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In tracts of fluent heat began,
And grew to seeming-random forms,
Till at the last arose the man ;
Who throve and branched from clime to clime, The herald of a higher race,
And of himself in higher place,
If so he type this work of time
Within himself, from more to more;
And, crowned with attributes of woe Like glories, move his course, and show That life is not as idle ore,
But iron dug from central gloom,
And heated hot with burning fears And dipped in baths of hissing tears, And battered with the shocks of doom
To shape and use.
Arise and fly
The reeling Faun, the sensual feast; Move upward, working out the beast, And let the ape and tiger die.
DOORS, where my heart was used to beat
I come once more; the city sleeps;
I hear a chirp of birds; I see
Betwixt the black fronts long withdrawn
And think of early days and thee,
And bless thee, for thy lips are bland,
And bright the friendship of thine eye;
I take the pressure of thine hand.
I TRUST I have not wasted breath:
Like Paul with beasts, I fought with Death;
Not only cunning casts in clay :
Let Science prove we are, and then
At least to me? I would not stay.
Let him, the wiser man who springs
SAD Hesper o'er the buried sun,
And dimmer, and a glory done :
The team is loosened from the wain,
The boat is drawn upon the shore; Thou listenest to the closing door, And life is darkened in the brain.
Bright Phosphor, fresher for the night,
By thee the world's great work is heard Beginning, and the wakeful bird; Behind thee comes the greater light:
The market-boat is on the stream,
And voices hail it from the brink;
And seest the moving of the team.
Sweet Hesper-Phosphor, double name
O, WAST thou with me, dearest, then,
To feel once more, in placid awe,
If thou wert with me, and the grave
Be quickened with a livelier breath,
And all the breeze of Fancy blows,
And every dew-drop paints a bow; The wizard lightnings deeply glow, And every thought breaks out a rose.
THERE rolls the deep where grew the tree.
There where the long street roars, hath been The stillness of the central sea.
The hills are shadows, and they flow
From form to form, and nothing stands; They melt like mist, the solid lands, Like clouds they shape themselves and go.
But in my spirit will I dwell,
And dream my dream, and hold it true; For though my lips may breathe adieu, I cannot think the thing farewell.
THAT which we dare invoke to bless;
found Him not in world or sun,
Or eagle's wing, or insect's eye; Nor through the questions men may try, The petty cobwebs we have spun :
If e'er when faith had fallen asleep,
I heard a voice, "Believe no more,"
A warmth within the breast would melt
No, like a child in doubt and fear :
But that blind clamor made me wise;
But, crying, knows his father near;
And what I seem beheld again
What is, and no man understands; And out of darkness came the hands That reach through nature, moulding men.
WHATEVER I have said or sung,
Some bitter notes my harp would give, Yea, though there often seemed to live A contradiction on the tongue,
Yet Hope had never lost her youth ;
She did but look through dimmer eyes; Or Love but played with gracious lies, Because he felt so fixed in truth:
And if the song were full of care,
He breathed the spirit of the song;
Abiding with me till I sail
To seek thee on the mystic deeps,
A thousand pulses dancing, fail.
LOVE is and was my Lord and King,
To hear the tidings of my friend,
Love is and was my King and Lord,
And will be, though as yet I keep Within his court on earth, and sleep Encompassed by his faithful guard,
And hear at times a sentinel
Who moves about from place to place,
In the deep night, that all is well.