Imágenes de páginas
PDF
EPUB

BY ROBERT T. CONRAD.

tains,

SONNETS ON THE LORD'S PRAYER Then, known no more the guile of gain, the leer

Of lewdness, frowning power, or pallid sear,

The shriek of suffering or the howl of crime !
I. Our Father.

All will be Thine--all best! Thy kingdom come! Our Father! Holiest name, first, fondest, best!

Then in Thy arms the sinless earth will rest, Sweet is the murmured music of the vow

As smiles the infant on its mother's breast. When young love's kiss first prints the maiden's The dripping bayonet and the kindling drum brow;

Unknown--for not a foe : the thong unknownBut sweeter, to a father's yearning breast

For not a slave : the cells, o'er which Despair His blue-eyed boy's soft prattle. This is love!

Flaps its black wing and fans the sigh-swoll'n air, Pure as the streamlets that distil through moun

Deserted ! Night will pass, and hear no groan!

Glad Day look down nor see nor guilt nor gnile; And drop, in diamonds, in their cavern'd fountains; And all that Thou hast made reflect Thy smile; Warm as our heart-drops; true as truth above. And is such Thine ? For whom? For all-ev'n me!

V. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Thou to whom all that is which sight can reach Thy will be done on earth as 't is in heaven! Is but a sand-grain on the ocean beach

That will which chords the music-moving spheres, Of being! Down my soul : it cannot be!

With harmonies unheard by mortal ears;
But he hath said! Up, soul, unto His throne ! And, losing which, our orb is jarred and riven.
Father, “our Father,” bless and save thine own! Ours a crush'd harp! Its strings by tempests shaken;

Swept by the hand of sin, its guilty tones
II. Who art in Heaven.

Startle the spheres with discord and with groans ; Who art in Heaven! Thou know'st nor mete nor By virtue, peace, hope-all but Thee-forsaken! bound.

Oh, be its chords restrung! Thy will be done! *Thy presence is existence. 'Neath thine eye, Mysterious law! Our griefs approve that will:

Systems spring forth, revolve, and shine—and die; For as shades haunt the night, grief follows ill ; Ev'n as, to us, within their little round,

And bliss tends virtue, as the day the sun. The bright sands in the eddying hill-side spring, Homage on earth, as 'tis on high, be given :

Sparkle and pass for ever down the stream. For when Thy will is done, then earth is heaven!

Slow-wheeling Saturn, of the misty beam, Circles but atoms with his mighty wing;

VI. Give us this day our daily bread. And bright-eyed Sirius, but a sentry, glows

Give us this day our daily bread! Thou art Upon the confines of infinity.

Lord of the harvest. Thou hast taught the song Where Thou art not, ev'n Nothing cannot be!

Sung by the rill the grassy vale along; Where Thy smile is, is Heaven ; where not-all And 't is Thy smile, when Summer's zephyrs start, woes,

That makes the wavy wheat a sea of gold ! Sin's chaos and its gloom. Grant thy smile be

Give me to share thy boon! No miser hoard My light of life, to guide me up to Thee!

I crave; no splendor ; no Apician board;

Freedom, and faith, and food—and all is told;
III. Hallowed be Thy name.

I ask no more. But spare my brethren! they Hallowéd be Thy name! In every clime,

Now beg, in vain, to toil; and cannot save 'Neath every sky! Or in this smiling land, Their wan-eyed lov'd ones, sinking to the grave. Where Vice, bold-brow'd, and Craft walk hand in Give them their daily bread! How many pray, hand,

Alas, in vain, for food! Be Famine fed;
And varnish'd Seeming gives a grace to Crime; And give us, Lord, this day, our daily bread!
Or in the howling wild, or on the plain,

Where Pagans tremble at their rough-hewn God; VII. Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those
Wherever voice hath spoke or foot hath trod;

who trespass against us. Sacred Thy name! The skeptic wild and vain;

Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive Rous'd from his rosy joys, the Osmanlite;

Those who against us trespass! Though we take The laughing Ethiop; and the dusk Hindoo :

Life, blessings, promis'd heaven, from Thee; we Thy sons of every creed, of every hue ;

make Praise Thee! Nor Earth alone. Each star of night, Life a long war 'gainst Him in whom we live! Join in the choir! till Heaven and Earth acclaim-- Pure once; now like the Cities of the Plain, Still, and for ever, Hallowed be Thy name !

A bitter sea of death and darkness rolls

Its heavy waves above our buried souls.
IV. Thy kingdom come.

Yet wilt Thou raise us to the light again,
Thy kingdom come! Speed, angel wings, that time ! Worms as we are, if we forgive the worm

FOREST WOOD

That grovels in our way.

How light the cost, And yet how hard the task! For we are lost In sin. Do thou my soul uphold and form! Bankrupt and lost to all but hope and Thee; Teach me to pardon; and oh, pardon me!

