pray. 
 
 Follow this path ;— let Pride not mock thee hence, 
 
 And Charity shall be thy Recompense !
 
 MORNING IN EUROPE. 
 
 K
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Character of Lamartine. — Advance of Human Freedom. — Its appearance in 
 France. — Its cause is perilled by dangerous predilections of the French. — 
 Lamartine advocates a Christian struggle ; the people are persuaded by his elo- 
 quence. — Necessity of Christian principles to the safe establishment of any change. 
 — Will France yet submit to them ? — The spirit of change extends to other 
 nations. — What manner of diplomatists Europe now needs. — The Position of 
 England. — Ireland. — Prospect of "Wars, and in what way to avert them.
 
 MORNING IN EUROPE. 
 
 Soft, spirit-chanted hymns ; the song of Jocelyn the priest, 
 Whose love in sacred agonies of sacrifice exhaled, 
 
 As lilies into perfume ; of Hope's martyr-band increased 
 
 By dreamers of chaste Liberty, whose shadows shall be hailed 
 
 As prophet visions, when the passions of this world yet rude in youth 
 Give place to love-directed Reason ; syllables of heartfelt Truth, 
 A Poet wrote upon the tablets of the Future. God looked down 
 Into his heart, and saw that it was good. That not renown, — 
 
 A breath upon the polished blade, — could cloud it. That the blood 
 Which thereinto its rivers warm poured as a living flood, 
 Poured song-creating, like the streams of Paradise which lull 
 Glad angels with their harmony, might stagnate black and dull 
 
 k 2
 
 6$ MORNING IN EUROPE. 
 
 To mire around the scaffold, yet, unaltered by a dread, 
 That heart would beat its measure out, and spin its even thread 
 Of life, man-loving-, God-beloved. Blessing, the Lord beheld, 
 And in the Poet's Heart he wrote his message. France, impelled 
 
 To seek again the untrodden shrine of Liberty, arose. — 
 
 As when the soul, enthralled by music, vibrates like the string 
 
 Which, on a harp of Heaven, Angels touch, it visits, knows 
 
 The Mount of Olives, light with Jesus, which one chant shall bring 
 
 Pictured through melodies within sensation, — if a strain 
 Prom that deep voice of adoration meet it in the world, again 
 Earth vanishes ; the spirit of Beethoven pours its stream 
 Of upward-swelling ecstacy ; God speaketh in a dream; 
 
 The great heart throbs : — The great heart of Mankind so throbs to hear 
 
 Notes from an Oratorio of Freedom. Nations wear 
 
 Within their depths its music hidden. O'er a dreary strand 
 
 Where night was blackest, glows the Morning. From a silent Land, —
 
 MORNING IN EUROPE. G9 
 
 From Italy whose song was stifled, — murmured from the Papal chair, 
 The tones significant arose. Was that the lowest stair 
 On the ascent of Freedom, there first Freedom deigned to tread, 
 True Freedom, Gospel-nourished. From the dawning, daylight spread 
 
 And covered Europe. By the first note of a holy song 
 
 The rest rose prompted : nations bear the mighty flood along 
 
 Of Italy's world-music. Next upon the soil of France 
 
 Was cast the shadow of the coming God. What phantoms dance 
 
 Among the dreams of Freedom ! Tranquil though her essence be, 
 
 As Jesus, loving, yet in search of her the devotee 
 
 Apes the religious zealot, spreads the barren waste of crime 
 
 Where peace bore fruit, and prints with blood the record of his time. 
 
 The winds of Heaven from the soil of France not yet had swept 
 
 The scent of Murder's orgies, rites of Liberty, who wept, 
 
 Concealed, while she the blasphemy forgave. Is it more sin 
 
 Than Ignorance which those black threads doth for the world's web spin ?
 
 70 MORNING IN EUROPE. 
 
 Again was France impelled the shrine of Liberty to seek. 
 
 Once " All are brothers" was her word : her deed, Death to the weak. 
 
 Again the sword was ready. But the hand of God was seen, 
 
 And in the Poet's heart it wrote His message. Lamartine, 
 
 God-loving, man-beloved ; of thought most delicate, — and true 
 To his high calling, Beauty's voice to hear, its sound pursue ; — 
 Beauty, the breath of whisperings which set the soul at rest, 
 Faint accents floating down to us from mansions of the blest ; — 
 
 Lamartine spoke, the Nation listened. Let there be no blood 
 In our revenges. Truth with mercy cannot be withstood, 
 For Mercy to it is a fountain which imparts eternal youth ; 
 The rotten garb of Cruelty denies the form of Truth. 
 
 Jesus taught Freedom. In the name of Jesus only can 
 The nations rise from slavery, and claim the rights of Man. 
 Free, equal, brethren to become, all people must obey 
 The word of Love. To Liberty no sword can point the way.
 
 MORNING IN EUROPE. 71 
 
 The young Republic, prompted thus, received its first decree : 
 Our struggle shall be bloodless and opinion shall be free. 
 France bade Lamartine in her name to doubting Europe speak 
 His words of peaceful brotherhood. 0, Tyranny is weak — 
 
 The will of Rule — before the will of Right ! Moth-eaten gauds 
 Of mediaeval state, time-honoured — time-abandoned — frauds 
 On manhood, tinsel-worship, — cloudy fragments of the night, — 
 Break and dissolve in silence, vanish with increasing Light. 
 
 Light of the Sun. Ten thousand torches cannot change to Heaven's blue 
 The black of midnight. Light from Jesus must the heart of man subdue. 
 It shall subdue. All things shall Christ subdue unto his Will. 
 The cup of life, with cloudless love, consenting man shall fill. 
 
 Then may be perfect freedom. Then the fiction of a sect — 
 The wild dream of the Communist — a love-born intellect 
 With one spontaneous impulse may confirm. But keen must be 
 That eye of faith which fields like these upon mans path can see.
 
 72 MORNING IN EUROPE. 
 
 Can man attain such ground ? To feel that Human Progress can, 
 Child-like must be the trust in God, God-like the hope in man. 
 The gospel to the world is still the picture of a bride 
 Unseen, ill-known; her form alone adored with jealous pride. 
 
 Baptismal Water, Sacraments, the Cross, in catechisms, 
 External features of the Word, we teach and tear with schisms: — 
 The soul of our beloved, in the Sermon on the Mount, 
 We close up in our Bibles, as a flower of small account. 
 
 Yet this the Flower whose seed shall fall to fertilize the earth ; 
 All growth not kindred to this blossom, as a mushroom birth 
 Scatters the short-lived produce of decay. All change that Love 
 Instructs not, is but Restlessness. All Light not from above 
 
 Consumes that which produces it, and dies when unsupplied. 
 France, in the name of Liberty, hath set her king aside. 
 What hope in her Republic? — From what source will she supply 
 Ir^ fountain- ' Will she light herself or use the Light on High?
 
 MORNING IN EUROPE. 73 
 
 Is there in France a Christian spirit ? If the voice of Lamartine 
 Cease to be heard, what voice will next resound upon the scene ? 
 Europe remembers still, and doubts. Redeem thy glory, France — 
 The standard of the ranks of man to Holy Ground advance ! 
 
 The tread of Freedom over France, across all Europe felt, 
 Echoed in Denmark. Metternich did as a vapour melt 
 From Austria's horizon. Thoughtful Germany began 
 To act her reveries. A will was in the heart of man : 
 
 Nations had grown, and governments — their clothing — needed change, 
 Enlargement, or dismissal. Up, to sweep a higher range, 
 Bird-like, the human spirit rose. The sea of life ascends : 
 Depth shall be where the shallows were, before this movement ends. 
 
 That spirit mounts, and still must mount. Wave rolleth upon wave, 
 Yet distant is the coming tide from shores which it must lave. 
 The soul progresses, but not yet hath it so far progressed 
 That on the accomplished will of God it satisfied may rest.
 
 74 MORN TNG IN EUROPE. 
 
 ( lose is the robe of mystery whicb covers now the form 
 < H' Europe's Future. Do its folds delude, with colours warm 
 By Elope en wo von? Sweetest offspring of our busy race appears 
 To IoDging eves, that veiled maid, Queen of the Coming Years. 
 
 For her we wait. To God we trust the temper of the day 
 Now broken. Trust to God, and to the men who dare obey 
 His guidance, and the promptings of an undespairing Avill ; 
 Dare leap through custom's hedges ; baffle diplomatic skill 
 
 With Christian earnestness of purpose ; utter in their simple phrase 
 Firm words of manhood ; Truth for Tactics into public service raise. 
 Routine, a burden dropped upon the way, is valueless. 
 When nations think, no halting minds their Leaders must possess. 
 
 J {old men, plain men, who on the Gospel openly shall build, 
 And by its rule shall govern; men in Charity well skilled, 
 With souls too broad for Party, must guide Europe up to God; 
 Men lit with Lamartine to soar, not Metternichs to plod.
 
 .MORNING IN EUROPE. 75 
 
 England, rejoicing in her Queen, and with a State more free 
 Than the best framed Republic, until men are gods, can be ; 
 England hath yet her slaveries, her follies to reform, 
 And brooding over her there hangs the most vindictive storm. 
 
 Her Slaveries. Intolerance ; Religious Bigotry ; 
 Class-selfishness ; Conceits of Rank ; wide-mouthed Idolatry 
 Of wealth. A flood of Charity must come to cover all 
 The multitude of these her sins- Soon may that flood befal. 
 
 Her Follies. Golden presents to successful money getters ; 
 
 And pence thrown to be stooped for by the starving men of letters: 
 
 Great powers but a fairy-gift, to poverty a door ; 
 
 But pensions to the rich for nothing, paid them by the poor. 
 
 Her Follies. An eulightened press, — free, truthful, and sedate, — 
 
 Compelled to chronicle the dress and dinners of the great ; 
 
 To paint in print what petticoat the Queen was pleased to wear; 
 
 To mince with rose and amber all the mutton in Mayfair. 
 
 l 2
 
 7«'» MORNING IN EUROPE. 
 
