/a.^ - /f7 
 
Christ walks with men upon the shore, 
 
 He walks to men upon the wave ; 
 They tremble when those billows roar, 
 
 A pathway for His feet which pave. — Pa^e 8. 
 
Voices 
 
 OF THE 
 
 Sea, 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER POEMS, 
 
 BY 
 
 
 EDWARr 
 
 1 A. PHILLIPS, BA, 
 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 
 S. W. PARTRIDGE & Co., 9, PATERNOSTER ROW. 
 
l,OAN STACK 
 
^0d5^ 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 VOICES OF THE SEA :— 
 
 TAGE 
 
 The Whisper of the Shell 5 
 
 The Sea 7 
 
 A Sister's Voice : 11 
 
 The Stormy Petrel 13 
 
 The Albatross 13 
 
 Near Home 14 
 
 SON-NETS :— 
 
 Resurrection 17 
 
 Faith 18 
 
 Hope 19 
 
 Supplication 20 
 
 Unbelief 21 
 
 Discipleship 22 
 
 Sonship 23 
 
 Peace 24 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES :— 
 
 The Third Temptation 25 
 
 Conflict 27 
 
 A Christian 28 
 
 tZA M 
 
IV CONTENTS. 
 
 Miscellaneous Pieces {continued)— 
 
 TAGT. 
 
 Pilgrimage 30 
 
 Providence 32 
 
 .Submission .' 33 
 
 " Return unto thy Rest" 34 
 
 The Mirage 36 
 
 The Cascade 41 
 
 Gratitude 43 
 
 , Mnemosyne ^ 44 
 
 The Cross 46 
 
 Alpha and Omega 47 
 
 '• He comes " 48 
 
VOICES OF THE SEA. 
 
 THE WHISPER OF THE SHELL. 
 
 HIS shell, of thousands on the strand 
 Forsaken by the spoiling waves, 
 
 I take, and seem to hear a sound 
 Far in its pink-enamelPd caves : 
 
 Not as of ocean, where strong winds 
 Have with its countless billows warrM ; 
 
 But ocean^s grand accustomM part 
 In Nature's homage to its God. 
 
 Faintly its cadence and its swell 
 Breathe, in that innermost recess. 
 
 The thought that fills the great deep^s heart 
 With its sublime mysteriousness. 
 
VOICES OF THE SEA. 
 
 Such thought as memory's winding cells 
 
 To listening solitude restore, 
 And which the long-lapsed tide of years 
 
 Made vocal once upon life's shore : 
 
 Sad without portent_, since none dreads 
 The tale gleanM from departed years ; 
 
 And memory's face, if often pale_, 
 Yet never can wax pale with fears. 
 
 This spreads a deeper calm around 
 
 While seems this breathing shell to me 
 
 To catch, in faintest tones from far. 
 The solemn voices of the sea. 
 
VOICES OF THE SEA. 
 
 THE SEA. 
 
 One said, whose gentle life — so brief! 
 
 Now dwells where there is no more sea, 
 " An instrument of loss and grief 
 
 The ocean always seems to me." 
 
 Who would her fancy have gainsaid, 
 
 When, from the spot on which she stood, 
 
 Half the world's breadth of waters spread 
 To that of her young widowhood ? 
 
 Another said, " On yonder beach, 
 The wild breaker^s passionate moan 
 
 Is, for my heart's great sorrow, speech. 
 When it can find none of its own.'^ 
 
 I know not what its phase may be 
 
 To any one's uncertain mood. 
 But God, who fashioned the great sea. 
 
 Beheld that it was very good. 
 
VOICES OF THE SEA. 
 
 Good was it of a truth to me 
 
 When^ with unclouded skies above, 
 
 Around, the gHttering Indian sea, 
 A voice spake to me, " God is love/^ 
 
 I ask not where the Paradise 
 
 In which He walkM with man of old ; 
 Mine lay beneath those tropic skies. 
 
 The ocean was my Shepherd's fold. 
 
 Nautilus -like, my spirit moves 
 
 Along smooth deeps : when winds affright, 
 Out of their sound it drops and proves 
 
 His care and calmness infinite. 
 