BY EBENEZER ELLIOTT.

Within the sun-lit forest,

Our roof the bright blue sky, Where fountains flow, and wild flowers blow,

We list our hearts on high : Beneath the frown of wicked men

Our couniry's strength is bowing ; But thanks to God! they can't prevent

The lone wild flowers from blowing!

VIII. And lead us not into temptation. Lead us not into temptation! The earth's best

Find, but in flight, their safety; and the wise

Shun, with considerate steps, its Basilisk eyes. Save us from Pleasure, with the heaving breast And unbound zone; from Flattery's honeyed tongue;

A varice, with golden palm and icy heart;

Ambition's marble smile and earthly art; The rosy cup where aspic death is hung ! Better the meal of pulse and bed of stone,

And the calmy safety of the Anchorite,

Than aught that life can give of wild and bright. Be thou my joy, my hope, my strength alone! Save from the tempter!

Should he woo to ill, Be thou my rock, my shield, my safety still !

High, high above the tree tops

The lark is soaring free; Where streams the light through broken clouds

His speckled breast I see.
Beneath the might of wicked men

The poor man's worth is dying;
But, thank'd be God! in spite of them,

The lark still warbles flying !

IX. But deliver us from evil.

The preacher says, “ Lord bless us !"

* Lord bless us !" echo cries ; " Amen!" the breezes murmur low,

- Amen!" the rill replies; The ceaseless toil of wo-worn hearts

The proud with pangs are paying; But here, oh God of earth and heaven!

The humble heart is praying:

Deliver us from evil! Hapless race !

Our life a shadow and our walk a dream;

Our gloom a fate, our joy a fitful gleam; Where is our hope but Thee! Oh give us grace To win thy favor! Save from loud-voic'd Wrong,

And creeping Craft! Save from the hate of foes;

The treachery of friends; the many woes, Which, to the clash of man with man belong! Save those I love from want, from sickness, pain!

And-spared that pang of pangs--oh let me die

Before, for them, a tear-drop fills my eye;
A nd dying, let me hope to meet again!
Oh, save me from myself! Make me and mine,
In life and spirit, ever, only Thine !

How softly in the pauses

Of song, re-echoed wide, The cushat's coo, the linnet's lay,

O'er rill and river glide. With evil deeds of men

The affrighted land is ringing; But still, oh Lord! the pious heart

And soul-toned voice are singing.

X. For Thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the

glory, for ever, Amen.

Hush! hush! the preacher preacheth,

« Wo to the oppressor, wo!"
But sudden gloom o'ercasts the sun,

And saddened flowers below:
So frowns the Lord! but tyrants, ye

Deride his indignation,
And see not, in his gathered brow,

Your day of tribulation !

Thine is the kingdom, power and glory! Thine

A kingdom, based on past eternity,
So vast, the pond'rous thought-could such thought

beWould crush the mind; a power that wills should

shine A million worlds; they shine-should die; they die:

A glory to which the sun is dim;

And from whose radiance e'en the saraphim, Heaven-born, must veil the brow and shade the eye! And these are Thine, Forever! Fearful word,

To us, the beings of a world of graves

And minutes! Yet Thy cov'nant promise saves : Our trust is in Thee, Father uviour, Lord ! Holy, thrice holy, Thou! Forever, then, Be kingdom, power and glory Thine!

Amen

Speak low, thou heaven-paid teacher!

The tempest bursts above;
God whispers in the thunder : hear

The terrors of his love !
On useful heads and honest hearts

The base their wrath are wreaking; But thank'd be God! they can't prevent

The storm of heaven from speaking

VOICES OF THE TRUE HEARTED.

No. 10.

THE HUMAN SACRIFICE.

BY JOHN G. WHITTIER.

Like some foul devil-altar there

Built up by demon hands at night.

And, maddened by that evil sight,
Dark, horrible, confused and strange,
A chaos of wild, weltering change,
All power of check and guidance gone,
Dizzy and blind, his mind swept on.
In vain he strove to breathe a prayer,

In vain he turned the holy book,
He only heard the Gallows-stair

Creak, as the wind its timbers shook. No dream for him of sin forgiven,

While still that baleful spectre stood,

With its hoarse murmur, - Blood for Blood !!! Between him and the pitying Heaven !

