LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
 Shelf. -Gb-.g^ 5 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
SONGS OF THE SPIRIT. 
 
BY ISAAC R. BAXLEY. 
 
 The Temple of Alanthur, with Other Poems. 
 New edition. i2mo, cloth, gilt top, 140 pages. 
 
 Price, |i.oo. 
 The Prophet, and Other Poems. 
 
 New edition. i2nio, cloth, gilt top, 78 pages. 
 
 Price, li.oo. 
 CHARLES WELLS MOULTON, 
 Buffalo, N. Y. 
 
Songs of the Spirit 
 
 BY 
 
 ISAAC R. BAXLEY 
 
 Author of "The Temple of Alanthur," 
 "The Prophet," Etc. 
 
 BUFFALO 
 
 CHARLES WELLS MOULTON 
 
 1891 
 
 \^\-. ^ 
 
 s\ 
 

 Copyright, 
 
 1890, 
 
 By Isaac R. Baxley. 
 
 PRINTED by 
 C. W. MOULTON, 
 BUFFALO, N. Y. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 I. Out of the numberless, mystical things . . 9 
 II. Not only in cavernous homes of the sea . 14 
 
 III. Fly out, on noiseless wings, and be ... 17 
 
 IV. For the glories of Heaven impatiently . . 22 
 V. Outward is darkness, and dismay .... 25 
 
 VI. Unloosed from the silence of Earth, and 
 
 anear 28 
 
 VII. Into another world I saw 31 
 
 VIII. In unexpected mysteries 38 
 
 IX. There was something — a substance — an 
 
 evident thing 42 
 
 X. I saw peculiar excellence 46 
 
 XI. Wrapped in a veil of darkness and dis- 
 tressed 49 
 
 Paradise : Part First 53 
 
 Paradise : Part Second 77 
 
 Song of the Spirit 88 
 
SONGS OF THE SPIRIT. 
 
/. 
 
 /~\UT of the numberless, mystical things 
 
 Is one who stands in the steps of Time, 
 Await till the Spirit shall gather the strings 
 
 Together that give him peace and rhyme: 
 To sound and to echo his Soul is set. 
 
 And his eyes are dim; unheeded there 
 Would float in the glory that suns beget 
 
 The sweetest Spirit that winged the air. 
 
10 Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 But the torture grows and the Spirit never 
 
 Sends from the strings nor its lips a sound, 
 And the listening Soul, with a fierce endeavor, 
 
 Buries its heart to a depth profound: 
 " If I blot from myself all life and be 
 
 But a terrible question of this — this thing. 
 The Spirit must waken to answer me — 
 
 And strike for my ears on the tightened string. ' 
 
 But the Spirit is far in its Isles of Peace, 
 
 Sitting in sapphire, with pearl aglow, 
 And never and never its lips increase 
 
 To sound, nor the strings revive and flow: 
 In peace — in peace: sweet, perfect, still. 
 
 Unshaken, changeless, calm, enclosed. 
 Sure never possessor of such things will 
 
 Be from its shadowless sleep deposed. 
 
So7igs of the Spirit. 
 
 But up from the glory of sight and sea, 
 
 The beauty, the hght, and the silent store 
 Of a terribly perfect ecstacy 
 
 Its being expandeth out and o'er: 
 Light! light! and ever the glow of light! 
 
 With purple, wonderful tints, and hue 
 Of something else than the actual sight, 
 
 And something never a mortal knew. 
 
 For though he listened, and his eyes refused 
 
 To open for ever a thing divine, 
 The glory was freed as a thing unloosed 
 
 To penetrate essence, and Soul, and shine 
 Full through and through; and never a cast 
 
 Of his constant lids on useless eyes 
 Could hinder th' angelic beams that passed 
 
 His body's sullen and weak disguise. 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 Within him — out — till he seemed to be 
 
 Transparent in a flame, and thing 
 That filled the earth, and filled the sea, 
 
 And grew and ever was brightening: 
 He seemed to see himself a shell, 
 
 A husk, a something that contained 
 The life of Spirits, of those who well 
 
 Speak out and be with their lips restrained. 
 
