And doth not Time’s changing phantasma
Still move at Thy sovereign control,
As when in Earth’s cherishing plasma
Was planted the germ of the soul?
Then lead me, for O, I am lonely!
And love me, for I am Thine own—
Yes, Great One and True One! Thine only—
And with Thee am never alone.
O God of the Eagle and Lion!
Thy strength to my being impart;
Not for wings, nor for sinews of iron
I ask—but Thy life in my heart.
THE SPIRIT-MOTHER.
Through our lives’ mysterious changes,
Through the sorrow-haunted years,
Runs a law of Compensation
For our sufferings and our tears.
And the soul that reasons rightly,
All its sad complaining stills,
Till it learns that meek submission,
Where it wishes not nor wills.
Thus, in Sorrow’s fiery furnace
Was a faithful mother tried,
Till, through Love’s divinest uses,
All her soul was purified.
O ye sorrow-stricken mothers!
Ye whose weakness feeds your pain!
Listen to her simple story—
Listen! and be strong again.
“It was sunset—and the day-dream
Of my life was almost o’er;
For my spirit-bark was drifting
Slowly, slowly from the shore.
Dimly could I see the sunlight
Through my vine-wreathed window shine,
Faintly could I feel the pressure
Of a strong hand clasping mine.
“But anew the life-tide started,
At my infant’s feeble cry;
Back my spirit turned in anguish,
And I felt I could not die.
Deeper, darker fell the shadows,
Like the midnight’s sable pall,
And that infant cry grew fainter—
Fainter—fainter—that was all!
“Suddenly I heard sweet voices
Mingling in a tender strain—
All my mortal weakness left me,
All my anguish and my pain.
On my forehead fell the glory
Of the bright, celestial morn,
I was of the earth no longer,
For my spirit was re-born.
“Pure, sweet faces bent above me,
Tenderly they gazed and smiled,
And my Angel-Mother whispered,
‘Welcome, welcome home, my child!’
Then, in one melodious chorus,
Sang the radiant angel band,
‘Welcome! O thou weary pilgrim!
Welcome to the Spirit Land!’