They deemed, self-centred souls! that those great eyes
Which star the night, in amorous orbit turned
And, ever boldly bashful, sighed and burned
For one earth kiss, and stood within the skies
Eternally expectant. O most wise
In your great selves! that rude iconoclast
His stones of Truth among your dreamings cast,
And robbed your wisdom of its dear disguise.
He stood, a Sampson of Titanic force,
’Twixt men and God, and swiftly grasped and hurled
His bolts at callow thoughts of centuries,
And pivoted th’ unreckoned universe,
And marked the rhythmic orbit of a world,
And changed chaotic chords to harmonies!
(To remind him that the Genius of Ireland, nigh twenty centuries ago, taught the dull ears of the world the subtleties and charms of the rhyme of which he is now acknowledged master.)
Moulder of mighty measures and sublime;
Whose flower of song—how dead soe’er the ground—
Blossoms: whose feet, from no great depth profound,
By cloudy slopes to cloudier summits climb!
What though thou art, in this thy world-broad prime,
Great King of Song, sceptred and robed and crowned;
Be it not thine to scorn the narrow round
Whence broadened out the bounds of later time.
Not all the message of that far-off chime
The strident strains of this our day have drowned:
“Forget not, Singer, whence hath sprung thy rhyme,
Or whence thy tongue its lofty power hath found;
Nor squander all thy store in mocking mime,
Niggard of sense and prodigal of sound.”
In the beginning the Heaven and the Earth were wedded together, and then was the golden age of joy and beauty. But something occurred which destroyed the union, and the Heaven and the Earth were parted amid the tears of Nature, which men call the dew.—Legend Of South Sea Islands.
Truth in untruth; wisdom on Folly’s tongue,
And substance in a shadow!—Hear ye this:
Erewhile, ’mid transports of primeval bliss,
In starry ears a bridal song was sung,
And Heav’n and Earth, in mutual rapture, strung
Ethereal harps, and took one reeling kiss,
’Till, seated with much joy, Earth grew remiss:
But, love was rife, and, ah! the Earth was young.
O trembling tears of dawn in Nature’s eyes!
Forget your sadness. Lo! methinks the hour
When recreant Love turns loveward, thrills the dome;
Earth lifts mute praying hands in tree and flower,
And Heav’n, in all the windows of the skies,
Hangs nightly lamps to light the wand’rer home!