 Christ walks with men upon the shore. 
 He walks to men upon the wave ; 
 
 They tremble when those billows roar, 
 A pathway for His feet which pave. 
 
 I love the sea that has obeyM 
 
 Consistently, since time began, 
 The will of Him its depths who made 
 
 Before He made rebellious man. 
 
VOICES OF THE SEA. 
 
 Earth's beauties bloom upon its breast, 
 And soon are withered in the sun, 
 
 But ocean^s, in its heart possessed, 
 Live till the sands of time are run. 
 
 When all its secrets are reveaFd, 
 The sea itself shall be no more ; 
 
 As lips that speak, and then are sealM, 
 Loved for the message that they bore. 
 
 I playM upon its sands, when time 
 
 To me was in its infancy ; 
 And the first thought of the sublime 
 
 Was whisperM to me by the sea. 
 
 And when, in after years, that place — 
 Alone with touching memories — 
 
 I saw, no change was on its face, 
 It was a past that never dies. 
 
 The footprints that with mine impress'd 
 Those sands, ten thousand tides ago. 
 
 Have, some of them, the pilgrim's rest 
 Attained, and none are with me now : 
 
TO VOICES OF THE SEA. 
 
 Only the long white line of foam 
 
 Upon the smooth unconscious shore, 
 
 Breathes with a sigh a sound like '^ Home ; '^ 
 One Home to be and one no more. 
 
VOICES OF THE SEA. II 
 
 A SISTER'S VOICE. 
 
 How often on my heedless ear, 
 In days departed,, that sweet tone 
 Had fallen soft ; but, though so near 
 The words were breathed, I did but hear 
 Not half they meant was known. 
 
 Now, stealing o'er the moonlit wave, 
 With the wild music of the sea. 
 Lost words from many an early grave — 
 Words which a gentle sister gave 
 Come sadly back to me. 
 
 I close mine eyelids, and I stand 
 Where no deep billows roll around ; 
 For, in my childhood's far-off land, 
 I seem to clasp her outstretched hand. 
 And listen to the sound. 
 
 Thus, one by one, youth's joys are gone 
 Ere we their costliness discern ; 
 Then, far on life's waste billows borne. 
 We close our weary eyes forlorn. 
 And woo them to return. 
 
12 VOICES OF THE SEA. 
 
 THE STORMY PETREL. 
 
 Up the wild ocean's storm-built heights, 
 
 Cloud-cappM with driving spray, 
 Mark yon sea-fondling's gleesome flights, 
 
 With the loud winds at play. 
 So to true hearts shall subject be 
 
 Life's troubled outward form. 
 As these vexM elements to thee. 
 
 Blithe spirit of the storm. 
 
VOICES OF THE SEA. 1 3 
 
 THE ALBATROSS. 
 
 I NEVER can forget how I have seen. 
 
 In ocean's boundless soHtudes, thy form 
 
 Weird and majestic, gliding now between 
 
 The deep sea-hollows, now, upon the storm. 
 
 Climbing the cloudy ramparts of the sky. 
 
 As one inured to tragic destiny ; 
 
 Or, while the desolate music of the blast 
 
 ThrillM in the harp-strings of the corded mast. 
 
 Sweeping with lordly state our vessel by. 
 
 Where is thy rest ? since fix'd abode is not 
 
 In all these regions. Thou art like some thought. 
 
 Moody and dark, which dominates man's soul, — 
 
 Where worse winds blow and deeper waters roll, — 
 
 Finding, where peace eludes the wanderer's quest, 
 
 A sullen calm, the counterfeit of rest ; 
 
 Wherewith, on pliant wing, the open wild 
 
 It ranges beneath skies unreconciled. 
 
 Part of a scene with ceaseless woes oppressed. 
 
J 4 VOICES OF THE SEA. 
 
 NEAR HOME. 
 
 He only calm^ of all that storm-tossM crew. 
 Whose fainting spirits hourly fainter grew, 
 While louder still the adverse tempest blew, — • 
 
 He only cairn, knew well nor height nor deep 
 Was there where the strong arm would fail to keep, 
 Of Him who " giveth His beloved sleep/' 
 
 So he lay down to rest : but while he dreamed. 
 