 Her Follies. Men in Parliament who crow for Britain's weal; 
 Who represent the barn-yards; while an earnest People feel 
 That better representatives could certainly be found, 
 If chanticleers and others sought for votes on wider ground. 
 
 • 
 
 Her Follies. Law which rights the wronged by emptying his pocket, 
 Lifts up the Heart that it may break to fiery tears; a Rocket, 
 Whose use of legal sport is served, it falls to earth, a void. 
 For injuries, by civil Law, are doubled, not destroyed. 
 
 Her Follies. Dirty London — But the catalogue is long, 
 England is not man's Paradise. A patriotic song 
 Disdains to flatter. Happy they who love and are not blind. 
 Europe will move, and England too must move or stay behind. 
 
 Her cloud of menace, Ireland. Boding thunders mutter thence, 
 Fires flash already. England is prepared with her defence. 
 Is that enough ? An angered sister do we wait to check with blows? 
 ( "an gentle <\cc<[* not win her to us ? Where Force tramples, Hatred grows.
 
 MORNING IN EUROPE. 77 
 
 More hopeful wars, yet fearful still, o'er Europe imminent, 
 No power but the Power of the Gospel can prevent. 
 Pour down thy Holy Spirit, thou Father of Mankind, 
 Into One Great Purpose, all our aspirations bind ! 
 
 Send, God, pure Guides among us, shed Thy light upon our way ! 
 From the path of Christian Freedom, let our leaders never stray, — 
 Tread where trod Earth's great Reformer, — Universal Love their aim,- 
 And work out their Reformations in the blessed Saviour's Name !
 
 78 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 A blessing ou the breath of Pestilence 
 To the most squalid tenements of man 
 Must penetrate. No curse is in the plan 
 
 Of Providence. " Arise, let us go hence 
 
 To heavenly mansions," through damp hovels, dense 
 With subtle poison, doth the voice exclaim 
 Of Cholera. She with this mission came 
 
 From God entrusted. " Be thou the defence 
 Of man against aggression from mankind. 
 
 Through cities of the world thy passage wing, — 
 When Poverty polluted thou shalt find, 
 
 Pause ; the wronged poor unto My Bosom bring, 
 
 And daunt the wronger with thy dragon sting, 
 Till Death of Dutv shall his soul remind."
 
 ORNING CLOUDS.
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Insurrection in Paris. — The Influence of Lamartine. — Its Decline. — The 
 
 Death of the Archhishop.
 
 MORNING CLOUDS. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 Sing Love, Minstrel, or reject the Lyre ! The perfect Love 
 Which on the lip of Jesus came in wisdom from above 
 Seek, when thy hand is wandering in prelude on the strings 
 Of this familiar shell ! The lark in heaven only sings, 
 
 Disdaining to the land below to yield his tribute note. 
 
 So do not thou, man, to low desires of earth devote 
 
 The music which above the cares and clouds of life should soar, 
 
 And, through the cares and through the clouds, its hymn from heaven pour. 
 
 Sing Love, O Minstrel, or reject the Lyre ! Not from beneath 
 Bewailing all the tempests which around the nations wreath. 
 Cleave thou the storm, and, through its mass like sunlight shining down 
 Show that God's smile is over all, more lasting than his frown. — 
 
 M
 
 82 MORNING CLOUDS. 
 
 Can this be Death, his white wings wet with blood, who in the streets 
 
 Of Paris wanders shuddering, whose glance of God entreats 
 
 Recall ; while Ignorance, blind fiend, of War and Crime 
 
 The wanton mother. — whose full breasts are covered with the slime 
 
 Of those foul nurslings — leadeth on a riot multitude 
 Before his feet to fall. — This solemn Angel, blood-imbrued, 
 Can this be Death, who tenderly delights beside the bed 
 Of suffering to sit, and lift the smiling mourner's head ; 
 
 Who on his breast the picture wears of some dear household face ; 
 And on his lip the promise bears that soon each fond embrace, 
 Lost here among the living, shall be found beyond the skies, 
 In mansions which he guards, the Porter of our Paradise? 
 
 Now presses on the riot crowd with yell and musket shot ; 
 Death must embrace them, and to each assign his demon lot: 
 Some, blood-stained by his dripping wings, to murder and survive; 
 Some, livid in his tight embrace, to perish while they strive
 
 MORNING CLOUDS. 83 
 
 To perish while they strive beneath the lash and angry shriek 
 Of Ignorance, for wrongs unknown a dark revenge to wreak ; 
 While fighting for excitement, or for plunder, or for power, 
 To end the struggle upon earth in its most evil hour. 
 
 It is a summer Sabbath, and the wind which waves above 
 The land of Europe lingers oft to dally in some grove 
 Where lovers plan a blossom-life, and paint the future hues 
 Of fruits in bloom unfingered ; thence the peaceful air pursues 
 
 Its path through woods, where chapel chimes the scattered souls invite 
 Their prayers among those solitudes as brothers to unite ; — 
 O'er slumber-dreaming city streets it hovers, to attend 
 Unto the songs of worshippers which solemnly ascend 
 
 From countless points, as perfume from the myrtle's many cells ; — 
 It enters through the jasmine porch, adds to the tear which swells 
 Upon the happy father's eye whose children's children kneel 
 In prayer together knitted ; — thence among the dead doth steal, 
 
 m 2
 
 84 MORNING CLOUDS. 
 
 And tinds a mourner in their garden; — floats across the plashing sea, 
 Where from ships the note of worship like a dove to rest doth flee: — 
 But the wind falls over Paris, where the dead men cry to God, 
 And the living to the Devil, yelling cry beneath his rod. 
 
 Already for two days the din of murder had made deaf 
 
 The affrighted ears of mercy. — Weeds uprooted in the leaf, 
 
 < >r with seed upon them, mingled with the buds of flowers lay, 
 
 With fruitful branches, in one ruin crushed and choking up the way. — 
 
 Mercy of man was deaf. The friends of peace by murder mocked 
 Wiiv furious, and foe with foe, in hate's embraces locked 
 With grip convulsive, glared through blood, relentless, on each other, 
 Each with tin- desperate glance of Cain when he struck down his brother. 
 
 Within the streets of Paris for two days a massive crowd 
 Of glory-seeking villains; hero-workmen humbly proud; — 
 Who fight like Tartars to obtain the heaven of the Turk, 
 T" found a famous nation of All Wages and No Work; —
 
 MORNING CLOUDS. 85 
 
 With them all they who hope upon a stream of blood to swim ; — 
 Who think that France — a fierce coquette — may love them when her 
 
 whim 
 Shall next discard the last elected suitor, and would bring, 
 In savage guise, a skull or two to earn the wedding ring ; — 
 
 All disaffected ; — all who dream alchemic dreams of change, 
 Sacrifice men to Satan, and, by transmutation strange, 
 Think to convert their want to wealth, their bad wine into good, 
 By mixture in a crucible with fire, and lead, and blood. 
 
 In days of change where dregs exist they will not fail to rise ; 
 And as, when pools are stirred, the filth which at the bottom lies 
 By nature stains the surface, so the good name is defiled 
 Of France by these her criminals. Their eyes are glaring, wild. 
 
 As when a goaded tiger turns to grind the hunter's spear 
 With gnashing teeth, despairing so, in fury not in fear, 
 The ranks of Ignorance perceive the power of their foe, — 
 Watch through the battle seeking them their hour of overthrow
 
 ^<! MORNING CLOUDS. 
 
 Horn- unexpected ; but this busy rage of turbulence foreknown, — 
 This Rage which, as of old, had triumphed and with Death had shared 
 
 the Throne 
 When change was new, had it responded to the cue upon the scene 
 Which bade it early come to act its part, — made drunk by Lamartine 
 
 With poet eloquence, and duped with Truths, which caused the Right 
 To glitter ; Duty dressed like Glory ; to the dazzled sight 
 .Made Virtue gay as Vanity; this Rage was held awhile 
 Forgetful, until France was armed. Not longer to beguile 
 
 lt< eager fury skill availeth, yet the nation's cause is sure. 
 Order, aroused while crime, cajoled, still listened to the lure 
 Which charmed the land, has had full time to fill and to equip 
 Her earnest ranks. France is prepared. Rebellion now must slip 
 
 < Hit of the toils, with greedy roar, to fall, where it had found 
 
 A victim, had not Lamartine delayed the fatal bound. 
 
 To fall ; but, from the terror of the struggle, learn, France, 
 
 What conflict was escaped. Look on that baleful vanquished glance,
 
 MORNING (T.OUDS. 87 
 
 Upturned, — conceive the vanquisher who looketh down on thee, 
 
 Thou looking- up to him for fate, upon thy breast his knee. 
 
 What night is in thy heart? Did not of old our fathers stone 
 
 The prophets, and build up their tombs ? When from thy hearth is gone, 
 
 Pursued by snakes of calumny, the saviour of thy Land ; — 
 He to whom Europe looked with hope, when men said : France will stand 
 Erect, and know no more the stain which crimsoneth her floor ; — 
 When him thou hast maligned, O France, what Fate is at thy door? 
 
 Thou shalt malign him, as the man who gave to crime its form ; 
 
 Ascribe to him the tempest, not the saving from the storm. 
 
 So may a crew of madmen strike the pilot from the wheel, 
 
 When waves run high, and rocks and shoals their frothy tongues reveal. 
 
 Yet split thou not, tost vessel of our Hope ! — Life's orchard plot, 
 Strewn with young fruit by shaken boughs, or blight, yet faileth not 
 To yield fit produce unto Him who prunes each growing tree. 
 The hand of God moves through His flowers, as a maiden's, tenderlv.
 
 88 VnRXINCi CLOUDS. 
 
 <;«'d plucks one flower thus : — The Christian Pastor of that flock 
 
 W liich fights in I 'ari doth his aged palms together lock 
 
 In anxious praver. that the voice of Christ might be of power 
 Upon his lips to stay the strife. — That he might be the sower 
 
 Of words of love across that conflict, of a chieftain he doth ask : 
 " Follow thy will," the answer is ; "I dare not prompt the task, 
 Else might thy blood be sprinkled on my soul." Then, undismayed, 
 Conscious of pure design, the Archbishop, to the barricade 
 
 Where Christian love was outraged most, directs his pious way. 
 