 For he knew the Light, and its name, and its face, 
 
 And he sat as one convicted — known; 
 But speech was vision, and silence grace 
 
 Of expression past all but the Spirit's own: 
 And his lips and his eyes were needless: he 
 
 Forgot in his Soul all sound and rhyme. 
 For the life of the Spirit he saw to be 
 
 Exhaled — as Eternity breathes on Time. 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 13 
 
 He rose: for the Spirit faded — passed; 
 
 Quivered and severed its light aside : 
 Things shrank into sight; all the distance vast 
 
 Of a Heaven was now but the wonder-eyed 
 Remembrance of glor>', that must be still 
 
 Engulfed far out in the Isles of Peace, 
 W^hence it would return if he had will, 
 
 And his Soul had faith, and his eyes increase. 
 
// 
 
 M OT only in cavernous homes of the sea 
 
 Are the quenchless stores of things divine, 
 Nor does only the willing stars' heraldry 
 With the light of their wonderful birth-right 
 shine; 
 For there are in the heart such things as come 
 
 Not over the sea, nor out of the night. 
 And the unknown speech of the Soul is a tongue 
 They may listen and wait for in fear and delight. 
 
Songs of the Spirit. i5 
 
 It may be there lieth in the lips of a Soul 
 
 Some exquisite blessing of peace unto them, 
 Which springs where the ideal spaces roll 
 
 That their luminous pathways may not stem; 
 For the Spirit is perfect, and they enclosed 
 
 In the hidden life of a thing aside. 
 May gather some joy from a Soul transposed 
 
 In the mystical sight of the glorified. 
 
 May the Spirit from out of itself and its Life 
 
 Ever pour on the bosom of earth and of sea 
 Such beauty; a hope of the vanished strife 
 
 Of the Soul and themselves in Eternity ? 
 Shall it give from its viewless self impress 
 
 Of the shining things no star may see, 
 And sail far out in a sweet excess 
 
 To return with the freight of its sanctity ? 
 
1 6 Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 O! is there still ever in the smiles of earth 
 
 One sweeter than any, and flashing bright, 
 Await for the Souls whose holy birth 
 
 Is where the numberless lamps of night 
 Needless shine ? And do they in patience await 
 
 With all their glory outspread to be 
 As servitors unto the radiant state 
 
 Of beatitude bearing mortality ? 
 
 Ah! is there remaining in cloud and in sky 
 
 The look of the measureless eyes that passed 
 All the heavenly courses quietly 
 
 Till they found the rest for themselves at last ? 
 Is there somewhere set in the things which bear 
 
 The tranquil steps of a Spirit's pace 
 Its messages, left in the shining air, 
 
 And over the sea the light of its face ? 
 
III. 
 
 pLY out, on noiseless wings, and be 
 
 My Spirit, something of delight. 
 There's not in all Earth's boundary 
 
 A footing to sustain thy flight: 
 Thou hast no name, nor ever yet 
 
 Most passionate of any cry 
 Could loose the seal of silence set 
 
 On things that in thine essence lie. 
 
i8 Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 O part, part from thy paths and be 
 
 Thrilled with intensified relief, 
 Cleft from th' acknowledged misery 
 
 Of an unspoken speech and belief: 
 O part; stand out a word — a claim 
 
 Expressing only what it is, 
 Impossible for thee a name 
 
 With faintest syllable amiss. 
 
 Wearied with hope of far beauty 
 
 Which cannot still thyself proclaim, 
 O pass, and burst on ecstacy 
 
 Of being, seeming, known the same: 
 O gather, gather to excess 
 
 Thy shining heritage of life, 
 Its fullness shall thy cr>^ redress 
 
 And draw thee, vanished, from the strife. 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 19 
 
 Not only thou, within thy sense, 
 
 Pure, infinitely fine as thou, 
 Waveth a flame and light, intense, 
 
 A fervid, penetrable glow: 
 Of this within, and round thee. Soul, 
 
 That wide, transparent, endless haze, 
 What wonder that betimes unroll 
 
 The hills — translucent in thy gaze. 
 
 When thou, O Spirit, hast attained 
 
 Remission from thy fainter birth, 
 And when thy weary lips have gained 
 
 Succor from all the words of Earth, 
 Then into thine shall glide and grow 
 
 This trembling, inner flame, which is 
 Apparent here because below 
 
 Are not the heavenly mysteries. 
 