 Another scene, in which no starlight beamed. 
 
 To compass him with storm and darkness seem'd. 
 
 ImpellM by mad, unthinking zeal, he sped 
 From where God's martyr Stephen now lay dead. 
 The guiltless blood of other saints to shed. 
 
 Nor sun nor star illuminates his way, 
 When suddenly a beam more bright than day 
 Pours on his waken'd soul its burning ray ; 
 
VOICES OF THE SEA. 1 5 
 
 And One calls to him from the glorious height, 
 Speaks to his hearty sore stricken with the light. 
 Speaks to the man deprived of his proud sight. 
 
 '^ Say why, O Saul, thou persecutest me ? 
 But stand upon thy feet, for men shall see 
 The Name of Jesus magnified in thee.^^ 
 
 Anon the tumult is an angry throng 
 
 Of his own kindred : at his hand no wrong 
 
 Have they received, yet for his life-blood long. 
 
 Now safe from them, and years of sufPring pass'd, 
 God's chosen ones around his neck have cast 
 Their loving arms, and weep and hold him fast. 
 
 He wakes, it is a dream ; the storm-wind blows ; 
 His spirit yearns for that last scene and those. 
 For round him gather neither friends nor foes. 
 
 Yet comes a friend, as the clear light serene 
 That men behold the riven clouds between ; 
 One who the face of Christ has lately seen. 
 
l6 VOICES OF THE SEA. 
 
 '' Fear.notj O Paul ; thou must be brought to Rome; 
 
 It lieth in thy way and near thy home : 
 
 Fear not, though loud the tempest, white the foam/' 
 
 Nor does he fear, but, strong in hope that clings 
 To joy within the veil of earthly things, 
 Quits fear's low realm as upon eagle wings. 
 
 Yet one stage more, beyond this last rough sea. 
 And he, unwreckM by many storms, shall be 
 With Stephen's Lord, from death's frail body free. 
 
SONNETS. 
 
 RESURRECTION. 
 
 gY this cold rock and in this cheerless gloom, 
 Wherefore, lone weeper, hast thou vainly cried 
 Such bitter tears upon an empty tomb, 
 Deeming the absence of thy joy its doom ? 
 Look up, behold, One standeth at thy side. 
 Worthier these longings than th' embalmed dead, 
 One God hath given to mourners in His stead — 
 To all with tears who seek the Crucified. 
 He spake : in bitterness her heart replied ; 
 But as she gazed on Him with looks forlorn, ' 
 Lifting her pale face to the light of God, 
 Through her chill frame there flushM the hope of 
 
 dawn ; 
 Earth with its tombs — its thousand tombs — was 
 
 gone. 
 And radiant in eternal life she stood. 
 
l8 SONNETS. 
 
 FAITH. 
 
 " FATHER, where is the lamb ? " The old man leant, 
 And lookM upon his child. Had those clear eyes 
 Sought out the mystery of his souPs intent ? 
 Nay, there no gathering cloud of dark surmise 
 With the pure ray of meek inquiry blent. 
 '^ My son, for man^s most costly sacrifice, 
 God will Himself the chosen lamb provide.^' 
 No voice was heard upon the lonely height; 
 Each callM upon his Father — none replied. 
 On that dear face, now blanchM a deathly white, 
 LookM love's last agony ; above, the knife 
 Hung like a falcon o'er the shrinking life; 
 When, lo ! God saw His bloodless triumph won, 
 And broke the awful silence : '^ Spare thy son ! " 
 
SONNETS. 19 
 
 HOPE. 
 
 " Wilt thou go with this man ? " '^ If I should go/ 
 The maiden mused within herself, " I yield 
 The Past, the Presentj all of joy I know. 
 Save Hope's one star, that soon may cease to glow. 
 And, lo ! my father's trembling lips are seal'd, 
 And he whose arm hath ofttimes been my shield 
 Forbids not.'^ Then, in tearful accents low, 
 " Yea, God hath surely sent him; I will go.'' 
 So, from the dwelling she should see no more. 
 Southward the patriarch's meek camels strode. 
 And to strange lands the Syrian damsel bore : 
 Most blessed among women, she who chose 
 The tent of Sarah for her fix'd abode. 
 Over whose top the star of Jacob rose. 
 