Some of the leading sectarian papers have lately published the letter of a clergyman, giving an account of his attendance upon a criminal, (who had committed murder during a fit of intoxication) at the time of his execution, in Western New York The writer describes the agony of the wretched being-his abortive attempts at prayer—his appeal for life—his horror of a violent death; and after declaring his belief that the poor victim died without hope of salvation, concludes with a warm enlogy upon the Gallows, being more than ever convinced of its utility, by the awful dread and horror which it inspired. Far from his close and noisome cell,

By grassy lane and sunny stream, Blown clover-field and strawberry dell, And green and meadow freshness, fell

The footsteps of his dream. Again from careless feet, the dew

Of summer's misty morn he shook : Again with merry heart he threw

His light line in the rippling brook.
Back crowded all his school-day joys“

He urged the ball and quoit again,
And heard the shout of lau boys

Come ringing down the walnut glen.
Again he felt the western breeze,

Its scent of flowers and crisping hay;
And down again through wind-stirred trees

He saw the quivering sun-light play.
An angel in Home's vine-hung door,
He saw his sister smile once more;
Once more the truant's brown-locked head
Upon his mother's knee was laid,
And sweetly lulled in slumber there,
With evening's holy hymn and prayer!
He woke. At once on heart and brain
The present terror rushed again-
Clanked on his limbs the felon's chain!
He woke to hear the church tower tell
Time's footfall on the conscious bell,
And, shuddering, feel that clanging din
His life's last hour had ushered in;
To see within his prison-yard,
Through the small-window, iron-barred,
The Gallow's shadow rising dim
Between the sunrise heaven and him,-

A horror in God's blessed air-
A blackness in his morning light-

Low on his dungeon floor he knelt,

And smote his breast; and on his chain, Whose demon clasp he always felt,

His hot tears fell like rain :
And near him, with the cold, calm look

And tone of one whose formal part,

Unwarmed, unsoftened of the heart,
Is measured out hy rule and book,
With placid look and tranquil blood,
The hangman's ghostly ally stood,
Blessiug with solemn text and word
The Gallows-drop and strangling cord :
Lending the Gospel's sacred awe
And sanction to the crime of Law.

He saw the victim's tortured brow

The sweat of anguish starting thereThe record of a nameless woe

In the dim eye's imploring stare,

Seen hideous thro’ the long, damp hairFingers of ghastly skin and bone Working and writhing on the stone ! And heard, by mortal terror wrung From heaving breast and stiffened tongue,

The choking sob and low hoarse prayer ; As o'er his half-crazed fancy came A vision of the eternal flameIts smoky cloud of agoniesIts demon-worm that never diesThe everlasting rise and fall Of fire waves round the infernal wall : While high above that dark red flood, Black, giant like, the Gallows stood : Two busy fiends attending there ; One with cold mocking rite and prayer, The other with impatient grasp, Tightening the death-rope's strangling clasp!

Thon, unto whom the blind and lame,
The sorrowing and the sin sick came,
And from Thy very garment's hem
Drew life and healing unto them,
The burthen of Thy holy faith
Was love and life, not hate and death :
Man's demon ministers of Pain,

The fiends of his revenge, were sent

From Thy pure Gospel's element
To their dark home again.
Thy name is Love! What then is he

Who in that name the Gallows rears,
An awful altar, built to Thee
With sacrifice of blood and tears?
Oh, once again Thy healing lay

On the blind eyes which know Thee not, And let the light of thy pure day

Melt in upon his darkened thought. Soften his hard, cold heart, and show

The power which in forbearance lies, And let him feel that Mercy now

's better than old sacrifice.

The unfelt rite at length was done

The prayer unheard at length was said-
An hour had passed :—the noon day sun

Smote on the features of the dead !
And he who stood the dooed beside,
Calm guager of the swelling tide
Of mortal agony and fear,
Heeding with curious eye and ear
Whate'er revealed the keen excess
Or man's extremest wretchedness :
And who, in that dark anguish, saw

An earnest of the victim's fate,
The vengeful terrors of God's law,

The kindlings of Eternal Hate-
The first drops of that fiery rain
Which beats the dark red realm of Pain,-
Did he uplist bis earnest cries

Against the crime of Law, which gave

His brother to that fearful grave, Whereon Hope's moon-light never lies,

And Faith's white blossoms never wave To the soft breath of Memory's sighs ;Which sent a spirit marred and stained, By fiends of sin possessed, profaned, In madness and in blindness stark, Into the silent unknown dark ? No—from the wild and shrinking dread With which he saw the victim led

Beneath the dark veil which divides Ever the living from the dead,

And Nature's solemn secret hides, The man of prayer can only draw New reasons for his bloody Law; New faith in staying Murder's hand, By murder at that Law's command; New reverence for the Gallows-rope, As human nature's latest hope ; Last relic of the good old time, When Power found license for its crime, And held a writhing world in check By that fell cord about its neck; Stifled Sedition's rising shout, Choked the young breath of Freedom out, And timely checked the words which sprung From Heresy's forbidden tongue; While, in its noose of terror bound, The Church its cherished union found, Conforming, on the Moslem plan, The motley-colored mind of man, Not by the Koran and the Sword, But by the Bible and the Cord!