So?igs of the Spirit. 
 
 It quivered as thyself didst play 
 
 And bum out towards The Infinite, 
 Thy pathway was a wondrous ray, 
 
 But this intensified delight: 
 Thou canst not name thyself, and flee 
 
 Outward for peace, with purpose fair, 
 But sweet is still mortality 
 
 If this blooms in its blessed air! 
 
 What is this secret in thine own — 
 
 How keepeth thine the inner flame ? 
 O Spirit, ask how thou hast grown, 
 
 Wherein thy stature, aspect, came: 
 Thou art so singularly poor 
 
 To speak, with fountains ever full — 
 This flame in thine but little more 
 
 Is mystified or wonderful. 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 But pass, O Spirit, if forbid 
 
 To call and cry thyself and thine; 
 No more, to thee, is distant hid 
 
 The sequence beautiful, benign: 
 It must, it must break out and be 
 
 Some transcript of the things that there 
 Seem so transparent unto thee. 
 
 There is some tongue for mortal air! 
 
IV. 
 
 UOR the glories of Heaven impatiently 
 
 Pass over the sensitive sea, and things 
 Of the Earth are aglow to triumphantly 
 
 Break out into bloom by the beautiful springs: 
 O I see the immortal colors, and wide 
 
 Are opened the beautiful bounds that there 
 Spread out for the Spirit, descending aside 
 
 Roll the confines that cloud their extent in the air. 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 23 
 
 The hills that are purple grow golden, and rise 
 
 Upspreading and stretched till their figures become 
 Prolonged in my sight to an infinite size, 
 
 And the blue sky flies out fi"om its high-tinted 
 dome: 
 For I see in my Soul as there never a sun 
 
 Rose up in the Earth to enlighten me. 
 There is not a darkness nor shadow, each one 
 
 Of the hills is aflame — glowing splendidly. 
 
 Out over the valleys and plains of the place 
 
 Run majestic waters; the rivers are free 
 To lengthen their courses on, on into space 
 
 Of their wonderful measures set endlessly: 
 Ever the perfectest pleasure and peace are displayed 
 
 By the Spirits and Beings who flee out in the ways, 
 Where the light of this beautiful land is portrayed 
 
 In a manner unused to my astonished gaze. 
 
24 Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 For its colors and hues to the tenderest eyes 
 
 Are ever more gentle, and ever anew 
 From the unsullied sources of beauty arise 
 
 Most exquisite glories that radiate through 
 The waters responsive and hills, that are free 
 
 As a mystical portion of the Life that is 
 Encompassed by every serenity — 
 
 Sharing with the Spirits in their harmonies. 
 
 And never again is deserted and lost 
 
 From the answering Earth its remembrance and 
 sight 
 To the eyes of my Soul, that have opened and crossed 
 
 All the distance of darkness and faced upon light: 
 There is ever and ever such vision, and vast 
 
 Uprises the Spirit of Earth to the high 
 Enclosure of beauty, that descended and passed 
 
 By the sight of the Soul to inhabit the eye. 
 
V. 
 
 /^UTWARD is darkness, and dismay 
 
 Sinks terribly on distant Time; 
 As open-eyed we gaze away 
 
 We fade and perish: lo, sublime 
 And beautiful appears the Soul, 
 
 Standing forever with its eyes 
 Immersed in visions from the goal 
 
 That gives, and draws us, Spirit-wise. 
 
26 Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 Within is set thy Spirit, so 
 
 The mighty plains within thee turn, 
 Therein the Earth shall sightless go, 
 
 Thou shalt not hitherward discern 
 But in thyself 's forgetfulness, — 
 
 Out of thy casemate forth and far 
 Into the lands of loveliness 
 
 Straying, where Souls already are. 
 
 A wish — a cry — a glance upwhirled — 
 
 Thy Spirit's loosening — away 
 Fliest thou victor through a world 
 
 Abruptly vanquished in thy sway: 
 That infinite and fearful sea 
 
 Of substance for the Spirit's need 
 Is bound in thine uncertainty — 
 
 Fly forth — what clouds thy wings impede ? 
 