20 SONNETS. 
 
 SUPPLICATION. 
 
 *' Lord, of a truth Thy straitenM children own 
 How these, whose tumult and hot rage divine 
 Such ills against this holy place of Thine, 
 The nations and their gods have quite consumed ; 
 But Thou Thyself, Jehovah, God alone, 
 Whose high decree their former victims doomM, 
 On their proud heads Thy wrath hast never shown, 
 Now, Lord, arise, for David^s royal throne, 
 Thine ancient covenant, and smite his foes.'' 
 
 There went an angel forth that night and slew, 
 
 Till when at dawn the pealing trumpets blew 
 
 To battle, of the mighty none arose : 
 
 Who did arise, with secret horror fled, 
 
 By none pursued — the living from the dead. 
 
SONNETS. 2 1 
 
 UNBELIEF. 
 
 Is unbelief a Philistine — a man 
 
 Of giant frame^ six cubits and a span, 
 
 With target, helm, and greaves of solid brass. 
 
 And coat of mail, through which no spear can pass • 
 
 And cries he with a bitter, taunting cry, 
 
 " Jehovah and his armies, I defy ; 
 
 Let one approach who holds not life too dear '' ? 
 
 Yet flows a stream, the camp of Israel near. 
 
 Whose crystal waters to the eye display 
 
 God^s instrument to him who in God^s way 
 
 Meets this Philistine, not with sword or spear : 
 
 That men may learn to make His name their tower. 
 
 Who, by the faith which magnifies His fear. 
 
 Can smite the sin which scorns his righteous power. 
 
22 SONNETS. 
 
 DISCIPLESHIP. 
 
 " All these have left me ; earth hides not its good, 
 
 Its gifts demand not faith, as those above, 
 
 Its words are easy to be understood, 
 
 Men cannot wait the end of suffering love. 
 
 Can ye do more than they ? Has certain loss, 
 
 In your esteem, some germ of richer gain ? 
 
 Or will you choose earth's crown, and leave my 
 
 cross — 
 Turn to its solace from your Master's pain ? " 
 
 " Lord," one replies, '^ if we should go from Thee, 
 JVhose words shall make the path, which all must 
 
 tread. 
 Of sorrow happy, and the spirit free ? 
 Whose pledge of life shall banish mortal dread ? 
 When Thou art far, who shall in love draw near, 
 And to the heart speak all it longs to hear V 
 
SONNETS. 33 
 
 SONSHIP. 
 
 They say yon stars^ whose scarce distinguished light 
 
 Is fancy-faint to our bewilder'd sight, 
 
 Are central suns_, filling with potent beams 
 
 Regions unmeasured. So, through time's dark night, 
 
 A little thing the rumourM glory seems 
 
 Of those who dwell in resurrection day; 
 
 Dim is their light, alas ! and far away, 
 
 And of them no man righteous judgment deems. 
 
 Yet, where th' unwearied watch earth^s fever'd dreams, 
 
 Nearer than any to the throne are they 
 
 Of equity divine : their portion His — 
 
 Beyond the subtle workings of decay — 
 
 Who brightness of the Father's glory is ; 
 
 Whom all things were created to obey. 
 
24- SONNETS. 
 
 PEACE. 
 
 The following lines were suggested by the plan, recently adopted in 
 France and Germany, of furnishing all the principal fortresses of those 
 countries with a supply of carrier-pigeons, for purposes of war. 1874. 
 
 Sweet dove^ to whose quick eye the earth redeemM 
 
 Of oldj its fresh^ glad Hfe did first display; 
 
 On whose white wing the solitary ray, 
 
 That lit thee home, with lingering lustre gleam'd ; 
 
 In these last ages — best of all esteemM — 
 
 How wicked men have made thee miss thy way ; 
 
 Thy fond home-instinct for nought better deemM 
 
 Than to facilitate their bloody fray ! 
 
 Sore is creation's travail for that day 
 
 When He, who once thy meek resemblance bore. 
 