 I lis solemn robes of sacred use are soiled with the red spray 
 
 From pools of blood wherein he treads; — green boughs before him borne 
 
 Tell that in peace he pa— es through throngs by contention torn. 
 
 In peace, to peace, he passes, — and triumphal branches wave 
 Before him to his martyrdom, his conquest of the grave. 
 The pile — made up of things of peace, the traffic-bearing stone, 
 The broken furniture of Home, contemptuously thrown
 
 MORNING CLOUDS. 89 
 
 111 one contested heap between the combatants : So still, 
 Since war began, hath War destroyed the subject of dispute. 
 
 For strength it combats, losing blood ; for gain, the wine doth spill, 
 The corn destroy ; for honour, manhood imitates the brute. — 
 
 The pile of broken things of peace, the martyr pile, he mounts ; 
 And there is pause. The strife is still. From their celestial founts 
 Of sympathy, while tears across the godless picture swim, 
 Upon his eyes — not on his heart — the scene of sin falls dim. 
 
 Fierce looks, ill quelled ; the frantic clench upon the heated musket yet ; 
 Smoked faces ; wounded bodies writhing ; women with lips firmly set, 
 Looks glaring hatred, bosoms heaving with the lust of slaughter; burn 
 Their outlines on the old man's soul. He solemnly his face doth turn 
 
 To Heaven, looking upward spreads his arms above the host ; 
 In Heaven, he can read the peace which there on Earth is lost ; 
 In Heaven, readeth mercy ; and with benediction sweet 
 Begins his mission. — 0, no peace of God is at his feet : 
 
 N
 
 00 MORNING CLOUDS. 
 
 Al>ove his face it is, and floods him with a sunlight. As befell 
 When Abraham in Paradise to Dives in his Hell 
 Appeared, though near, there was a gulf between ; so parted stand 
 The blessing and the blessed to-day. Yet to that raging band 
 
 As happy is the vision of their Priest as in the dream 
 
 Of souls tormented Abraham revealed to them might seem. 
 
 Rude silence they accord. — But, hark, do they not hear a drum ? — 
 
 With hollow note of hollow war, again their passions come; 
 
 The fierce looks o'er the muskets bend ; again the bullets fly. 
 
 The martyr's blessing to himself returns. Yet not to die 
 
 With him. The Peace of God shall come. France, hear his dying prayer 
 
 " Let this blood be the last, O Lord !" — Let not the heavy air, 
 
 Groan-laden, stifle it upon thine ears ! The people come, 
 Relenting, some with weeping bear the old man's body home. 
 Weep not for him ! A crown completes his triumph in the race 
 < >f Christ's disciples. God on him poured out His Cup of Grace.
 
 MORNING CLOUDS. 91 
 
 Doth not the Slave of War exult to die, a slaughtered man, 
 While slaughtering? So let the Child of Heaven in the plan 
 Of Love delight when, gathered in this life's most Christ-like hour, 
 God to His Bosom tenderly removes the perfect flower. 
 
 x 2
 
 92 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 ■ Prove all things : Hold fast that which is good." 
 
 Dissent, but disagree not, nor deny 
 
 Too boldly doctrines which to thee are strange ; 
 Nor do thou dare inquiry to defy 
 
 Who never hast inquired through dread of change. 
 Investigate. In question Errors die; 
 
 But doubt the house of Truth will re-arrange, 
 And make her Temple, like the vaulted sky, 
 
 More universal than thy power to range. 
 And if reflection lead thee to believe 
 
 That Truth is not where some declare she dwells, 
 Yet in the semblance thou hast dared to test 
 Thou wilt have learned how semblance may deceive ; 
 
 Wait, questionably sure, till God dispels 
 All doubt, and gives security of rest.
 
 93 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 Not unto Eye of Man the glance belongs 
 Which can a life's unwritten sentence read ; 
 His Taste knows not the fruit within the seed, 
 
 Nor can his Hearing prophesy what songs 
 On a soul's lute shall to the strain succeed 
 
 Which in its newness now delighteth him. 
 
 Therefore, Father, let not trouble dim 
 
 Thy lightest thought, though in another creed 
 
 Than that of childhood, to another care 
 Than that for which thy fond solicitude 
 With loving wisdom bounteously endued 
 
 My mind with strength imparted, I now dare 
 To dedicate thy gifts ; when toil the sod 
 Hath cultivated, produce is of God.
 
 !>4 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 Justice no longer sups on human blood 
 
 In Germany. From Frankfort and Berlin 
 Comes the first great disownment of that Sin, 
 
 That Scripture-quoting Devil, which hath stood 
 Beneath the gibbets, pointing to the grin 
 
 Of strangled men, and cried, " So God doth will. 
 
 Law kills, to teach the lawless not to kill." — 
 Justly Retaliation might begin 
 
 The lessons in a school of Justice taught ; 
 This learned, a higher teaching we received, 
 Grown capable. tasks yet unachieved ! 
 
 Must Law the sinner slay whom Christ hath sought, 
 While Love, abhorrent through two thousand years, 
 Abhorrent yet, our Plea for Murder hears?
 
 95 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 Until thou be Omniscient, forbear 
 
 To trust thyself for knowledge of mankind. 
 
 Thinkest thou, mortal, readily to find 
 Thy brother's heart, and track Life's footstep there ? 
 
 This man is of a despicable mind, 
 So judgest thou. Can intuition tell 
 What penuries upon his childhood fell 
 
 Of love, of culture ; — with what Fate unkind, 
 He wept, contented? Never did there shine, 
 
 Shaming thy censure, suddenly the light 
 
 Of a warm-hearted action, to requite 
 With friendliness some furtive scoff of thine ? 
 
 Despise thou none ! A scornful judgment lies. 
 
 The God in Manhood never wholly dies.
 
 A L E T H E. 
 
 " For our Gospel came not unto you in Word only, 
 But also in Power." 
 
 " Remember, brethren, our Labour and Travail : 
 For labouring night and day, 
 
 Because we would not be chargeable unto any of you, 
 We preached unto you the Gospel of God." — Saint Paul. 
 
 o
 
 A L E T H E . 
 
 I. 
 
 Disease, saith Error, breeds within the shell 
 Its pearl, the likeness of a lasting tear ; — 
 
 And you shall hear grave moralizers tell 
 That when some spirit, in a crystal sphere 
 
 Of deathless beauty, casts abroad the spell 
 Of thoughts which Angels whisper in its ear, — 
 
 That then disease doth for the world produce 
 
 A gem to treasure and retain in use. — 
 
 o 2
 
 100 ALETHE. 
 
 II. 
 
 That, as the sickly breeder of a toy 
 
 Is for itself rejected, so mankind 
 Avoids the Poet, but, to gladden joy, 
 
 With his adornment doth the temples bind. — 
 The Truth. All guide-marks ready to employ, 
 
 But onward bent, Life leaves the fixed behind. 
 If he sit still, and only point their way, 
 Men must forsake the bard whom they obey. 
 
 III. 
 
 A maiden dwelt beside a waterfall, 
 Within a narrow, unfrequented glen ; 
 
 Her home a cave whose lichen-covered wall 
 A lioness had chosen for her den. 
 
 The lioness, roused by the hunter's call, 
 Died on her threshold for delight of men ; 
 
 Towards her cub she strained each glazing eye, 
 
 And died in uttering a mother's cry.
 
 ALETHE. 101 
 
 IV. 
 
 Her skeleton, whereon the light dew rains 
 From the split waters of the loud cascade, 
 
 Polished and white, upon the turf remains 
 Before the dusky dwelling of the maid. 
 
 Through summer nights the hollowed rock retains 
 The warmth of those ripe kisses which have played 
 
 Upon its cheek — kisses of Heaven sent 
 
 On sunbeams through the laughing firmament. 
 
 V. 
 
 Dawn breaks above the fountain of the stream, 
 Which bounds into the glen, to dance along 
 
 By glimpses visible, as in a dream 
 
 Some shape of loveliness may twine among 
 
 Our sterile phantoms with its silver gleam. 
 As light as joy and with as clear a song, 
 
 So gladly westward, following the sun 
 
 Her playfellow, doth this wild torrent run.
 
 I < >2 ALETITE. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Rock-lizards, in a Paradise of lioflit, 
 
 Where shrub nor tree annoys them with its shade, 
 Where nothing but the canopy of night, 
 
 Or cloud upon the sky, hath darkness made, 
 Frequent the glen. Grass, mosses, lichens, dight 
 
 With golden tissue to the sun displayed, 
 Save two vast yews touched by a thousand years, 
 Are all the dress the naked valley wears. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Above the cavern upon cloven ground 
 
 The solemn yews have fixed their steadfast base, 
 
 With their dark foliage a cliff is crowned 
 Which, like a rock-hewn idol of the place, 
 
 On centuries in massive wrath has frowned, 
 Without a temple, — for no narrow space 
 
 Like that within the cavern walls were fit 
 
 The devotees of giants to admit.
 
 ALETHE. L03 
 
 VIII. 
 
 In clays of old, beside the waterfall, 
 
 Alethe dwelt within that mossy nest ; 
 Of gentle countenance, and stature small, 
 
 A maiden with the mark of love impressed. 
 Happy the youth who might her mind enthral, 
 
 And wear her, like a bent rose, on his breast 
 In blushing modesty ! — 0, happy youth 
 To toil with her — the loveliness of Truth. 
 
 IX. 
 
 The loveliness of Truth in music taught 
 
 Its oracle upon Alethe's tongue ; 
 Sweet utterance, with holy meanings fraught, 
 
 Framed melodies those barren rocks among ; 
 These in its lap the ready torrent caught, 
 
 And scattered on its course. Her songs were sung 
 In fields and cities through which, strangely bound 
 With the swift wave, fled audible their sound.
 