Songs of the Spirit 27 
 
 To every wind of Earth a wing 
 
 Is feathered, and for every sea 
 A flight is measured; wilt thou fling 
 
 Abroad on that Eternity 
 Pinions to bear thee, and abide 
 
 Where custom perisheth, and be 
 All that thou hast been, and beside 
 
 Spirit released exultingly ? 
 
 O turn — turn to the inward sea, 
 
 Pass to th' embosomed hills that glow 
 Glorious in thy mortality — 
 
 But not where human foot-falls go: 
 Thine is the vision — fearful gaze — 
 
 Can stretch, and conquer, and enclose 
 The land outspread in sweet displays — 
 
 But not in earth thy roadway goes. 
 
VI. 
 
 I TNLOOSED from the silence of Earth, and anear 
 
 To the wonderful home of the Spirit, in sight 
 Of its exquisite safety, its peace, and the clear 
 
 Astonishing day of its life and its light, 
 The doubt and the darkness descend and decline, 
 
 And the lips of the Spirit are opened, and flow 
 Out into a transport, rising upward the fine 
 
 Exultations of happiness mingle and go. 
 
Songs of the Spirit 29 
 
 In an ecstatic bravery- the passionate eyes 
 
 Of the Soul extend far from foundations of Time 
 Into eternal sources, where upgather and rise 
 
 The outlines that angelic habitants climb; 
 And the beautiful visions portrayed overpour 
 
 All the obstinate silence of Earth, and declare 
 The ancient outbursts of the Spirit, but more 
 
 Shines the wonderful light that the Spirit shall 
 wear. 
 
 And the Soul, with its eyes forever steadfast 
 
 To the radiant changes that constantly come. 
 Passes with its new feet on the Earth, till at last, 
 
 In all the outgoings, one highway alone 
 Is stretched out in its passage, where there hinder 
 the way 
 
 No barriers, all the gateways have faded and grown 
 Into transparent beacons glowing out in array — 
 
 And the flash of their ending is the light of their own. 
 
30 Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 And the lips of the Spirits that traverse with flight 
 
 Of their hastening feet on this highway, and go 
 Fixed with their bright eyes on the increasing hght 
 
 Of their guiding, what speech hath the Earth to 
 bestow 
 To their using — O what is the passion of song 
 
 Themselves to deliver ? What fearful display 
 Can they grasp from the glorious sights that belong 
 
 To the Soul — and into humanity say ? 
 
 O the speech of the Spirit is ever anew 
 
 In its choosing, and ever and ever the same 
 Is the Spirit, in sound it is hidden, but through, 
 
 Forever, all speech shines its terrible flame: 
 Forever the light, in its tempest upspringing. 
 
 Burns the darkness that buries the terrible years, 
 Incessantly waken the sounds of its singing, 
 
 Await for the echo in hearkening ears. 
 
VII. 
 
 T NTO another world I saw 
 
 And this fell from me, for I rose 
 Embodied, not the less that law 
 
 Of ancientness was past and closed: 
 The sanctioned uses, breath and blood, 
 The form, the visage, and the mood 
 Attainable to touch, that could 
 Be verified, and bear expense 
 Of naming, these were passed, and thence 
 Upstarting in an altered air 
 I lived, though these were never there. 
 
32 Songs of tJie Spirit. 
 
 In memory deep, dare I betray 
 The settled secrets of my stay?. 
 Dare I, a solitar>^ tongue, 
 Stand out the cadences among 
 And claim: — There is a symphony 
 Thou hast not sung, that anciently 
 Arose and fell, and undisturbed 
 Lies whispering still, one deathless word 
 Dare I proclaim the sound I heard ? 
 
 My Soul is listening and it says: — 
 
 Speak out, the world is vacant, soon 
 The tempests of its tortured ways 
 
 Shall lift a long uncovered boon 
 And bear it far and far; around 
 
 Swiftly its circuit, till arise 
 New speech and knowledge for the sound 
 
 That is unnamed in all her cries. 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 33 
 
 And I — I falter: but my Soul 
 
 Bursts thitherward again, and I 
 Grow courage as the glories roll 
 
 In actual, happy panoply: 
 And I descend, and ask in fear 
 
 My Spirit how the visions came, 
 And it responds: — Didst thou not hear 
 
 Within thyself one common name ? 
 