 Shall to His children peace and love restore; 
 
 Nor love this chief behest alone obey. 
 
 But, from those scenes mock'd by thy blood-stain'd 
 
 wing. 
 Glad signs of universal concord bring. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 
 
 THE THIRD TEMPTATION (Matt, iv.) 
 
 jGAINj upon a mountain summit high, 
 Together stood, irreconcilable. 
 Pride's restless and imperious majesty. 
 And, open-brow'd, the Son of God and man ; 
 All earth's dominions spread beneath their feet. 
 And now, to consummate in one dread hour 
 Ruin complete and beyond remedy, 
 " Wilt thou,'' he said, who wore the crown of guile, 
 " For these, with all their glory, worship me ? " 
 What said the Son to him who thus would scale 
 Th' imagined height of sin and hate supreme 
 Above the majesty of right and love. 
 Incarnate to do all the will of God ? 
 He only fix'd on him the eyes which wept 
 
26 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 
 
 For dear Jerusalem, his deadly foe, 
 And, '' O mine enemy, depart," He said ; 
 " For it is written. Thou shalt worship God, 
 And serve Him only." 
 
 Having this endured. 
 In meekness He pursued th' untrodden way 
 Of pure obedience to death; the joy 
 Contemplating afar of heaven and earth 
 Made new_, His rich unmarrM inheritance, 
 Who that dire insult bore : as when the sun 
 Chases away all noxious damps and dread 
 Of treacherous night, and everything beneath. 
 From the clear dew-drop on the emerald plain 
 To the wide splendour of the sparkling sea. 
 Hails his return, and owns his kingly sway. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. %"] 
 
 CONFLICT. 
 
 Saviour of sinners, Lord of saints, 
 Beneath two loads my spirit faints ; 
 I do the evil I would shun, 
 The service due is left undone. 
 
 O Jesus, save ! O Christ, subdue ! 
 The old is weaker than the new. 
 When Thou dost grasp my hand of faith ; 
 Thy death my life. Thy life my death. 
 
 Thy Spirit is the missing key ; 
 One door He shuts, one opes to me. 
 And He makes good the twofold claim, 
 Part mine, part Thine, of Thy great Name. 
 
28 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 
 
 A CHRISTIAN. 
 
 God had been with him, though he knew it not. 
 
 In the hush of eventide, 
 When his body had rest from its daily toil^ 
 
 And the din of the world had died. 
 
 He only knew that exceeding still 
 
 Grew that world about his soul ; 
 That a sense of being, unfelt till then. 
 
 On its solemn silence stole. 
 
 Then life lookM new when the morning broke — 
 
 Past, Present and Future new ; 
 For the things were false that seemed true before, 
 
 And those that seemM false were true. 
 
 In his lofty soul there dwelt a peace 
 
 Apart from life's common ills. 
 As waters that stand in some hollow dark 
 
 Of the everlasting hills. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS PIECES, 29 
 
 And he pass'd among men as rivers pass 
 
 Through a parchM and thirsty soil, 
 Till life and gladness sprung up like flowers 
 
 In the place of sorrow and toil. 
 
 They said he was ont^ of a patient few 
 
 Who follow the Christ of God 
 In that lowly path through this world of woe 
 
 Which His blessed footsteps trod. 
 
30 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 
 
 PILGRIMAGE. 
 
 Lightened with an inward light, 
 Still we go, by day and night. 
 Onward through the things of sight. 
 
 In this way, which men deride, 
 Was the One ne^er turnM aside 
 Crucified and glorified. 
 
 Lifers vicissitudes and pains 
 All shall have their suited gains 
 In the kingdom where He reigns. 
 
 In the midst of Paradise 
 
 Grows a tree whose fruit supplies 
 
 Conscious bliss that never dies ; 
 
 And the loving ones who do, 
 Not the favour^ ones who knoWy 
 Heav'n^s pearl gates shall enter through ; 
 
MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 3I 
 
 Where no evil can intrude. 
 By the Lord of life endued 
 With complete beatitude. 
 