 104 ALETHE. 
 
 X. 
 
 A>. linked by their smooth chain of loving arms, 
 The marble graces breathe one thought divine, 
 
 So, for one Beauty comes of many charms, 
 All lovely things together do entwine. 
 
 By prison windows, among peaceful farms, 
 
 Through the wild forest, by the wayside shrine, 
 
 Dividing towns, so seaward sweeps along 
 
 The river, murmuring Alethe's song. 
 
 XI. 
 
 It was a solemn mystery, while, clear, 
 Significant as that last angel dream 
 
 Which visits mortals when their death is near, 
 The wonder-music mingled with the stream. 
 
 Beauty embathed; or, as the cloud-born tear, 
 Through heaven falling, glorifies the beam 
 
 Of day, so from the water's plaintive sighs 
 
 More glorious did those wild notes arise.
 
 ALETFIE. H>.~> 
 
 XII. 
 
 Perchance the Spirit of the maiden's voice 
 Was daughter to the torrent of the glen. 
 
 For this the mother bosom might rejoice 
 To bear its burden, and, within the ken 
 
 Of human wisdom, triumph in the choice 
 
 Delight with which her child could conquer men. 
 
 For all who listened to the mystic strain 
 
 Worked, willing bondmen, under beauty's chain. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 And many times a fond enthusiast, 
 
 Whose struggling boat the current rippled by, — 
 Around whose soul the song its fetters cast, 
 
 Looked to those peaks which clave the distant sky, 
 Strained aching sinews, spread across the mast 
 
 To any doubtful breath his sail on high, — 
 Laboured with zeal the river's source to see, 
 And find the fountain of that melody. 
 
 p
 
 10<; ALETIIE. 
 
 XIV 
 
 He slept midway within a weary grave. 
 
 Or else, — arriving in that sunny place 
 Between the mountains, — saw the narrow cave, 
 
 And stood before Alethe face to face, 
 And heard from her the song which from the wave 
 
 Invited him its origin to trace 
 With upward labour, before her would kneel, 
 His purest phantasies accomplished feel. 
 
 XV. 
 
 To rest his head upon her lap he yearned, 
 
 And, while he could not win her for his bride, 
 
 Yet with her image in his heart returned, 
 In fancy felt her ever at his side. 
 
 The song-bird's nest thus crowding lovers learned, 
 And all their thoughts her music occupied. 
 
 Thus lived Alethe when the world was new, 
 
 Thus men adored the lovely in the True.
 
 ALETHE. I<»7 
 
 XVI. 
 
 As children, while unused to sound and form, 
 To all things listen, all admiring see, 
 
 But, grown in years, scarce to the thunderstorm, 
 For flash or peal, yield their attention free. 
 
 So cools mankind from youthful impulse warm, 
 And more than lovely even Truth must be 
 
 When busy men, by changing cares oppressed, 
 
 Shall seek her with unaltered interest. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Glowing with primal heat, the new-made Earth 
 Fled fresh from the Creator's plastic Hand, 
 
 Of radiant mists encircled with a girth, 
 
 "W hich cooled in drops upon the crust of land. 
 
 Such mists hung over nations at their birth, 
 By fervour bred, now in the sun we stand, 
 
 Beneath the blue, on Reason's solid ground, 
 
 With Fancy's waters murmuring around. 
 
 r2
 
 10^ ALETHE. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Waters all needful, yet a fickle base 
 
 Whereon to work the daily deeds of life. 
 
 To breathe upon the shore man's fainting race 
 
 For strength will come ; and few with bracing strife 
 
 Upon the doubtful element will chace 
 A winged Fortune, with inventions rife 
 
 Endeavouring to win her to their lure, 
 
 And, as a ransom, deathless gain procure. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 But sweep all trading vessels from the sea, 
 
 Soon use will sweep its grandeur from the sight. 
 
 For profit only man will bend the knee 
 To God who can his reverence requite. 
 
 And more than lovely even Truth must be ; — 
 Must work the while she sings, — or soon delight, 
 
 Which erst with prompt embrace to meet her ran, 
 
 Gives her faint welcome in the heart of man.
 
 ALKT1IK 
 
 109 
 
 XX. 
 
 When first the murmur of this music came 
 Among mankind, men worshipped loveliness, 
 
 Thereon intent. As the new-kindled flame 
 Of some cloud-answered beacon will possess 
 
 Eager attention, yet, its light the same 
 
 But constant, scarcely can on sight impress 
 
 A conscious image, so the maiden's trill, 
 
 Familiar, ceased into the soul to thrill. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 A moonless summer night. Alethe sits, 
 
 White-robed, upon her faintly gleaming throne, 
 
 The time-worn skeleton. Beneath her flits 
 The brook and shatters upon every stone 
 
 The mirrored diamonds of God, admits, 
 
 Like man, reflections from the world unknown, 
 
 Which from its breast distorted it will throw 
 
 When checks occur on the rough path below.
 
 1K» ALETHE. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Dawn breaks above the fountain of the stream, 
 The pale sky shivers with a trepid light ; 
 
 Stars, their watch ended, from the far supreme 
 Singly depart ; and to each neophyte 
 
 Of God on Earth, on the last-fallen beam 
 A visitant descends to cheer the night 
 
 Within his soul, lest Hope dejected shun 
 
 The darkness of man's toil beneath the sun. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 Is this an Angel of the Morning ? This 
 Bright vision, like the Spirit of the Day, 
 
 Whose feet the coming sun appears to kiss 
 
 As thus he stands, seen through the dewy spray, 
 
 Above the waterfall. The glen must miss 
 Her music, for Alethe's glad dismay 
 
 Regards that youth who down the rocky steep 
 
 Shares w itli the torrent now his frequent leap.
 
 ALETHE. 1 1 1 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 Boldly he leapeth, yet his foot might fail 
 Were not Alethe present to his eye. 
 
 His power profitless could but avail 
 Were she not near the danger to defy. 
 
 To rear the fabric of a faulty tale 
 On promptings of an idle phantasy, 
 
 This the success which waited on his pride 
 
 While parted from his sister and his guide. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Pride parted them. They were immortal born, 
 Twin children of Eternity. Their bond 
 
 Of strength was in their brotherhood. But scorn 
 Of an associate too meek and fond 
 
 Left the soft sister in that glen, forlorn, 
 
 To sing, and hope, — for Truth cannot despond,- 
 
 When Dynamis, departing from her side, 
 
 Went forth by despots to be deified.
 
 I 1 2 A LETHE. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 The proudest empires, prostrate at his feet, 
 His scorn had trodden. On the battle field 
 
 The bloody filth of that accursed cheat 
 
 Had stained him with man's glory. He had sealed 
 
 The prison doors on martyrs. To defeat 
 The purpose of his being, had revealed 
 
 False destinies, and carved his sister's name 
 
 On temples built her virtue to defame. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 But he was deathless, — and immortal sin 
 Is not. Time triumphs over tyranny. 
 
 Even to Truth may Recklessness be kin, 
 And Virtue gather strength from Villany. 
 
 Great crimes can let a strong repentance in, 
 And discord harmonize a Litany, — 
 
 As binding Winter leaves a looser clod 
 
 To nourish seeds, and \\>c<\ the fruit of God.
 
 ALETHB. I 1 3 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 So now, repentant, Dynamis returns. 
 
 His eager heart bounds with the waterfall 
 So leaps towards Alethe. His lip burns 
 
 Her icy cheek, and doth the blush recall 
 Which left it. Memory from all her urns 
 
 Sheds recollections over both — on all 
 Her recollections writeth Love. The youth 
 Stoops to his sister; — Strength embraces Truth. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Sun-gilded, like an Autumn nectarine, 
 Is Dynamis. With power self-revered 
 
 Forth on the world his lifted glances shine. 
 
 His massive limbs, crisp locks, and manly beard 
 
 Seem emblems of an energy divine 
 
 To man devoted, and to God endeared, 
 
 Yet often it obscures the heavenward path, 
 
 Clouding its calmness with the storms of wrath. 
 
 Q
 
 114 ALETHE. 
 
 XXX. 
 
 His tawny vesture is a tiger's coat, 
 
 And weaponless he walks ; for his defence 
 His will suffices. As a royal boat 
 
 Cleaves, over-rides the water's turbulence, 
 Above the fiercest ocean crest will float, 
 
 So, at no terror trembling in suspense, 
 Firm Dynamis thro' danger shapes his way 
 And strikes the raging billows into spray. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Yet more enduring than the young athlete 
 I- that white maiden on whose bosom lies 
 
 His tranquil face. As when from summer's heat 
 To forest shades a panting leopard flies, 
 
 And, with his breath, the breath of lilies sweet 
 Whereon he sleepeth doth commingled rise 
 
 So placidly, so pleasantly doth rest 
 
 The toil-worn brother on his sister's breast.
 
 ALETI1K. 1 15 
 
 xxxi r. 
 
 Alethe singeth, so she sang of old 
 
 To bless the sleep of weary Dynamis ; 
 
 In gentle yoke her soft, white arms enfold 
 His neck, and often by her tender kiss 
 
 Is the rude wildness of his dreams controlled, 
 And, on their joined lashes, tears of bliss 
 
 Tell that in sleep the unsated eyes pursue 
 
 Pleasure still present to their inward view. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 Alethe watches, so she watched before. — 
 
 Her eyes, undimmed, were never closed in sleep, 
 
 Familiar with the stars; — and evermore 
 
 Unwearied watch will that white maiden keep. 
 
 Nor ever yet the toil of travel wore 
 
 Her magic strength away. The sources deep 
 
 Of her endurance, in God's garden lost, 
 
 Earth cannot close, and Time cannot exhaust. 
 
 Q 2
 
 116 ALETHE. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 At birth to her this deathless attribute 
 Of constancy, the great Creator gave. 
 
 When her twin brother in the bold pursuit 
 Of action suffered, she was made to save; — 
 
 She to exist, and he to execute 
 
 Heaven's will beneath her guidance. Ever brave, 
 
 But often building up the cause of wrong, 
 
 Only Alothe made his building strong. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 With even pace, nor ever quickly, moved 
 The maiden, constant to her forward way ; 
 
 While Dynamis with rapid impulse roved, 
 And often from his sister's path would stray. 
 
