Part 61

On the summit see, The seals of office glitter in his eyes; He climbs,--he pants,--he grasps them. At his heels, Close at his heels, a demagogue ascends, And with a dexterous jerk soon twists him down, And wins them, but to lose them in his turn.

Cowper.

* * * * *

If any man must fall for me to rise, Then seek I not to rise. Another’s pain I choose not for my good. A golden chain-- A robe of honour is too poor a prize To tempt my hasty hand to do a wrong Unto a fellow man. This life hath wo Sufficient, wrought by man’s satanic foe; And who that hath a heart would dare prolong Or add unto the sorrows of a soul That seeks some healing balm to make it whole? My bosom owns the brotherhood of man; From GOD and truth a renegade is he Who scorns a poor man in his poverty, Or on his fellow lays a supercilious ban.

MacKellar.

ASH TREE.... Grandeur.

* * * * *

It is sure, Stamped by the seal of nature, that the well Of mind, where all its waters gather pure, Shall with unquestioned spell all hearts allure. Wisdom enshrined in beauty--Oh! how high The order of that loveliness.

Percival.

* * * * *

The sky is changed!--and such a change! O night, And storm, and darkness, ye are wondrous strong, Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light Of a dark eye in woman! Far along, From peak to peak, the rattling crags among Leaps the live thunder! Not from one lone cloud, But every mountain now hath found a tongue, And Jura answers, through her misty shroud, Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud! And this is in the night:--most glorious night! Thou wert not sent for slumber! let me be A sharer in thy fierce and far delight,-- A portion of the tempest and of thee! How the lit lake shines, a phosphoric sea, And the big rain comes dancing to the earth! And now again ’tis black,--and now, the glee Of the loud hills shakes with its mountain mirth, As if they did rejoice o’er a young earthquake’s birth.

Byron.

* * * * *

I’ll go along, no such sight to be shown, But to rejoice in splendour of mine own.

Shakspeare.

* * * * *

But lo! the dome--the vast and wondrous dome, To which Diana’s marvel was a cell-- Christ’s mighty shrine above his martyr’s tomb! I have beheld the Ephesian’s miracle-- Its columns strew the wilderness, and dwell The hyæna and the jackal in their shade; I have beheld Sophia’s bright roofs swell Their glittering mass i’ the sun, and have surveyed Its sanctuary the while the usurping Moslem prayed; But thou, of temples old, or altars new, Standest alone--with nothing like to thee-- Worthiest of GOD, the holy and the true. Since Zion’s desolation, when that He Forsook his former city, what could be, Of earthly structures in his honour piled, Of a sublimer aspect? Majesty, Power, glory, strength, and beauty, all are aisled In this eternal ark of worship undefiled. Enter: its grandeur overwhelms thee not; And why? it is not lessened; but thy mind, Expanded by the genius of the spot, Has grown colossal, and can only find A fit abode wherein appear enshrined Thy hopes of immortality; and thou Shalt one day, if found worthy, so defined, See thy God face to face, as thou dost now His Holy of Holies, nor be blasted by his brow.

Byron.

* * * * *

What peremptory, eagle-sighted eye Dares look upon the heaven of her brow, That is not blinded by her majesty?

Shakspeare.

* * * * *

The glorious sun Stays in his course, and plays the alchymist, Turning, with splendour of his precious eye, The meagre, cloddy earth to glittering gold.

Shakspeare.

* * * * *

No! I shall never lose the trace, Of what I’ve felt in this bright place; And should my spirit’s hope grow weak,-- Should I, O God! forget thy power, This mighty scene again I’ll seek, At the same calm and glowing hour; And here at the sublimest shrine That nature ever reared to thee, Rekindle all that hope divine, And feel my immortality!

Moore.

CHAMOMILE.... Energy in Adversity.