 This the rest our spirits crave, 
 This the spoiling of the grave, 
 This the Love so strong to save. 
 
 t^(^(^fe}^)^ 
 
32 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 
 
 PROVIDENCE. 
 
 Two marvels hold imperial place 
 
 In yonder infinite expanse ; 
 Like which^ the mystery of grace^ 
 
 And that less marvel some call chance. 
 
 Only an eagle eye can scan 
 
 The glory of the greater light ; 
 The other_, every eye of man 
 
 Can vvatchj that v^dll^ through earth^s dark night. 
 
 Yet small his v^ealth who only knows 
 
 The gifts half seen through nature's dreams : 
 
 Dew-diamonds on a witherM rose, 
 All stolen by the morning's beams. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 
 
 SUBMISSION. 
 
 33 
 
 What Thou hast willM is best, 
 My Lord, my God, before the worlds were made: 
 Only in part to me are now displayM 
 
 The counsels of Thy breast. 
 
 Often the bitter part. 
 The labour that shall end in sweet repose, 
 Joseph's rough speech while yearning to disclose 
 
 The fulness of his heart. 
 
 I bear because ^tis Thou ; 
 As a sick child resists all others' craft, 
 But, seeing in its mother's hand the draught, 
 
 Says, '' I will take it now ! " 
 
 Thou armest. Lord, with strength. 
 Thy children, even joyfully to bear 
 Those chast'nings whereby they are made to share 
 
 Thy holiness at length.* 
 
 * Heb. xii. lo. 
 
34 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 
 
 RETURN UNTO THY REST/^ 
 
 How weary was my soul, 
 By grief and care oppressM, 
 Subject to sin^s control, 
 When came that voice so blessM, 
 " Return unto thy rest." 
 
 ^' Then there is rest for me ? ^^ 
 My troubled heart replied : 
 The voice said, ^' Come and see ^^ : 
 I came unto the side 
 Of Jesus crucified. 
 
 Perfect was the repose 
 Beneath His smile on me, 
 Who all my sins and woes 
 Had borne upon the tree, 
 That I might thus be free. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. ^^ 
 
 Brother, in search of rest — 
 Search sorrowful and vain, 
 Come, too, a welcome guest. 
 Count all things loss to gain 
 Him who for thee was slain. 
 
 For nothing else can give. 
 Even while earth's hopes are high. 
 True pleasure while you live. 
 Still less when, all pass'd by. 
 You're left alone to die. 
 
 Come, pillow your sad brow 
 Upon His loving breast ; 
 Unhesitating, now. 
 Attend that voice so bless'd, 
 " Return unto thy rest.'' 
 
36 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 
 
 THE MIRAGE. 
 
 The busy hum of Oriental mart_, 
 
 That Still, a dream-like sound^ when far away, 
 
 Fails and is heard again, 
 
 Like echoes born of echoes in the mountains. 
 
 Faint and more faint, at length was heard no more 
 On the bare confines of the trackless waste 
 Which, like a sea of sand 
 In waveless calm, earth^s multitudes divided. 
 
 The swarthy Islamite with sullen brow. 
 
 Lord of this land through which hejourneyM lone. 
 
 From morn to night surveyM 
 
 Th' unchanging aspect of his void dominion ; 
 
 From morn to night through many a year-long day 
 
 Of utter solitude, till thought refused 
 
 To wait on sense severe. 
 
 And all the space with forms fantastic peopled. . 
 
MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 2i1 
 
 Again, in courtyard of the gilded mosque, 
 Abstracted worshippers spread forth their palms. 
 Or touched with one accord 
 The marble pavement with their dusky foreheads. 
 
 Again, through narrow streets flowed on the stream 
 Of drowsy life, and merchants strewM their wares. 
 Heedless of passers by. 
 In rich profusion under frescoM arches. 
 
 Till, stricken suddenly by death^s keen shaft. 
 His dumb companion sank beneath its load. 
 From pleasures of the past 
 Wakening the dreamer to a dreaded future. 
 
 Onward he sped, nor other living thing. 
 
 In the broad plain and boundless fields of air. 
 
 Saw, save the vulture's flight, 
 
 High overhead his joyless way that traversed. 
 