 Him found fatigued, she lovingly reproved, 
 And, while he slept, upon the road would stay 
 
 To watch his slumber, and with song and kiss 
 
 To bring refreshment to her Dynamis.
 
 ALETHE. 11 
 
 XXXV J. 
 
 His strength of hand, to aid her strength of heart, 
 
 Alethe needed in her wandering, 
 Nor ever could she from one spot depart 
 
 Unless with her that brother she might bring, 
 But, waiting till he should from sleep upstart, 
 
 Beneath the night her music she would sing. 
 Where he deserted her she would remain, 
 Hoping, until he came to her again. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 So he long time within that narrow glen 
 Had left her singing by the waterfall, 
 
 While he went forth alone, inciting men 
 To thriftless labours. Evil entls befal 
 
 Their rash beginning. As the fruitless fen 
 Begets an evanescent meteor ball, 
 
 So from the waste of undirected power 
 
 The rising glory glitters out its hour.
 
 I I 8 AI.KTHK. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 Now the fulfilling Angel of her Hope 
 Beholds her brother on Alethe's breast. 
 
 His head again between the peaceful slope 
 Of her warm bosom's hills is now at rest. 
 
 Of all his work, God made her will the scope ; 
 And, in his trouble, her he trusteth best. 
 
 She, perfect, swerves not, he, impulsive, errs, 
 
 Her love pursues him, and his heart is hers. 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 The mantle of thick silence soon shall fall 
 Softly, like snow, on this deserted place ; 
 
 For Dynamis shall waken, and the call 
 Of his Alethe, to*the human race 
 
 Shall bring them, aiding. Then, beneath the pall 
 Of life, here lizards will each other chace 
 
 Unseen, — a yew bough stir, — cloud-shadows pass, — 
 
 The torrent play — winds only tread the grass.
 
 ALETIIE. 1 I 
 
 XL. 
 
 Whose poet art thou ? Doth thy song pursue 
 The path of armies, like some barrack trull, 
 
 Counting' the terrible above the True, 
 Butchery charming, but the Bible dull ; 
 
 The close allegiance unto Heaven clue 
 Paid to the Hero whose utensil-skull, — 
 
 Like the grim goblet in the feasts of yore, — 
 
 Its measure filled, most blood of foes will pour? 
 
 XLI. 
 
 Or doth it lick beneath a lady's feet 
 
 The soil, and, like the Lurley-spirit, sing 
 
 Strains which delight her ear with soft entreat, 
 But foul disdain upon her Nature fling ; — 
 
 Float poison odours, dangerously sweet, 
 
 Soft on the breath, within the breast to sting ;- 
 
 Pour through her heart in languishing desire 
 
 A smoke which suffocates its vestal fire.
 
 120 ALETHE. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Or doth thy song- delight to sing" of Wine, 
 Of revels in the thought-destroying flood ; 
 
 Sing that God's Image is the most divine 
 
 With fish-like eyes, moist, in a maudling mood, 
 
 Or roaring frail affection, line by line 
 In bully ballads, basely understood, 
 
 While Reason reeleth, poisoned, on her throne, — 
 
 She falls — Hell rises — makes her realm its own. 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 If thus to false excitement thou shalt give 
 
 The labour which God lent thee for the Just, — 
 
 Servant of Dynamis when he doth strive, 
 Forgetful of Alethe, in the lust 
 
 Of his unaided power to arrive 
 
 More quickly at his end, — into the dust 
 
 With his, thy toil will drop, thy gains decay 
 
 Until Alethe guide thee on the way.
 
 ALETHE. l'Jl 
 
 XLTV. 
 
 Whose Poet art thou ? Doth thy Spirit pour 
 The songs abroad which through all bosoms rang 
 
 Of those who dwelt beside the river shore 
 When lone Alethe near its sources sang? 
 
 The songs of lone Alethe bring no more 
 That first emotion. Harps no longer hang 
 
 Upon our boughs ; hearts rarely now caress 
 
 Life with lute-melodies of loveliness. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Be thou the Poet whom Alethe leads, 
 
 Thy truthful pleading let her prompting warm ; — 
 Establish thou thy doctrine by thy deeds, 
 
 With Dynamis do thou her will perform. 
 Work unlamenting. When the bruised foot bleeds, 
 
 Bear thou thy burden, battle with the storm ; 
 Advance, — act, — illustrate, — all power seize 
 To strengthen toil. — That will not be disease. 
 
 R
 
 ]•_>•_> 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 Not beneath Love's inexorable sway, 
 
 There is a tranquil haven, and therein 
 
 Two vessels, which did from one shore begin 
 
 A destined voyage, may rest upon their way. 
 
 Similitudes of form and language spin 
 
 A web which binds them in the foreign land 
 
 To closer intercourse ; delights are planned 
 
 For mutual enjoyment, so they win 
 
 The gold of Time, till, bound to other port, 
 
 One friendly vessel from that haven sails. 
 
 Then the deserted its lost mate bewails 
 
 Until a new companion exhort 
 
 To joy, in the old language. So may come 
 
 Succeeding Brides, to bless a single Home.
 
 N E M P H I L. 
 
 " Bene e verace Amor quel che m' ha preso 
 E ben mi stringe forte ; 
 Quand 'io farei quel ch' io dico, per lui." — Dante. 
 
 r2
 
 N E M P H I L. 
 
 " This superstition is an old one concerning fairy rings. If any pure maid sluil I 
 so trespass as to sleep, on certain nights, within one of these circles on the grass, 
 she is likely to be removed by its proprietors. And, if her friends behold her no 
 more for twelve months and a day, then she is said to be adopted by the fairies, 
 and supposed to become a perpetual denizen of their mysterious land." 
 
 PART I. 
 
 Straight as the shaft of spear, a silver line 
 Doth mark the vessel's track. An eagle, held 
 One instant trammelled in the fowler's net, 
 Darts not more swiftly from its prisonment 
 Than did yon bark when, on grey wing outspread, 
 First fluttering in the river's islet thread, 
 She floated forth upon the lake's blue waters. 
 
 Straight as the shaft of spear, a silver line 
 Doth paint her passage towards Erwin Tree.
 
 126 NEMOPHIL. 
 
 Venator comes. The vessel strikes the sand, 
 And lashing waves reproach the rule they bear. 
 Alone Venator conies. He leaps to land: 
 A single maiden waits to meet him there. 
 Prayerful and silent, by the moonlit sea 
 The fond lone stood : awaiting one 
 Who came not. When her gentle eye perceived 
 Venator unaccompanied, — her prayer 
 Unanswered, yet still undespairing — tears 
 Gathering upon her reddened cheek did stand 
 Like dew upon the rose-leaves. Faithful maid ! 
 She like a woodbine twined once around 
 Her idol-temple, absent Nemophil. 
 
 •• She is not lost, Venator;" — tenderly 
 
 [one speaks : — " yet there remains one span 
 
 Ere the moon reach mid-heaven. Though, year-long, 
 
 Thy love hath sought, ours waited — yet an hour 
 
 Remains, last hour of hope, and knowest thou 
 
 That hope and music still most deeply sink,
 
 NEMOPHIL. I '27 
 
 And sweetest are, when dying? Doubt thou not. 
 Stretch the warm hand of love up into heaven, 
 Her palm shall meet it. Thou shalt draw her back 
 Into thy bosom. — Fairies cannot will 
 One sorrow to the soul of Nemophil. 
 Fear thou no ill from the chaste elfin throng : 
 Do thou but love, they cannot do love wrong. 
 Yet doubt thou not, yet be thou not faint-hearted. 
 Love as she loveth, ye will not be parted." 
 
 Nature and thought are one. The waking day 
 Scatters its first faint smiles on the dark world, 
 They shed no general light ; but where the snow 
 Lies whitest, where the waters are most clear, 
 Into the dewdrop and the diamond 
 The first ray sinks. So ever on pure hearts 
 Pure things first dawn. Venator heard no sound 
 When ceased Ione's voice. He heard no sound 
 Above the flowing music on the sand : — 
 The sighing of the wood-imprisoned Lake : —
 
 128 NEMOPHIL. 
 
 Why did lone listen? 
 
 " Hark, they come ! 
 " The fairies eome !" she cried. Across the moon 
 A film of summer mist there seemed to pass, 
 Borrowing' radiance ; brighter this became, 
 And brighter, floating o'er the star-built sky, 
 And brightest as it sank towards the Lake, 
 A sister light in Heaven, bent to kiss 
 The silent Lenimar. 
 
 A sense there came 
 Of melody ; — 
 
 Not music ; yet there might have been a sound ; 
 Both felt it : an emotion of delight 
 Without its sensual cause. Upon each soul 
 It crept. Ione's lip was closed with awe. 
 Then shapes of beauty played within the cloud, 
 Like motes in sunlight, of whose radiant forms 
 The eye grasps all in one, but not one singly. 
 
 [one kneels. Venator, prompted, lifts
 
 NEMOPHIL. 120 
 
 His outstretched arm. With that act, suddenly, 
 There floats a flood of flame across the sky. 
 
 The vision is no more. Black mountain-clouds 
 Roll o'er the spot in heaven which it filled, 
 They spread ; the sky is veiled. The water's breast 
 Heaves with a strange emotion. Thunders peal ; 
 The trumpet of a judgment angel sounds. 
 The powers of Light and Darkness are at war, 
 And, as they cast each vivid mass of Light 
 From those black caves, the forces of the Night 
 With boastful roar pursue the fugitive. 
 
 Now do these spell- bound giants live, and yearn 
 
 To join the dreadful combat. Every tree 
 
 Doth groan and struggle. Now they seek to loose 
 
 The binding earth from their vast roots, when thus 
 
 Each sturdy trunk is shaken. — The loud wind 
 
 Dashes the frothing waters of the lake 
 
 Across lone. Silent, motionless,
 
 ] 'M NEMOPHIL. 
 
