And where art thou going, soul of nine? And whither this troubled life of thine What daunts thee now ?-what shakes thee so? "I see a cloud like a curtain low Hang o'er my way. "Whither I go I cannot tell: High as the heaven and deep as hell, “I see its shadow coldly enwrap The souls before. Sadly they enter it, step by step, To return no more. "They shrink, they shudder, dear God! they kneel, To thee in prayer. They shut their eyes on the cloud, but feel "In vain they turn from the dread Before For while gazing behind them evermore "Yet, at times, I see upon sweet pale faces A light begin To tremble, as if from holy places And shrines within. "And at times methinks their cold lips move With hymn and prayer, As if somewhat of awe, but more of love And hope were there. "I call on the souls who have left the light To reveal their lot; I bend mine ear to that wall of night, But I hear around me sighs of pain And the cry of fear, And a sound like the slow sad dropping of rain, Each drop a tear! "Ah, the cloud is dark, and day by day, I must pass beneath it on my way- Ah, soul of mine! so brave and wise Now standing apart with God and me But never for this, never for this For the craven's fear is but selfishness, Folly and Fear are sisters twain : The other peopling the dark inane With spectral lies. Know well, my soul, God's hand controls Whate'er thou fearest; Round Him in calmest music rolls Whate'er thou hearest. What to thee is shadow, to Him is day, And not on a blind and aimless way Man sees no future-a phantom show Past Time is dead, and the grasses grow, Nothing before, nothing behind: Fall on the seeming void, and find The Present, the Present is all thou hast Like the patriarch's angel hold it fast Why fear the night? why shrink from Death, There is nothing in Heaven or earth beneath Save God and man. Peopling the shadows we turn from Him Like warp and woof all destinies Are woven fast, Linked in sympathy like the keys Pluck one thread, and the web ye mar; Of a thousand keys, and the paining jar Oh, restless spirit! wherefore strain Heaven and hell, with their joy and pain, Back to thyself is measured well Thy neighbor's wrong is thy present hell, And in life, in death, in dark and light, Sound the black abyss, pierce the deep of night, All which is real now remaineth, The hand which upholds it now, sustaineth The soul forever. Leaning on him, make with reverent meekness His own thy will, [ness And with strength from Him shall thy utter weak Life's task fulfil; And that cloud itself, which now before thee Shall with beams of light from the inner glory And like meadow mist through Autumn's dawi Its thickest folds when about thee drawn Let sunlight in. Then of what is to be, and of what is done, The past and the time to be are one, And both are Now ! TO A FRIEND, ON HER RETURN FROM EUROPE. How smiled the land of France Old walls of chateaux gray, Now midst the brilliant train Of the wild Alpine range, Vales, soft Elysian, Like those in the vision Of Mirza, when, dreaming, He saw the long hollow dell, Touched by the prophet's spell, With its isles teeming. Cliffs wrapped in snows of years, Autumn's blue heaven: Loose rock and frozen slide, Downward storm-driven.! |