As on the White Sea's charmed shore,

The Parsee sees his holy hill With dunnest smoke-clouds curtained o'er, Yet knows beneath them evermore

The low pale fire is quivering still; So, underneath its clouds of sin

The heart of man retaineth yet Gleams of its holy origin:

And half quenched stars that never set Dim colors of its faded bow,

And early beauty, linger there, And o'er its wasted desert blow

Faint breathings of its morning air. Oh! never yet upon the scroll of the sin-stained but priceless soul,

Hath Heaven inscribed - DESPAIR !" Cast not the clouded gem away, Quench not the dim but living ray

My brother man, Beware! With that deep voice which, from the skies Forbade the Patriarch's sacrifice,

God's angel cries, Forbear!

Oh Thou! at whose rebuke the grave
Back to warm life the sleeper gave,
Beneath whose sad and tearsul glance
The cold and changed countenance
Broke the still horror of its trance,
And waking saw with joy above,
A brother's face of tenderest love;

Poetry has been to me its own “exceeding great reward ;" it has soothed my affliction ; it has multiplied and refined my enjoyments; it has endeared solitude; and it has given me the habit of wishing to discover the good and the beautiful in all that meets and surrounds me.-COLERIDGE.

You cannot live for men, without living with them.

POEMS BY WILLIAM H. BURLEIGH.

« THE EARTH IS THE LORD'S."

PSALM XXIV.

Hills arrayed in living green,

Where the sunshine loves to linger,
And the wind with wizard finger,
Trifles with the springing grass-

Waters singing as they pass, (Pauses none to intervene,)

With a low and pleasant tune,
All the leafy time of June-
Valleys with the sunshine dancing

On their verdant slopes, and glancing Downward to their deepest beds

Forests, regally uplifting To the clouds their crowned leadsAnd the undulating plain Swaying with the swaying grainThese are Thine-and Thine the sky, With its gorgeous pageantry,

And its shadows ever shifting. Wait they all upon thy word, Nature's universal Lord!

Then to Thee, of life the Giver,
Praises be ascribed for ever!
Thine be thanks and adoration,
Thine be songs of exultation:

Thanks and songs for ever givenEvery voice in concert sounding, Every heart with rapture bounding, All harmonious anthems blending, Louder swelling as ascending

Tribute of the earth to Heaven!

Lord! the earth is thine,

And the fulness of the sea-
Heaps of gold, and gems that shine,
Flashing through the flashing brine,

All belong to Thee!
Underneath the yeasty waves,

Where the great sea-monsters roam, Thou hast hollowed wond'rous caves

For their ocean home.
Where the huge Leviathan

Revels in his kingly might
Over beds of chrysolite,
Thou hast builded temples fairer-

Thou hast fashioned grottos rarer
Than the proudest works of man.

There uncounted treasures lie
Hidden deep from human eye;
Lustrous gens, whose radiant gleams

Sparkle aye in starry beams.
All the wonders of the sea,

All the gems that flash and shine

Underneath the ocean-brine,
God! belong to Thee !
Lord! the earth is thine,

And the fulness of the earth!
Thou, in sovereignty of will,
From thine everlasting, hill,
Called the light-the voice DIVINE

O'er the formless void went forth,

And the darkness fled !
From the mass chaotic hurled
Rose to life this wond'rous world-
Suns and stars with constant force
And undeviating course

In their orbits sped.
T'ree, and plant, and opening flower,

In their virgin beauty drest,
Heard the mandate, and Thy power

Instantly confessed.
All by Thee were called to birth,
Sole PROPRIETOR of Earth.
Thine is every living thing-

From the sluggish worm that crawls

O'er the dungeon's slimy walls,
To the forest's tameless king-
And the bird, whose rapid wing

Flashes in the glad sunshine,
As it soars aloft, to fling
Out upon the gales of spring

Gifts of song that seem divine

Insect, beast, and bird are thine! Formed by Thy creating hand, Heedful all to Thy command.

H. A. B.

Deem not, Beloved! that the glow

Of love with youth will know decayFor though the wing of time may throw

A shadow o'er our way ;
The sunshine of a cloudless faith,

The calmness of a holy trust,
Shall linger in our hearts till Death

Consigns our « dust to dust!" The fervid passion of our youth-

The fervor of Affection's kiss Love, born of purity and truth

All pleasant memoriesThese still are ours, while looking back

Upon the Past with dewy eyes ; Oh dearest! on Life's vanished track

How much of sunshine lies!

Men call us poor-it may be true

Amid the gay and glittering crowd
We feel it, though our wants are few,

Yet envy not the proud.
The freshness of Love's early flowers,

Heart-sheltered through long years of want, Pure hopes and quiet joys are ours,

That wealth could never grant.

« AnteriorContinuar »