 Onward unflagging through night^s sultry gloom 
 Till day^s return, more fear'd than fell decree 
 Of tyrant by his slave. 
 Then wishM, in his despair, he too had perishM. 
 
38 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 
 
 But wherefore die ? for lo ! upon the verge 
 Of prospect, suddenly a sight appears — 
 His eye hath never seen, 
 His fancy never hath conceived a fairer : 
 
 Deep as the azure heaven, a cool expanse 
 Of rippled lake that, to the nearer shore 
 Rolling its thin blue wave, 
 Woos the faint traveller to its blissful borders. 
 
 Of this all happy sights and sounds were born. 
 Dear to reviving hope, to memory dear. 
 Light as the snow-saiPd barque 
 That dipped and rose upon its tranquil bosom. 
 
 The plunie-crown'd pillars of slender palm he saw 
 That markM the dwellings of his tribe, and heard 
 Once more, beneath their shade, 
 The musical clamour of his children's voices. 
 
 "Would thou wert nearer,'^ spake he, as he strove 
 Sternly with death to reach life's bounteous goal ; 
 In every pulse an age 
 Of oy unspoken, or unspoken anguish. 
 
miscp:llaneous pieces. 39 
 
 " Would thou wert nearer, or a sight less fair, 
 
 O urgent promise of too rich a prize ; 
 
 Or fate, unmoved and dumb, 
 
 Were like a man, with heart to bleed and pity ! '' 
 
 More had he utter'd of the souFs distress 
 For lack of joy whose fulness waits so near, 
 When, moving westward, blew 
 A wav'ring breeze across those magic waters : 
 
 Nor rose their surface, as the yielding tide 
 Of other waters, but afar withdrew ; 
 Then hung in middle space 
 Awhile, and vanishM like an airy vision. 
 
 While underneath lay stretchM the arid plain. 
 By no cool stream refreshed, no verdure crownM ; 
 Farther than eye could reach 
 Nought but the barren and the burning desert. 
 
 With one great cry, his arms to heaven he raised. 
 Then staggerM through the sickly heat and glare 
 Now closing on his sense 
 In sudden and impenetrable darkness. 
 
40 . MISCELLANEOUS PIECP:S. 
 
 Kre yet th' increasing bulks of Arab train 
 Blotted the margin of the pale horizon, 
 The wand^'ers whitenM bones 
 WhirPd in the dust-cloud of the mad sirocco. 
 
 And vain as this, the wise in heart have said. 
 All mortal hope in earth's illusions fair. 
 Imaging like a dream 
 The bliss of him whose yearnings are immortal. 
 
 Lest, void of counsel in the desert way. 
 Any should share his fate, to death beguiled. 
 Whose waking cry none hears 
 When his destruction cometh as a whirlwind. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 
 
 THE CASCADE. 
 
 Under the dark^iing bridge it ran 
 Into the sunshine swift and bright, 
 And there its fairy sport began, 
 Leaping from off the giddy height : 
 Young primroses, to see the sight, 
 LookM up in pretty groups and smiled. 
 And the wild woodland^s favorite child. 
 The delicate anemone, 
 Its perilous descent to see. 
 Grew pale and trembled with affright. 
 
 It sparkled in the May-morn sun. 
 Shooting its silver arrows round ; 
 A marvel manifold, yet one 
 In harmony of sight and sound : 
 O'er many a devious ledge it wound 
 Its moss-paved path and crooked fall. 
 Admired and wonderM at by all : 
 No overshadowing turf, to gain 
 A lightning kiss, hung o'er in vain 
 Betwixt the bridge and level ground. 
 
42 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 
 
 It rested for an instant there^ 
 
 CheckM by its own light hardihood^ 
 
 Then saunterM downward with more care 
 
 Through the green mazes of the wood^, 
 
 Like one in search of soHtude. 
 
 Two squirrels^ frisking round a tree, 
 
 Startled the ring-dove's reverie : 
 
 Were fable true, in this retreat^ 
 
 Soft sounds of Naiads' tiny feet 
 
 Might fall_, or wood-nymph's whispers brood. 
 