 Go call that name; but not as those 
 
 Have known it hitherward, but say: — 
 Of all the melancholy woes 
 
 Are suffered, none but this sound may 
 Dissever, if thou gird'st it fast 
 
 Thy Spirit, and thy Spirit goes 
 Parcelled, apportioned, reckoned, cast 
 
 Out where the farthest current flows. 
 
34 Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 So I — I am my Spirit's best; 
 
 I draw the veil hung in my heart, 
 And thou — thou witnesseth impressed 
 
 The sight of which this sound is part: 
 Thou seest, closeted within, 
 
 A substance of appearance high 
 And singular, which is the kin 
 
 To me, as only kin this cry 
 Is unto that sweet, soundless name 
 
 First lightened in obedient eyes. 
 When what were words were simply flame, 
 
 Which flew as silent brightness flies. 
 
 Sad, undiscovered, sits a thing. 
 Endlessly patient in the heart, 
 
 A nameless, constant, chaste being, 
 Thyself — but more than still thou art; 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 35 
 
 For it has wastage, and the pain 
 Of wanting, and thy heavy Soul 
 
 Speaks of its griefs in wild refrain — 
 But thou deem'st otherwise the dole. 
 
 For surely other than to thee 
 
 Is wanting, wastage and dismay; 
 By night thou goest, and daily 
 
 Discoverest not this sad decay; 
 O fevered, dying, desolate, 
 
 Decrepidly it sits, and wears 
 Th' immortal anguish of its fate, 
 
 And sees nm out th' immortal tears. 
 
 If thou could'st know, could'st only guess 
 Th' unknown prisoner in thyself, 
 
36 Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 Thy Soul and thou, despatched, would bless 
 
 Its fearful penury with wealth; 
 For 'tis not yet thy Soul, nor thee, 
 
 Sits so unknown — so long — so long — 
 Thou hast the rhyme, the words, the key, 
 
 But O, thou hast not yet the Song! 
 
 Into the land of Spirit I 
 
 Looked as a guest swiftly sent by; 
 
 There, radiantly pure, and clad 
 
 So beautifully nothing had 
 
 Much more of shining vesture — so 
 
 Unveiled and tearless, bright, aglow 
 
 With happiness and long content, 
 
 I saw this Being, who had spent 
 
 Ages and ages burdened — bent. 
 
So7tgs of the Spirit 37 
 
 But as I looked I could not tell 
 Which creature fashioned the spell — 
 The heart of Man — or Woman's heart — 
 Or Spirit — healed with perfect art; 
 I knew, and only knew, arise 
 This Being, and my daring eyes 
 Looked swiftly on the thing within 
 Myself — and saw this Being's kin. 
 Which was the vision, and the name 
 Soundless so long, so long in shame 
 Sunken beneath its altar-flame. 
 
VIII. 
 
 TN unexpected mysteries 
 
 A Spirit's shape engendered is: 
 Impalpable and active — real, 
 Powerful, keen, wearing the seal 
 And fashion of a subtle thing. 
 Fearless, ennobled, excelling. 
 
 As one uncomprehended, known 
 But hastily, as something grown 
 Amiss unto the eyes of men. 
 It shows its visage shortly, then 
 Turns from the staring gaze and is 
 Again with obscure mysteries. 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 39 
 
 But in that mystery there is light; 
 Lost unto men upon the sight 
 Of this, that Spirit, rapidly 
 Dissolves its own obscurity: 
 It comes again, and throws afar 
 Splendor of which its sources are. 
 
 Lone, speechless, fearless, undisguised, 
 It passes many a path despised. 
 And many a question, many a blame. 
 Calls out in scorn this Spirit's name: 
 Thou art not one of us: — so says 
 The caviller consciously in phrase 
 Of rectitude — wherefore arise 
 These beings in their strange disguise, 
 And singular evidence that we 
 Are not sufficed in harmony ? 
 
40 Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 But the bright Spirit, passing by, 
 Leaves light of something splendidly 
 Settled on surfaces that know 
 More quickly to catch up the glow 
 Of beauteousness; but after him. 
 When what he left is dull and dim, 
 As vision lasts, accusers stand. 
 Lifting each long, reviling hand. 
 Deriding o'er the darkening land. 
 But they, they cavil and forget: 
 But he returns: more fearful yet 
 Out of unspoken sources fly 
 The records of his radiancy. 
 
