Legends and Lyrics - Volume I Part 17
Library

Volume I Part 17

VERSE: THE TWO SPIRITS (1855)

Last night, when weary silence fell on all, And starless skies arose so dim and vast, I heard the Spirit of the Present call Upon the sleeping Spirit of the Past.

Far off and near, I saw their radiance shine, And listened while they spoke of deeds divine.

The Spirit of the Past.

My deeds are writ in iron; My glory stands alone; A veil of shadowy honour Upon my tombs is thrown; The great names of my heroes Like gems in history lie; To live they deemed ign.o.ble, Had they the chance to die!

The Spirit of the Present.

My children, too, are honoured; Dear shall their memory be To the proud lands that own them; Dearer than thine to thee; For, though they hold that sacred Is G.o.d's great gift of life, At the first call of duty They rush into the strife!

The Spirit of the Past.

Then, with all valiant precepts Woman's soft heart was fraught; "Death, not dishonour," echoed The war-cry she had taught.

Fearless and glad, those mothers, At b.l.o.o.d.y deaths elate, Cried out they bore their children Only for such a fate!

The Spirit of the Present.

Though such stern laws of honour Are faded now away, Yet many a mourning mother, With n.o.bler grief than they, Bows down in sad submission: The heroes of the fight Learnt at her knee the lesson, "For G.o.d and for the Right!"

The Spirit of the Past.

No voice there spake of sorrow: They saw the n.o.blest fall With no repining murmur; Stern Fate was lord of all.

And when the loved ones perished, One cry alone arose, Waking the startled echoes, "Vengeance upon our foes!"

The Spirit of the Present.

Grief dwells in France and England For many a n.o.ble son; Yet louder than the sorrow, "Thy will, Oh G.o.d, be done!"

From desolate homes is rising One prayer, "Let carnage cease!

On friends and foes have mercy, Oh Lord, and give us peace!"

The Spirit of the Past.

Then, every hearth was honoured That sent its children forth, To spread their country's glory, And gain her south or north.

Then, little recked they numbers, No band would ever fly, But stern and resolute they stood To conquer or to die.

The Spirit of the Present.

And now from France and England Their dearest and their best Go forth to succour freedom, To help the much oppressed; Now, let the far-off Future And Past bow down to-day, Before the few young hearts that hold Whole armaments at bay.

The Spirit of the Past.

Then, each one strove for honour, Each for a deathless name; Love, home, rest, joy, were offered As sacrifice to Fame.

They longed that in far ages Their deeds might still be told, And distant times and nations Their names in honour hold.

The Spirit of the Present.

Though nursed by such old legends, Our heroes of to-day Go cheerfully to battle As children go to play; They gaze with awe and wonder On your great names of pride, Unconscious that their own will shine In glory side by side!

Day dawned; and as the Spirits pa.s.sed away, Methought I saw, in the dim morning grey, The Past's bright diadem had paled before The starry crown the glorious Present wore.

VERSE: A LITTLE LONGER

A little longer yet--a little longer, Shall violets bloom for thee, and sweet birds sing; And the lime branches where soft winds are blowing, Shall murmur the sweet promise of the Spring!

A little longer yet--a little longer, Thou shalt behold the quiet of the morn; While tender gra.s.ses and awakening flowers Send up a golden mist to greet the dawn!

A little longer yet--a little longer, The tenderness of twilight shall be thine, The rosy clouds that float o'er dying daylight, Nor fade till trembling stars begin to shine.

A little longer yet--a little longer, Shall starry night be beautiful for thee; And the cold moon shall look through the blue silence, Flooding her silver path upon the sea.

A little longer yet--a little longer, Life shall be thine; life with its power to will; Life with its strength to bear, to love, to conquer, Bringing its thousand joys thy heart to fill.

A little longer yet--a little longer, The voices thou hast loved shall charm thine ear; And thy true heart, that now beats quick to hear them, A little longer yet shall hold them dear.

A little longer yet--joy while thou mayest; Love and rejoice! for time has nought in store; And soon the darkness of the grave shall bid thee Love and rejoice and feel and know no more.

A little longer still--Patience, Beloved: A little longer still, ere Heaven unroll The Glory, and the Brightness, and the Wonder, Eternal, and divine, that waits thy Soul!

A little longer ere Life true, immortal, (Not this our shadowy Life,) will be thine own; And thou shalt stand where winged Archangels worship, And trembling bow before the Great White Throne.

A little longer still, and Heaven awaits thee, And fills thy spirit with a great delight; Then our pale joys will seem a dream forgotten, Our Sun a darkness, and our Day a Night.

A little longer, and thy Heart, Beloved, Shall beat for ever with a Love divine; And joy so pure, so mighty, so eternal, No creature knows and lives, will then be thine.

A little longer yet--and angel voices Shall ring in heavenly chant upon thine ear; Angels and Saints await thee, and G.o.d needs thee: Beloved, can we bid thee linger here!

VERSE: GRIEF

An ancient enemy have I, And either he or I must die; For he never leaveth me, Never gives my soul relief, Never lets my sorrow cease, Never gives my spirit peace-- For mine enemy is Grief!

Pale he is, and sad and stern; And whene'er he cometh nigh, Blue and dim the torches burn, Pale and shrunk the roses turn; While my heart that he has pierced Many a time with fiery lance, Beats and trembles at his glance: Clad in burning steel is he, All my strength he can defy; For he never leaveth me-- And one of us must die!

I have said, "Let ancient sages Charm me from my thoughts of pain!"

So I read their deepest pages, And I strove to think--in vain!

Wisdom's cold calm words I tried, But he was seated by my side:- Learning I have won in vain; She cannot rid me of my pain.