YESTERDAY AND TO-DAY
But yesterday among us here, One with ourselves in hope and fear: Joying like us in little things, The sheen of gorgeous insect wings, The song of bird, the hum of bee, The white foam of the heaving sea.
But yesterday your simplest speech, Your lightest breath, our hearts could reach; Your very thoughts were ours. Our eyes Found in your own no mysteries. Your griefs, your joys, your prayers, we knew, The hopes that with your girlhood grew.
But yesterday we dared to say, “’Twere better you should walk this way Or that, dear child! Do thus or so; Older and wiser we, you know.” We gave you flowers and curled your hair, And brought new robes for you to wear.
To-day how far away thou art! In all thy life we have no part. Hast thou a want? We know it not; Utterly parted from our lot, The veriest stranger is to thee All those who loved thee best can be.
Deaf to our calls, our prayers, our cries, Thou dost not lift thy heavy eyes; Nor heed the tender words that flow From lips whose kisses thrilled thee so But yesterday! To-day in vain We wait for kisses back again.
To-day no awful mystery hid The dark and mazy past amid Is half so great as this that lies Beneath the lids of thy shut eyes, And in those frozen lips of stone, Impassive lips, that smile nor moan.
But yesterday with loving care We petted, praised thee, called thee fair; To-day, oppressed with awe, we stand Before that ring-unfettered hand, And scarcely dare to lift one tress In mute and reverent caress.
But yesterday with us. To-day Where thou art dwelling, who can say? In heaven? But where? Oh for some spell To make thy tongue this secret tell! To break the silence strange and deep, That thy sealed lips so closely keep!
LYRIC
FOR THE DEDICATION OF A MUSIC-HALL
No grand Cathedral’s vaulted space Where, through the “dim, religious light,” Gleam pictured saint and cross and crown, We consecrate with song to-night;
No stately temple lifting high Its dome against the starlit skies, Where lofty arch and glittering spire Like miracles of beauty rise.
Yet here beneath this humbler roof With reverent hearts and lips we come; Hail, music! Song and Beauty, hail! Henceforth be these poor walls your home.
Here speak to hearts that long have yearned Your presence and your spells to know; Here touch the lips athirst to drink Where your perennial fountains flow.
Here, where our glorious mountain-peaks Sublimely pierce the ether blue, Lift ye our souls, and bid them rise In aspirations grand and true!
O Music, Art, and Science, hail! We greet you now with glad acclaims; Ye bay-crowned ones! the listening air Waits to re-echo with your names;
Waits for your voices ringing clear Above this weary, work-day world; Waits till ye bid fair Truth arise, While Error from her throne is hurled!