 So fearfully increases light 
 
 Of him, so terrible the sight 
 
 Of one who stands, transparently 
 
 And dumb, beside that you may see 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 41 
 
 The compass of his mysteries, 
 And, seeing, may partake of these, 
 That some who cavil, silently, 
 Little by little, in degree, 
 Unwrap their garments and enclose 
 Mystery that from this Spirit goes. 
 
 But he is heedless, as one blest 
 
 With instinct of a far-off hest; 
 
 And, having patiently disposed 
 
 His trappings, where there shines enclosed 
 
 An increase ever marvelous, 
 
 Passes as one who says: — And thus 
 
 Shall ye who take persistent give. 
 
 Also, the increase ye shall live. 
 
IX. 
 
 'THERE was something— a substance— an evident 
 thing — 
 
 And it rose and enveloped myself, and it grew 
 Apparent and passive, but so encircling 
 
 Myself it was heedless, and never it knew 
 Of my presence, but the light of its wonderful grace 
 
 Was astir for another than I, and it sent 
 Exquisite enquiry flashed out of its face — 
 
 But tranquility out with the earnestness went. 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 43 
 
 I stayed, as remaining an onlooker may 
 
 Who is silent and stricken, whose eyes are a-fast 
 Upon things in a distant and uncertain way, 
 
 As one in the sight of a vision that passed: 
 But the thing that I saw seemed nowise to me 
 
 Like to unsettled shades, in their terror arrayed, 
 But the manner of all had most benignantly 
 
 Passed into the sense of my Soul as I stayed. 
 
 That the quivering cadence of light, as it moved, 
 
 Sought out of the subtleness whereof it came — 
 Down in its excessively, tenderest loved 
 
 Recesses — a consciously tremulous flame; 
 And the glory of Earth, and the tinge of the air. 
 
 Partook of an exquisite temper untold 
 As the outstretching Spirit expanded in rare 
 
 Distinctions of beauty, its delight to unfold. 
 
44 Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 For I saw in the mystical Spirit a thing 
 
 Disbelieving; a terrible cry of the earth 
 Was shrunken, and silent, and disappearing, 
 
 Emerging, existed the delicate birth 
 And the multiplied self of a Spirit, anew 
 
 Set trembling in certainty out on the gaze 
 Of the passionate cycles of horror that grew 
 
 Abundantly over its birth in the days. 
 
 And I listened: what glories of speech would betray 
 
 In an adequate rapture release and express 
 Most profoundly their knowledge, what a sanctified 
 way 
 Was sufficed to the need of their loveliness: 
 But they tarried; and I saw that they knew and 
 displayed 
 Most totally out of their consciousness all 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 45 
 
 Of their secretest wishes, that stood out undismayed 
 In a silence that spake with no Hps and no call. 
 
 And this was their beauty of speaking, and this 
 
 Was their mystified manner, and flashes that 
 were 
 Unto them an expression, the identical bliss 
 
 Of disclosure accomplished; discarding the near 
 And the nearest design of emotion, to be 
 
 Expressive themselves, as expression arose. 
 And, released from their ardent identity. 
 
 Each Spirit of one did the other disclose. 
 
X. 
 
 T SAW peculiar excellence 
 
 Of sweetness, and a piercing light 
 Of power, burning with intense 
 Illumination and delight. 
 
 Within the lustre there was hue 
 Of delicate, almost odorous 
 
 Admixture of some colors, through 
 The glow displaying marvelous. 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 47 
 
 There was not any other where 
 Such thing in such exact display, 
 
 This flame that lived leaped in an air 
 Had hither swept some distant way. 
 
 It was, indeed, arriving so. 
 With some peculiar color sent, 
 
 Fanned of its individual glow, 
 And mixed with other airs content. 
 
 But there was still shining discourse, 
 
 And an unshaken origin 
 Vividly flying with the force 
 
 Of all its substance blended in. 
 
 Which curious, because estranged 
 From much that easily was placed 
 
 About, with wonderfully arranged 
 Circuits, exquisite, happy, chaste. 
 
48 Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 Perplexing was the permanent 
 Remaining and abiding so 
 
 Of still and still this wind, that went 
 Still something as it used to go. 
 
