Part 15

Some eyes sleep when some eyes wake, And so the dreary night-hours go; Some hearts beat where some hearts break; I often wonder why 'tis so.

Some wills faint where some wills fight, Some love the tent, and some the field; I often wonder who are right -- The ones who strive, or those who yield?

Some hands fold where other hands Are lifted bravely in the strife; And so thro' ages and thro' lands Move on the two extremes of life.

Some feet halt where some feet tread, In tireless march, a thorny way; Some struggle on where some have fled; Some seek when others shun the fray.

Some swords rust where others clash, Some fall back where some move on; Some flags furl where others flash Until the battle has been won.

Some sleep on while others keep The vigils of the true and brave: They will not rest till roses creep Around their name above a grave.

A Blessing

Be you near, or be you far, Let my blessing, like a star, Shine upon you everywhere! And in each lone evening hour, When the twilight folds the flower, I will fold thy name in prayer.

In the dark and in the day, To my heart you know the way, Sorrow's pale hand keeps the key; In your sorrow or your sin You may always enter in; I will keep a place for thee.

If God's blessing pass away From your spirit; if you stray From his presence, do not wait. Come to my heart, for I keep For the hearts that wail and weep, Ever opened wide -- a gate.

In your joys to others go, When your feet walk ways of woe Only then come back to me; I will give you tear for tear, And our tears shall more endear Thee to me and me to thee.

For I make my heart the home Of all hearts in grief that come Seeking refuge and a rest. Do not fear me, for you know, Be your footsteps e'er so low, I know yours, of all, the best.

Once you came; and you brought sin; Did not my hand lead you in -- Into God's heart, thro' my own? Did not my voice speak a word You, for years, had never heard -- Mystic word in Mercy's tone?

And a grace fell on your brow, And I heard your murmured vow, When I whispered: "Go in peace." "Go in peace, and sin no more," Did you not touch Mercy's shore, Did not sin's wild tempest cease?

Go! then: thou art good and pure! If thou e'er shouldst fall, be sure, Back to me thy footsteps trace! In my heart for year and year, Be thou far away or near, I shall keep for thee a place.

Yes! I bless you -- near or far -- And my blessing, like a star, Shall shine on you everywhere; And in many a holy hour, As the sunshine folds the flower, I will fold thy heart in prayer.

July 9th, 1872

Between two pillared clouds of gold The beautiful gates of evening swung -- And far and wide from flashing fold The half-furled banners of light, that hung O'er green of wood and gray of wold And over the blue where the river rolled, The fading gleams of their glory flung.

The sky wore not a frown all day To mar the smile of the morning tide; The soft-voiced winds sang joyous lay -- You never would think they had ever sighed; The stream went on its sunlit way In ripples of laughter; happy they As the hearts that met at Riverside.

No cloudlet in the sky serene! Not a silver speck in the golden hue! But where the woods waved low and green, And seldom would let the sunlight through, Sweet shadows fell, and in their screen, The faces of children might be seen, And the flash of ribbons of blue.

It was a children's simple feast, Yet many were there whose faces told How far they are from childhood's East Who have reached the evening of the old! And father -- mother -- sister -- priest -- They seemed all day like the very least Of the little children of the fold.

The old forgot they were not young, The young forgot they would e'er be old, And all day long the trees among, Where'er their footsteps stayed or strolled, Came wittiest word from tireless tongue, And the merriest peals of laughter rung Where the woods drooped low and the river rolled.

No cloud upon the faces there, Not a sorrow came from its hiding place To cast the shadow of a care On the fair, sweet brows in that fairest place For in the sky and in the air, And in their spirits, and everywhere, Joy reigned in the fullness of her grace.

The day was long, but ah! too brief! Swift to the West bright-winged she fled; Too soon on ev'ry look and leaf The last rays flushed which her plumage shed From an evening cloud -- was it a sign of grief? And the bright day passed -- is there much relief That its dream dies not when its gleam is dead?

Great sky, thou art a prophet still! And by thy shadows and by thy rays We read the future if we will, And all the fates of our future ways; To-morrows meet us in vale and hill, And under the trees, and by the rill, Thou givest the sign of our coming days.

That evening cloud was a sign, I ween -- For the sister of that summer day Shall come next year to the selfsame scene; The winds will sing the selfsame lay; The selfsame woods will wave as green, And Riverside, thy skies serene Shall robe thee again in a golden sheen; Yet though thy shadows may weave a screen Where the children's faces may be seen, Thou ne'er shall be as thou hast been, For a face they loved has passed away.

Wake Me a Song

Out of the silences wake me a song, Beautiful, sad, and soft, and low; Let the loveliest music sound along, And wing each note with a wail of woe: Dim and drear As hope's last tear; Out of the silences wake me a hymn, Whose sounds are like shadows soft and dim.