It is not always so: sometimes the earth
And earthly friends, can satisfy my heart.
But now--to-night--I feel their shallow worth,
And feel, Oh, Christ my Saviour, that Thou art
And Thou alone, the only faithful friend
Who knowing all my sins, and seeing me
Just as I am, will pity to the end
And in compassion, judge me tenderly.
I am so weak, and sinful--every day
The sins and failings that I most condemn,
And most abhor in others--I straightway
Go forth, and wickedly walk into them.
But Christ, who was in mortal form one time
And dwelt upon the earth, will understand.
And through a love and pity most sublime,
Will write me out a pardon with His hand.
1869
[FAME]
If I should die, to-day.
To-morrow, maybe, the world would see--
Would waken from sleep, and say,
"Why here was talent! why here was worth!
Why here was a luminous light o' the earth.
A soul as free
As the winds of the sea:
To whom was given
A dower of heaven.
And fame, and name, and glory belongs
To this dead singer of living songs.
Bring hither a wreath, for the bride of death!"
And so, they would praise me, and so they would raise me
Mayhap, a column, high over the bed
Where I should be lying, all cold and dead.
But I am a living poet!
Walking abroad in the sunlight of God,
Not lying asleep, where the clay worms creep,
And the cold world will not show it,
E'en when it sees that my song should please;
But sneering says: "Avaunt, with thy lays!
Do not sing them, and do not bring them
Into this rustling, bustling life.
We have no time, for a jingling rhyme,
In this scene of hurrying, worrying strife."
And so, I say, there is but one way
To win me a name, and bring me fame.
And that is, to die, and be buried low,
When the world would praise me, an hour or so.
1870
[HER MOTHER'S BEAUTIFUL EYES]
I met a young girl on the street;
I was a stranger to her, no more.
But the glance of her brown eyes, shy and sweet,
Set me to dreaming of days of yore.
Ah! she does not know, but long ago
When life was as cloudless as June's blue skies,
Her mother was all the world to me;
And she
Has her mother's beautiful eyes.
She lifted her lashes, and let them fall;
Raised them and dropped them as I passed by.
A grizzled old stranger, that was all
She saw, for she could not know that I
In the dear, dear past
Too sweet to last
Had found my Eden, my paradise.
In her mother's beautiful eyes.