 A Spirit, — for Spirits arise — 
 Guardians administering aid, 
 
 Intelligence sent from his eyes 
 Enlightening, and smiling said: 
 
 This deathless, undisturbed flame, 
 This wind that beareth all apart 
 
 Itself, this is the throb that came 
 Unto the Spirit in the Heart. 
 
XL 
 
 AX/ RAPPED in a veil of darkness, and distressed, 
 Stands the imprisoned Soul, with anxious eyes 
 Set to the coming of a long impressed, 
 Expected breakage in the distant skies. 
 
 There is no guidance to the Spirit's feet. 
 No beacon on the Spirit's eyes ablaze, 
 
 That breaks not farther than the farthest fleet. 
 Illumined wandering of mortal rays. 
 
50 So7igs of the Spirit. 
 
 So is the Soul in silence and oppressed, 
 Sadly disclaiming with its tearful eyes 
 
 Each avenue of passage, till expressed 
 Out on the night th' instinctive glory lies. 
 
 Little by little, as the glimmerings go 
 Faintly around the far-off horizon. 
 
 The sad eyes of the Soul steady, and grow 
 Fixed at the light dilating passing on. 
 
 Forgetful, with its silent habitude 
 Of waiting yet more passionately still. 
 
 The figure of the Spirit stands as stood 
 The long and gentle patience of its will. 
 
 Flashing, reviving, radiant and keen 
 Spreads the expanding glow, and separate 
 
 Extends a glorious pathway out between 
 The watchful Soul and that angelic state. 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 51 
 
 Immediately, with peaceful passage out, 
 Glides the illumined traveler, and goes 
 
 Pacing past anxious ways that oft about 
 Its walk of light their avenues disclose. 
 
 Wide in that country of celestial light 
 The Spirit's eyes continue, and acquire 
 
 More and more fervently the strong delight 
 And brilliant conquest of its sacred fire. 
 
 Thence to the boundary coming, and entrance 
 Obtaining where its glorious ways invite. 
 
 The Spirit trembles in the sweet advance 
 And gentlest presence of celestial sight. 
 
 Distinct, and differing in tenderness 
 From every glory and from every shade, 
 
 Through all, in a majestic holiness. 
 He enters, unmistakably arrayed. 
 
52 Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 Therein the passion of the Spirit sends 
 Its outcry, and, its heart delivering, 
 
 Stands in the sweet discernment that extends 
 Forever from The Light administering. 
 
PARADISE: PART FIRST. 
 
 C HINE out, O struggling Soul, and break 
 
 Enlightened in the sounds that clung 
 To silence; loosen time and take 
 The burden of thy mj^stic tongue. 
 
 Thine are the eyes uplift and see 
 
 The fashion of exquisite grace 
 That clothed the Earth, and anciently 
 
 Settled with peace her sacred place. 
 
54 Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 Thou seest from a distant height 
 Of journey, and the fervid rays 
 
 Of an unconquerable delight 
 Deliver up the ancient days. 
 
 For these were days of Time, and still 
 Unseen abide as time descends 
 
 Slowly from out the gates that will 
 Illumine while he re-ascends. 
 
 Unseen in time have vacant gone 
 The beautiful and brilliant hours 
 
 That closed in darkness, as in storm 
 Dismay bewildering falls on flowers. 
 
 But every blossom where delight 
 Had passage dyes the silence still, 
 
 The steady Spirit-eyes in sight 
 Of blessedness with passion fill. 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 55 
 
 Passion of purity, and see 
 The fashion of a sight that is 
 
 Not other than the Soul shall be 
 Uplifted in its mysteries. 
 
 For beautiful, O beautiful 
 
 Abide the answers of desire 
 That gazes fast and terrible 
 
 Into the living, sacred fire. 
 
 And beautiful, O beautiful 
 
 Fulfil the far anxieties, 
 So perfect in that mystical 
 
 Delight the Spirit knows and sees. 
 
 Where rest these pictures in their peace ? 
 
 Shall they discover in a long 
 Immensity and flight; are these 
 
 Signs that are far, and far belong ? 
 
56 Songs of the Spirit 
 
 Nay, to the radiant Earth they still 
 Unfold, and stretch in silence wide 
 
 About her aspect, wrapped until 
 The Soul shall draw their veil aside. 
 