 Without a fear, the trusting maiden kneels. 
 Venator trembles. A torn branch is hurled 
 Upon the beach before them. Kneeling still 
 lone lifts her folded palms to God 
 And feareth not. Wildly Venator clings 
 Around the Tree for aid. From falling huts 
 To the less fragile shelter of the boughs, 
 While their homes' crash the perilled tenants fly. 
 These giants live. The legend of the wood, 
 In such a night as this, dares none deny. 
 
 Thus tell the foresters : — A fairy Queen 
 Was Lenimar, whom Erwin deigned to love, 
 i Erwin, the chieftain of a giant tribe,) 
 But loved not worthily. Her eye was light, 
 
 His darkness ; and no fellowship had they ; 
 Then Erwin, shrinking from the fairy's sight, 
 
 Came back to war against her gentle sway. — 
 Rude war of strength against a world of grace ! 
 He came. — With legions of his giant race
 
 NEMOPHIL. 131 
 
 Encompassed her. — Sunk, conquered, at his feet, 
 Breathless, yet stainless, did the Virgin lie. 
 
 Breathe, Lenimar, — one only spell ! Defeat 
 The coward purpose ! — Yes, thou hast a sigh ; 
 
 One long, sad sigh. — Sweet fairy queen, farewell ! 
 
 Heavy upon thy bosom rests the hand 
 Of Erwin. See, that sigh was her last spell. 
 
 Above a fountain doth the giant stand. 
 Behold, in fear, the ponderous host retreat ; 
 The flowing waters follow still their feet : 
 Transforming limbs more painfully they move ; 
 Then halt, — for ever fixed : — one mighty forest grove. 
 
 These giants live. To-night, with brutal force, 
 Again they labour to escape the charm. 
 Great Erwin Tree alone, above the Lake, 
 Unmoved his mighty tread, bends proudly calm. 
 While lightnings lick each far extended palm. 
 Therefore around the base of Erwin Tree 
 
 s 2
 
 132 tfEMOPHIL. 
 
 Crouches a trembling throng. Closer in dread 
 
 Than ever yet in timid love's embrace 
 
 Cling lovers there, heart singing unto heart. 
 
 Closer in fear than yet in infant faith 
 
 The babe creeps to its home between the breasts. 
 
 Shrouding his household, the gaunt woodman spreads 
 
 His cloak against each ghastly blaze of light. 
 
 But the old man looks — timeworn, isolate — 
 
 Up to that angry heaven with filmy eye, 
 
 And in the bursting of each thunderclap 
 
 Hears, doubting, the dark message: " Thou shalt die !" 
 
 Moonlight upon the shore, upon the wave, 
 
 Moonlight upon the leafy capital 
 
 Of each eternal column. Broken rays, 
 
 Through the wet foliage, shine among the group 
 
 Of tremblers. And across Ione's face 
 
 A mild ray falls. 
 
 The Lake doth smile again. 
 Men trust thy story, gazing thus on thee,
 
 XKMol'HIL. 133 
 
 Pale Lenimar, dear wood-encircled sea. 
 
 As queenly now and fair to look upon 
 
 As when — ere yet within thine elfin court 
 
 Unwonted loves were told — the fairy troop 
 
 Paid to thee willing homage. Homage still 
 
 The fairies bring. Each summer breeze which goes 
 
 Whispering, at twilight, through that forest hoar, 
 Plucks the ripe leaves from every day-kissed rose, 
 
 And strews its burden on thy tranquil shore. 
 
 The summer night looks with a thousand eyes 
 
 Upon the flood ; the spirit of each star, 
 Leaving its wondrous home in ether, lies 
 
 Upon thy pulseless breast, pale Lenimar. 
 
 As many petals as the breeze doth bring ; 
 
 As many stars as mingle with thy sheen : 
 So many fairies still around thee sing; 
 
 So many, subjects still, do serve thee still their Queen.
 
 1L)4 NEMOPHIL. 
 
 Intently through the starry firmament 
 
 lone gazes. Her calm prayer hath ceased, 
 
 The very breath which wafted it to heaven 
 
 Seems lingering in heaven with the prayer. 
 
 Her bosom is all still. Strange harmonies 
 
 The woodmen hear, — above, around, — they seem, 
 
 Following softly where a ray hath trod, 
 
 Like moonbeam music, hymns which light may sing, 
 
 Wandering from heaven through the worlds of God. 
 
 A sudden cry breaks through the melody, 
 
 Ke-echoes through the cloisters of the grove ; 
 
 A cry of joy, and from Tone's lips, 
 
 A cry of love, the name of " Nemophil!" 
 
 Once and again the name of Nemophil 
 
 Thrills through her ancient dwelling in the wood. 
 
 Why doth Venator mutter that dear name? 
 
 Ione's brow is crimsoned with delight, 
 
 [one's arms outspread, in haste to claim 
 
 The love which must be ransomed to-night,
 
 NEMOPHIL. 135 
 
 Or lost to earth for ever. — There are sobs 
 Which float above the Lake ; and fairy shapes, 
 Playing an instant on the sight, dissolve. 
 These all are sad. lone heedeth none. 
 Trust in her heart, and ignorance of ill, 
 Her lips pour forth the name of Nemophil. 
 
 The lake doth ripple round an elfin boat, 
 
 The light breeze flutters in its snowy sail : — 
 
 She comes. Ione's foot is on the wave. 
 She comes. Venator's lip is ashen pale. — 
 
 Upon the prow a fairy figure stands 
 Of noble manhood, 'tis the fairy kino-: 
 
 His face averse he covers with his hands, 
 
 While weeping strains unseen attendants sing. 
 
 Kneeling, half fondly, by the spirit's side 
 A blue-robed maid, the forest Nemophil, 
 
 Is gazing down upon the silver tide 
 
 While on her ear those warning accents thrill.
 
 L36 NEMOPHIL. 
 
 '• Thou floatest, beloved, 
 From rills of light, 
 To the silent land 
 Of the dreary night. 
 
 " The cold, cold world,— 
 All cold, like Death, — 
 Shall moan in thy heart 
 With its icy breath. 
 
 "Thy heart is so tender, 
 Martyr of Love, 
 linger with us 
 
 In this heaven above ! 
 
 -i An angel-suitor 
 
 By thee doth serve. 
 Spiritus loveth, 
 
 And doth deserve.
 
 NEMOPHIL. 1 37 
 
 Spiritus loveth ; yet not from his lip 
 
 Cometh the plaintive suit. He doth deserve. 
 
 Heaven only saw the tears of Nemophil, 
 
 Heaven, and Lenimar upon whose flood 
 
 The light drops fell. Then suddenly she turned, 
 
 And tenderly removing one thin hand 
 
 From that bright spirit's face, into his eyes 
 
 Looked up ; so spoke with him. One gentle kiss 
 
 She printed then upon the fairy's brow. 
 
 Fond Spiritus, the first kiss and the last 
 
 From lips of thy beloved Nemophil. 
 
 Then calmly bent the fairy over her, 
 And from her flowing golden locks removed 
 The twining chaplet, — yet — was it design 
 Or chance ? — one little flow'ret lingered still 
 Among those locks imprisoned. 
 
 Spiritus 
 Is gone. The boat hath vanished on the shore.
 
 138 NEMOPHIL. 
 
 And Nemophil within Ione's arms 
 Is clasped exultingly. 
 
 Go forth, my Voice, and, with the worldling wroth, 
 To him whose love is lucre-fed declare 
 
 How Nemophil, true to a broken Troth, 
 
 Came back from heaven to this land of care. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 " Forgive me, Nemophil !" It is a God, 
 It is a God within a mortal breast, 
 This heaven-created Love. It clothes the world 
 With blossom, showers music all around, 
 Pure, everlasting, all-compassionate; 
 Sinned against daily, grief destroys it not; — 
 Nothing receiving, still it gives; forgives 
 The sinner; spirit-like, unnourished lives.
 
 NEMOPHIL. 139 
 
 lift your hearts, ye maidens and ye youths, 
 Lift up your hearts, and love like Nemophil ! 
 Never one thought of worldly profiting 
 Must curdle like a poison in the cup 
 Of lovers' bliss ; — there is a curse on gain, 
 Happy are they who give the most in love. 
 Never one word, — one little word of strife 
 Must soil the lips for kissing, or the kiss 
 Beareth no blessing in it. Lovers strife 
 Exists not, or, if it exist, it wears 
 Another than the fabled character. 
 It is not the light April storm which passes, 
 Leaving the sky serene, the air more pure ; 
 Each cruel word doth cut a separate wound, 
 A wound that may remain, and if it heal 
 A lasting scar is its memorial. 
 ' There is no fear in Love, for perfect Love 
 Casteth out fear,' — thus sang a voice from God, 
 The voice of Love's Apostle. Jealousy 
 Delusive minstrels have with love entwined ; 
 
 t 2
 
 U<» NEMOPHIL. 
 
 No part, no part. As the gorged Dragon sleeps 
 Entwined around the spotless shivering Nymph, 
 Its victim cruelly reprieved, so link 
 Pure stainless Love and Jealousy together. 
 Trust not the Poet's tale of bitter-sweet, 
 Heaven hath no bitter in 't, and Love is Heaven. 
 Last and most godlike, crowning work of Love, 
 Self must be sacrificed. Another's joy, 
 Another's wealth, another's heavenward steps 
 Are love's best care. Is Self upon the throne 
 Of thine unconquered heart, thou lovest not. 
 By sacrifice ; and sacrifice alone ; 
 Is pure Love worshipped. 
 
 Happy is your lot, 
 Children of peace, who love like Nemophil ! 
 "Forgive me, Nemophil!" there whispereth 
 A voice into her ear. Sweet whispering 
 Like that of summer Minds whose lullaby 
 The nested birds among the foliage 
 At twilight hear such welcome murmurers
 
 NEMOPIIIL. 141 
 
 Were once Venator's words to Nemophil. 
 
