And suddenly, across the gloom,
The naked moonlight sharply swings;
A Presence stirs within the room,
A breath of flowers and hovering wings:--
Your presence without form and void,
Beyond all earthly joys enjoyed.
My heart is hushed, my tongue is mute,
My life is centred in your will;
You play upon me like a lute
Which answers to its master's skill,
Till passionately vibrating,
Each nerve becomes a throbbing string.
Oh, incommunicably sweet!
No longer aching and apart,
As rain upon the tender wheat,
You pour upon my thirsty heart;
As scent is bound up in the rose,
Your love within my bosom glows.
MATHILDE BLIND.
* * * * *
THE CALL.
Come, my way, my truth, my life--
Such a way as gives us breath;
Such a truth as ends all strife;
Such a life as killeth death.
Come my light, my feast, my strength--
Such a light as shows a feast;
Such a feast as mends in length;
Such a strength as makes His guest.
Come my joy, my love, my heart!
Such a joy as none can move;
Such a love as none can part;
Such a heart as joys in love.
GEORGE HERBERT.
* * * * *
HOPE.
FROM "THE PLEASURES OF HOPE."[A]
Unfading Hope! when life's last embers burn,
When soul to soul, and dust to dust return!
Heaven to thy charge resigns the awful hour!
O, then thy kingdom comes! Immortal Power!
What though each spark of earth-born rapture fly
The quivering lip, pale cheek, and closing eye!
Bright to the soul thy seraph hands convey
The morning dream of life's eternal day,--
Then, then, the triumph and the trance begin,
And all the phoenix spirit burns within!
* * * * *
Daughter of Faith, awake, arise, illume
The dread unknown, the chaos of the tomb;
Melt, and dispel, ye spectre-doubts, that roll
Cimmerian darkness o'er the parting soul!
Fly, like the moon-eyed herald of Dismay,
Chased on his night-steed by the star of day!
The strife is o'er,--the pangs of Nature close,
And life's last rapture triumphs o'er her woes.
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