 But now, as one to real things 
 Led forth from childhood's imagery, 
 Its tribute to the stream it brings 
 Which broadens in the valley nigh : 
 Till, passing all the landscape by 
 Into the world of waters vast, 
 It is as one who knows at last 
 Existence without mortal bounds, 
 EncompassM by the sights and sounds 
 And musings of eternity. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 43 
 
 GRATITUDE. 
 
 Some men in heart are like those hills 
 Where echoes of a cheerful strain, 
 
 Whose sweetness all the valley fills. 
 Steal on the senses back again ; 
 
 And some like lakes in moorlands bare. 
 Where many a pearly shower of grace, 
 
 Which makes the meadows glad and fair, 
 MixM with their waters, leaves no trace. 
 
 The rain must fall though it be lost. 
 And love be kind to every mood. 
 
 But Oh, I care not what it cost — 
 The smile of speechless gratitude. 
 
44 MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 
 
 MNEMOSYNE. 
 
 Thou reignest in a land whose flowers 
 Are fragrant^ though their bloom is fled ; 
 Thou rulest o'er the quiet dead. 
 Sad queen of half this world of ours. 
 
 That half which, moving slowly round. 
 Has passM from underneath the sun, 
 Where purposed deeds shall ne'er be done. 
 Where what is lost shall ne'er be found. 
 
 And o'er thy mute dominion glow 
 Ten thousand stars that catch their ray 
 From vanish'd light of summer day. 
 Withdrawn immensely from below. 
 
 While, standing on the border line 
 O'er which their best beloved have gone, 
 Men wish they never had been born 
 To pleasures which so soon are thine. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 45 
 
 Ohj sin ! for man to stand and weep 
 That life immortal is his share, 
 Because some dream, however fair, 
 Has faded when he wakes from sleep. 
 
 If to the years which still remain. 
 From those thou hast, his face he turn. 
 Within their span he yet may learn 
 One secret of his loss and gain. 
 
 Till fate and feud no more divide 
 
 The realms by Hope and Memory sway'd. 
 
 And Life, revisiting the dead. 
 
 Shall take thee for his chosen bride. 
 
4^ MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 
 
 THE CROSS. 
 
 It stood in view of earth^s highway — 
 God^s right, man^s deadly wrong : 
 
 Some, seeing, turnM aside to pray, 
 ScornM by the proud, vain throng. 
 
 The might of patience slumberM still, 
 
 As rollM the ages by; 
 Yet that dread cross shall make one will 
 
 Between the earth and sky. 
 
 And, at His word who bore its shame. 
 
 The seventh trumpet blown. 
 Shall conquest through the earth proclaim 
 
 O'er Mammon's ruin'd throne. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 47 
 
 ALPHA AND OMEGA. 
 
 When the first light of morning breaks 
 
 The spell by night's enchantment wrought, 
 
 Thou, by whose light the spirit wakes, 
 Be then the Alpha of my thought ; 
 
 And when the day's extinguished fire 
 Leaves dark the chambers of the west. 
 
 Its Omega of calm desire. 
 
 Its finished labour's crown of rest. 
 
 Blest is that life whereof in Time 
 Thou art, O Christ, the secret birth. 
 
 Its joyous and unchanging prime 
 In the new heavens and new earth. 
 
 The least whom Thou hast formM from dust 
 Glorious among Thy saints shall rise. 
 
 In Thee the pearl of whose pure trust. 
 As in its native ocean, lies. 
 
4^ MISCELLANEOUS PIECES. 
 
 "HE COMES/' 
 
 He comes ! the starry firmament 
 
 Soon — for the night is now far spent — 
 Shall be with dazzling glory rent ; 
 He comes ! 
 
 He comes ! — A Christless self who please, 
 
 Who live and worship at their ease, 
 His wrath shall slay upon their knees ; 
 He comes ! 
 
 He comes ! — Dear bride of the great King, 
 
 Prepare with heart and voice to sing 
 Your welcome to Him on the wing ; 
 He comes ! 
 
 He comes ! — earth, earth, earth attend ; 
 
 The Son of man, thy murder'd friend, 
 On thee in judgment must descend, 
 He comes !