"Tis not within the force of Fate The fate-conjoined to separate. But thou, my votary, weepest thou? I gave thee sight, where is it now? I taught thy heart beyond the reach Of ritual, bible, or of speech; As far as the incommunicable; And past the blasphemy of grief, The mysteries of nature's heart,— And though no muse can these impart, Throb thine with nature's throbbing breast, And all is clear from east to west. I came to thee as to a friend, Dearest, to thee I did not send Tutors, but a joyful eye, Innocence that matched the sky, And, as the great all-loving Day Through smallest chambers takes its way, That thou might'st cherish for thine own And thoughtest thou such guest And know, my higher gifts unbind The zone that girds the incarnate mind, When the scanty shores are full With Thought's perilous whirling pool, When frail Nature can no more,— Then the spirit strikes the hour, My servant Death with solving rite Pours finite into infinite. Wilt thou freeze love's tidal flow, Whose streams through nature circling go? Nail the star struggling to its track On the half-climbed Zodiack? Light is light which radiates, Blood is blood which circulates, And many-seeming life is one, Wilt thou transfix and make it none, In figure, bone, and lineament? Wilt thou uncalled interrogate Talker the unreplying fate? Nor see the Genius of the whole Fairer that expansive reason Whose omen 'tis, and sign. Wilt thou not ope this heart to know What rainbows teach and sunsets show, Verdict which accumulates From lengthened scroll of human fates, Voice of earth to earth returned, Prayers of hearts that inly burned; Saying, what is excellent, As God lives, is permanent, Hearts are dust, hearts' loves remain, Heart's love will meet thee again. Kevere the Maker; fetch thine eye Up to his style, and manners of the sky. Not of adamant and gold Built he heaven stark and cold, No, but a nest of bending reeds, Through ruined systems still restored, Waters with tears of ancient sorrow Apples of Eden ripe to-morrow; Lost in God, in Godhead found. HYMN. SUNG AT THE COMPLETION OF CONCORD MONUMENT, APRIL 19, 1836. By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood, And fired the shot heard round the world. The foe long since in silence slept, Alike the Conqueror silent sleeps, And Time the ruined bridge has swept Down the dark stream which seaward creeps. On this green bank, by this soft stream, We set to-day a votive stone, That memory may their deed redeem, When like our sires our sons are gone. Spirit! who made those freemen dare The shaft we raise to them and Thee. |