 But many days are in a mortal year, 
 
 And many thoughts make up a mortal day, 
 
 And many thoughts within Venator's heart 
 
 Had come and gone since earth lost Nemophil. 
 
 Frail is the clay we tenant ; earth to earth 
 
 Attracted strains; a minute's accident 
 
 O'erturns the balanced strength, or time impairs 
 
 The little moulded mass, and into dust 
 
 It crumbles. Frailer yet is worldly love, 
 
 Disturbed and drawn aside by every lure 
 
 Of the world's ever-changing scenery, 
 
 Injured by every thrust within a crowd 
 
 Where all are thrusting, jostling with each other ; 
 
 Dependent on a hundred careless censors, 
 
 Declaring well to-day, and ill to-morrow ; 
 
 Running aside for gold, and back for jewels ; 
 
 Dazzled by dancing lights, believing all 
 
 And moving as if blindfold, worldly love 
 
 Doth grope its painful way. There is no hope,
 
 142 NEMOPHIL. 
 
 No faith, no peace, in earth-love. All alone 
 It fights forlorn against unnumbered foes ; 
 It dies ; and finds in death no charity. 
 Thus loved Venator. Nemophil forgives ; 
 Yields all ; — and still loves on. — 
 
 Upon a moss-grown rock near to the sea, 
 
 The heaven deserting Nemophil reclines ; 
 A sunbeam, captive in her golden hair, 
 
 Like a bright cloud about her forehead shines. 
 Her azure robe doth half unite its tints 
 With the soft radiance of surrounding air : 
 And still she seems ethereal, still the si<m 
 Of fairy life plays through the fond blue eye 
 Which rests upon Venator standing by. 
 • Forgive me, Nemophil ! " — " I all forgive, 
 And yet I know not wherein thou hast erred." 
 Sweet Nrniophil, love in thy heart doth live; 
 T»» fault forgiveness is thine echo-word.
 
 NEMOPHIL. 143 
 
 Tliere is a spectacle upon the lake ; 
 Boat after boat, in flaunting bravery, 
 Through yonder gilded isles doth gaily float, 
 Long pennons wave. And joyous minstrelsy 
 Times the glad rower's oar. 
 
 " A bridal song ; 
 And mine the bride. Forgive me, Nemophil. 
 Dearest, I did not will to do thee wrong ; 
 Though mine, and not for thee the marriage strain, 
 I did not think to hear thy voice again. 
 Forgive me, Nemophil ! " 
 
 " I all forgive. 
 I will renounce my second destiny. 
 I will remain with thee ! " 
 
 " Ah no, ah no — 
 She loves thee ; leave her not." 
 
 " Thou lovest me," 
 Venator murmurs; then his voice is still. 
 He hears the panting heart of Nemophil. 
 A spirit speaks with her ; — for, in the pain
 
 144 NEMOPHIL. 
 
 Of this first grief, out of her golden hair 
 
 Had fallen the one rose which doth remain 
 
 Of that bright flower-crown which she did wear ; 
 
 And in the minute's sense of agony 
 
 She kissed the relic. — Even love oppressed 
 
 Must speak, and fond deeds are the voice of love. 
 
 Torn from its natural embrace, it clings 
 
 To flower, bird, or tree ; it cannot hang 
 
 Its listless arms, but it must fondle still, 
 
 And commune fondly with some gentle thing. — 
 
 Lo, at the kiss upon that fairy rose 
 
 Impressed, the mournful music of the night 
 Loudly, more loudly to her sad ear flows, 
 
 And fairy realms re-open to her sight. 
 Loud in each accent of the bridal hymn 
 
 She hears the burden of their elfin song: 
 " Martyr of Love ! " — .Now she beholdeth him, 
 
 Pure Spiritus, among the sinless throng. 
 Most perfect of a perfect race is he, 
 And his an undefiled destiny.
 
 NEMOrHIL. | If) 
 
 He kneels before the mortal. " I have loved." 
 
 So to his gaze the tearful Nemophil 
 
 Yields answer. " Tempt me not, but leave me." Then, 
 
 As doubtful of herself, with eager hands 
 
 Those eyes like blue and sunny firmaments 
 
 She doth obscure. — And Spiritus is gone. — 
 
 Venator saw not the maid's elfin suitor. 
 
 " I have loved. Leave me ! " these the words he heard, 
 
 " I have loved. Leave me ! " and the bridal song 
 
 Approaches and the bridal train invites 
 
 His tardy step. — She looks not up at him. 
 
 Still with her fingers o'er each eyelid pressed, 
 
 Silent and calmly breathing she doth rest. 
 
 Hark to the music, see the laughing crew, 
 One kiss, and so — from the old love to the new. 
 First by a fond and passionate embrace, 
 By words of love with fury strangely mixed, 
 Is Nemophil awakened. At her side — 
 Venator gone — the dear lone kneels. 
 
 u
 
 1 4(1 NEMOPHIL. 
 
 Bosom to bosom she doth press. " Arise, 
 
 Beloved, — see, the Lake avenges thee ! — 
 
 Rao-e, Lenimar ! Strike their accursed fleet!" 
 
 Her dark eyes flashing, one slight arm outstretched, 
 
 With action menacing, she bends above 
 
 The moss} 7 rock now beaten by the sea. 
 
 " His sail is broken. Aid me, Lenimar, 
 
 One blow of righteous vengeance on the bark ! " 
 
 But Nemophil with tranquil smile doth kiss 
 
 The fairy rose again, and she doth dare 
 On Spiritus to call : " Sweet Spiritus, 
 
 For my love and for thine, assist my prayer." 
 
 The flower is gone. The fairy lake is still. 
 In morning light o'er an untroubled sea 
 The fleet is passing by, while Nemophil 
 Kneels, gazing, on the rock. Pure as the light 
 Around her is the maiden's whispered prayer. 
 The fondest blessings on thy bridal night, 
 Venator, Nemophil is sobbing there !
 
 NEMOPHIL. 147 
 
 Go forth, my voice, and, with the worldling wroth, 
 Who loving one weds more, and thinks no ill ; 
 
 Tell how pure Nemophil interprets troth, 
 How love forsaken, mourneth loving still. 
 
 PART III. 
 
 Noon o'er the lake. The sleepy sands are warm 
 Save where the cool tide laves them, and the birds 
 Roost idly sheltered in the foliage 
 Of that vast wood. Light streams among the trees ; 
 In their close paths beneath they have obscured 
 All-covering heaven from view, yet the glad ray 
 Will enter : so the world hath shut out God, 
 Yet to the closest corner penetrates 
 Diffused, the sunshine of his tender care. 
 
 u 2
 
 t48 NEMOPHIL. 
 
 Long years have fled, still faithful doth remain 
 
 The fond lone to her early friend ; 
 And still shall Nemophil's firm heart sustain 
 
 Its noble grief, its love without an end. 
 
 These two together share a single cot 
 
 Beside the lake ; there nightly as they pass 
 
 The fairies dance around the hallowed spot, 
 And leave their mystic circle on the grass. 
 
 Secured from evil hap by fairy power, 
 
 The dwelling stands. — By fairy guards concealed- 
 Unseen — save some time in the twilight hour 
 
 By a chance feeling to the sense revealed. 
 
 By fairy guards is each unholy tread 
 Averted from that consecrated ground ; 
 
 By fairy servitors the board is spread ; 
 
 By fairy hands the gayest blossoms found
 
 NEMOI'IIIL. 140 
 
 To plant the garden, or to twine its bowers, 
 To strew its paths, and arch them overhead ; 
 
 Nightly fresh moss and petals of strange flowers 
 Breathing new odours, build the sisters' bed. 
 
 Soft is the couch, arranged by fairy hands, 
 Whereon like doves they nestle side by side ; 
 
 And, mingling in their dreams, fond elfin bands 
 With blossom veils each mournful image hide. 
 
 Or doth a dreamer wake to weeping, then 
 There murmurs at her ear a fairy strain, 
 
 Or floats upon the breeze o'er lake and glen, 
 Lulling her back to peaceful rest again. 
 
 Oft, while those elfin voices are all still, 
 Bends Spiritus above the tender pair. 
 
 Then clasps lone tranquil Nemophil, 
 
 Sleeping, yet sobbing with a blind despair.
 
 150 XKMoPHIL. 
 
 Hut never once before their waking eves 
 Appeared the fairy king. His love is pure. 
 
 No selfish hope into his heart doth rise. 
 
 He loves ; she loveth : both loves must endure. 
 
 From him all fairy honour freely flows, 
 And never doth his liberal bounty cease ; 
 
 He seeks no recompense, save her repose, — 
 To see her smile, to think she is at peace, 
 
 To know that he hath brought to her a joy, 
 These the rewards to Spiritus most dear ; 
 
 And Nemophil, by no false lust made coy, 
 Receives his gifts and service without fear. 
 
 Whispering at times: "I bless thee, Spiritus!" — 
 
 Her whisper falls not upon listless air ; 
 And, if she prays amid her solitude, 
 
 \n unseen angel joins in all her prayer.
 
 XEMOPHIL. 151 
 
 The holy symbols which in fruit and flower 
 Express Divinity ; the water's voice ; 
 The writing on the sky's unfolded page 
 Which spreads at night before the spirit world 
 That infinite and never-weary tale 
 Of God's eternal glory, and His works, 
 All writ in light, and every point of light 
 A glory world ; of these, and of the truth 
 And love which human hearts to human kind, 
 As rendered unto God, should ever bear : 
 The teaching of her own untainted soul, 
 Brightened with knowledge from the fairy-world 
 Daily of these to guileless auditors 
 Is Nemophil's discourse. — Surrounded now 
 By baskets flower-wreathed, and sunny fruits, — 
 The constant payment of their constant toil, — 
 lone, Nemophil, beneath the grove 
 Within a group of eager children move. 
 There every heart pours its unsullied love 
 Upon the sainted pair ; for through the wood
 
 152 NEMOPHIL. 
 
 With kindling awe these sisters are revered. 
 
 They heal the sick, they visit them that mourn, 
 
 Strange comfort to the good, and strange rebuke 
 
 To evil soul in their mild voices dwell ; 
 
 And eagerly the little infants press 
 
 To feel their fondling touch, believe, and rear 
 
 Into a creed of Love, each word they hear. 
 
 Nemophil now doth clasp Ione's form — 
 Too slender span ! — It may be, this thin form 
 Which like the pale-leaved poplar quivereth, 
 This wasted image of the black-eyed girl 
 Of olden time, wanting that firm support, 
 Would stand erect no more. A vivid light 
 Shines from beneath the drooping lids which veil 
 Her altered glance; all tremulous and white 
 The sunken features, and around them flow 
 Her fallen tresses, like a cloud of night, 
 Fearful horizon to the moonlit snow.
 
 NEMOPHIL. 153 
 
 The children flock around them, and like birds 
 Press to receive the precious grain which falls. 
 Nemophil teacheth ; and Ione's voice 
 Aids ever with one lesson, learned at will : 
 She prints a kiss upon some upturned face : — 
 ' I thank thee, child, — thou lovest Nemophil ! ' 
 
 " lone — dearest — lift this fallen head — 
 I shudder — God — upon my bosom dead ! " 
 Nemophil weeps, — alone. 
 
 Go forth, my Voice, and with the worldling wroth, 
 To him whose love is lucre-fed declare 
 
 How Nemophil, true to a broken troth, 
 Bore her dark portion in this land of care.
 
 154 
 
 STANZA. 
 
 Night hath to God departed, prayer-laden. 
 
 As when through autumn twilight homeward throng 
 From the day's gleaning maiden after maiden, 
 
 Each with a full sheaf glad, so — with a song 
 Awakening the lark — so pass along, 
 
 Their bosoms burdened with a gathered store, 
 The pleasant hours which to the night belong, 
 
 And in the garner of our God they pour 
 Hopes, praises, pure resolves, fruits which the darkness bore.
 
 TRANSLATION 
 
 FROM 
 
 LAMARTINE'S "JOCELYN. 
 
 x 2
 
 EXTRACT FROM JOCELYX. 
 
 (NEUVIEME EPOQUE.) 
 
 Valneige, July, 1 80] . 
 
 Last night among us the poor pedlar died : 
 Planks for his bier no neighbour would provide. 
 Even the smith refused a coffin nail : 
 " It is a Jew, — I know not from what jail 
 Last loose, — a foe to God whom we adore, 
 Who, did he live again, would, as before, 
 Outrage his Maker. To the Christian dead 
 His corpse would bring infection." — So he said. — 
 " Into the rock-clefts cast him like a hound ! 
 Shade for a Jew beneath no cross is found. 
 Only for us is dug the consecrated ground."
 
 158 EXTRACT FROM JOCELYN. 
 
 The Jew's pale wife and little infants cry 
 
 In vain for pity from the passers by ; 
 
 Dispute the body with an angry crowd, 
 
 And by the feet retain it in the shroud. 
 
 Of this vile usage made aware by chance, 
 
 I sought the throng, dispersed them with a glance 
 
 To wife and children both my hands extended, 
 
 Spoke shame on Christians for Christ offended, 
 
 And, blushing for them, to inter the dead 
 
 " Go," bade I, " Take the planks out of my bed." 
 
 Then, that they might be taught of Tolerance, 
 
 First virtue due to human ignorance, 
 
 And how the sun and God give light for all, 
 
 And how, despite of us, His blessings fall, 
 
 I told this tale, born of the fabler's art, 
 
 With which my memory supplied my heart. — 
 
 In days when mankind sought a resting-place, 
 There paused to dwell beside the Nile one race; —
 
 EXTRACT FROM .IOCELYN. 159 
 
 These men, grown fond and jealous of the stream, 
 
 Loved it in ignorance as God Supreme : 
 
 Life unto those who drank, it would supply, 
 
 They said. We drink of it, and others die. 
 
 And when, one day, some wandering caravans 
 
 Came to draw water in unhallowed cans, 
 
 They chased them from the brink with jealous blows, 
 
 Telling themselves : " For us God's water flows. 
 
 Seen when we walk our fields, drunk only then ; — 
 
 These people know it not : and are not men." 
 
 But the Angel of the Lord heard their belief, 
 And said, — The triumph of this race, how brief 
 To teach their hearts to feel that Heaven gave 
 For all the world its water to the wave, 
 A tribe with camels from afar he brought 
 Who, by the Nile, to drink its waters sought: 
 And, while the stupid guardians of the God 
 Hostile against their thirsting rivals strode,
 
 1 (JO EXTRACT FROM JOCELYN. 
 
 The Angel opened fountains in the sky, 
 
 And on each band rained torrents from on High. 
 
 The strangers drank from lakes by tempest made, 
 
 While, to those others, thus the Angel said : — 
 
 " foolish people, these whom you refuse, 
 
 Nearer the source dwelling, this current use. 
 
 Go, see the Universe. Of every race 
 
 A river feeds the fertile dwelling-place ; 
 
 These thousand torrents flow from the same sky ; 
 
 All water cometh from the Grace on High. 
 
 God in His Time, and by His Measure, gives 
 
 Brooks, rivers, — clear or foul, — by which each lives. 
 
 O mortals, are yours clearer and more sweet? 
 
 Take heed of Pride, from Jealousy retreat : 
 
 Know that all men are on One Bosom nursed ; 
 
 That he who satisfies not here his thirst 
 
 Has, in the summer, dew; in winter, rain, 
 
 Can from the Lake of Love, from God, obtain 
 
 The Deeded cup. — The world God's water laves, 
 
 For all Lands are ilis Lands; His Waves, all Waves.
 
 i:\TRACT FROM JOCELYN. IG1 
 
 " Tims is Religion filling us with Pride, 
 
 The sacred River we will not divide. 
 
 Say, you alone receive Light from on High ; 
 
 Say, beyond your hills night enwraps the sky ; 
 
 That he, who in this air draws not his breath, 
 
 Walks, blind and godless, through the shades of Death:- 
 
 But know, God only, Source of all our Light, 
 
 Breathes on all souls, to every eye gives sight. 
 
 Each man has his own day, each age its thought ; 
 
 With its own Truth, each Ray from Heaven is fraught ; 
 
 God onlv knows how much of light or shade 
 
 Shall for each child its proper ray pervade. 
 
 Yours is more limpid, warmer to the gaze : 
 
 Walk by its beams, warm thanks to Heaven raise. 
 
 But by the shade of Pride, or hand of Wrath, 
 
 Dim not the sunlight on thy brother's path. 
 
 Look you in him a brighter Truth to see, 
 
 Reflect his daylight from your Charity : 
 
 For the last Angel will, to judge the good, 
 
 Weigh creeds by hearts, as Iiivers by their flood. 
 
 Y
 
 lliLf EXTRACT FROM JOCELYN. 
 
 The rainbow which God paints is of all hues ; 
 
 But, by its warmth, we judge what fruits Light will produce. 
 
 My moral they perceived, and, with new strife, 
 Vied for the dead man's children and his wife.
 
 163 
 
 SONNET. 
 
 With Spiritual Freedom, and the Growth 
 Of human Intellect ; with the sweet art 
 Of Poetry, which arms within the heart 
 
 An Angel to wage war on worldly Sloth ; 
 With Human Love, its fine and grosser part, 
 
 And constant Friendship, differing from each ; 
 
 With Charity, which, as the spreading beech, 
 Yields shadow to the ploughmen, who depart 
 
 From narrow cots to toil beneath the sky, 
 When they for converse rest, so can subdue 
 The heat of those who labour for the True : 
 
 With these hath been my song. From flight so high 
 Now tremblingly the silent Muse descends, 
 And flutters through the people, seeking friends. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 Y 2
 
 BY THE SAME WRITER 
 
 Ik white cloth, with gilt edges, price 5s., 
 
 THE DREAM OF THE LILYBELL, 
 
 TALES, POEMS, AND TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 " The productions of an elegant, precocious, and educated mind, somewhat too 
 conscious of its talent, somewhat too deeply tinged with German studies, bul 
 withal deserving praise for delicacy and tact of execution, both in prose and verse, 
 seldom reached in juvenile productions. With such word of encouragement 
 we dismiss the writer, and with a hope that we shall meet him again when 
 his more matured reason shall have thrown over the creations of his fancy that 
 'pale cast of thought' which 'the inevitable years' will bring, and which, by 
 introducing ' the philosophic mind,' will confer, both on his poetry and prose, a 
 significance wherein they are both now in some degree deficient, though fre- 
 quently rising into so much tenderness and beauty as to justify ;i hope tit' Future 
 success." — A thencRum, May. L845.
 
 Price 3d. tach. or the two stitched in one cover, tid.. Second Edition, 
 
 TRACTS UPON HEALTH, 
 
 FOR COTTAGE CIRCULATION. 
 
 No. I.— HEALTH PRESERVATION. 
 
 No. II.— ON INTERRUPTED HEALTH AND SICK-ROOM DUTIES. 
 
 ■• In a short introductory note the author suggests that a good hint might 
 be taken from the Religious Tracts which circulate so extensively among the 
 poor, if professional men would but add to them a few Medical Tracts, similar 
 in form, in price, and in simplicity of style ; by aiming in these to substitute 
 true hygiene for the false systems of traditional prejudice, much disease and 
 death might be averted, and much happiness to the community might be 
 secured. We have been greatly pleased with the manner in which the author 
 has commenced this laudable but delicate task in the Tracts before us, which are 
 written with great clearness, and with the soundest discretion ; they contain in a 
 small compass many of those doctrines which it is the absolute duty of every pro- 
 ional man to impart to his own non-professional circle respecting the means 
 cf preserving health, and the cautions to be adopted by the sick. We cannot 
 refrain from giving a long extract from one of these Tracts, as we highly approve 
 of the spirit in which the author writes, and should be happy to find the pro 
 >n united to aid him in his sensible and benevolent purpose." — London 
 Medical i ,,,:.. tU ' >ctob< V. 184 7.
 
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