 For over them the Soul hath cast 
 Her sweet, delighted orbs, and stood 
 
 With them in kindred, in the Past 
 That bore her in its plentitude. 
 
 The Soul remains, and still abide 
 These harvests for her faithful eyes, 
 
 The breath that calls them to her side 
 Is the low burden of her sighs. 
 
 And she, that sufferer divine, 
 Reviewing with astonished sight 
 
 Her far-off memories that shine 
 Unquenchably in their delight, — 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 57 
 
 Attaining, gazing, holding still 
 The deathless secret of her own, 
 
 With seeds of blessedness shall fill 
 Furrows her frailty hath sown. 
 
 O blind, so blind: oblivion fell, 
 Blotting her beauty and her peace, 
 
 She was a child of simple spell. 
 And saw her simple myster}^ cease. 
 
 She rose and knew but beauty; saw 
 But sweetness, and the splendid ray 
 
 That glides out of the single law 
 Of loveliness attained alway. 
 
 The loveliness remains and goes 
 
 Idly and uninhabited. 
 So close to the sad Soul that knows 
 
 So little of the ways it led. 
 
58 Songs of tJie Spirit. 
 
 For she, the blighted Spirit, takes 
 Slowly possessions in her hands 
 
 She newly sees, and vacant makes 
 Their number over as she stands. 
 
 Touched with another sense and shape 
 She hesitates in weakness, knows 
 
 The sad, sad secret that could slake 
 One sorrow in a thousand woes. 
 
 And so she journeyed, sad, disguised, 
 Empty of innocence, and fast 
 
 Forgetting glory that, despised, 
 Disdained, dissembled, faded — past. 
 
 For this, her blessed Paradise, 
 That filled her Spirit and her scene. 
 
 Lay in the light that filled her eyes. 
 She saw delight, nothing between. 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 59 
 
 And she was fashioned in her cell 
 Of innocence and sanctity, 
 
 As one wrapped in a secret spell 
 Of absolute and sure beauty. 
 
 She was the star that sent its ray 
 Without itself, and blazed abroad, 
 
 Lighting with brilliancy alway 
 Whatever passages she trod. 
 
 And lost, O lost: she sees and knows 
 Her sorrowful encasement, where 
 
 Feebly her shadowed aspect glows, 
 And hesitates in darkened air. 
 
 And she is prisoner; encased 
 In the sad confines that arose 
 
 Around her eyes; abroad the waste 
 For passage, and within her woes. 
 
6o Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 She knew a vision that dispelled 
 
 With sorrowful invective all 
 Her fearlessness, and built and celled 
 
 Her dungeon and its massive wall. 
 
 Thereby in ages hath she wrought 
 Distressed, standing betimes to see 
 
 On the far outlook something sought 
 By bitterness but certainty. 
 
 Darkened, o'erburdened, blighted, spent, 
 
 Lo, inextinguishable alway 
 The glorious brilliancy that went 
 
 Within herself that sombre way. 
 
 She kept, sweet Spirit, kept a-stir 
 
 Her memory in slumbering, 
 And lo, in ages back to her 
 
 Revives its ancient cherishing. 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 6i 
 
 'Twas long, so long. There stands to touch 
 Her eyelids with impassioned balm 
 
 New Knowledge — strong, bestowing much 
 Intensest ecstac}^ and calm. 
 
 Outward — onward: She pauses slow- 
 Over the wastage that extends 
 
 Out of the secrets she did know 
 And listens where their echo sends 
 
 A tremulous, devoted tone, 
 
 And where with bright impatience flies 
 Radiance, in passages that own 
 
 Their freedom to her fervid eyes. 
 
 For her unconquerable gaze, 
 
 Profoundly darkened in the sight 
 
 Of hidden things, reviving plays 
 Exquisitely with ancient light. 
 
62 Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 Regaining transport, vivified 
 Flashes her longing, and her eye 
 
 Exulting plays around the wide 
 Domain of vanished misery. 
 
 Released, unbound, the prisoner goes 
 Appareled with majestic mien 
 
 Of one forgetful in her woes, 
 Impassioned in a glittering scene 
 
 That soothes her; penetrating far 
 In aisles of memory to raise 
 
 Reviving ecstacies that were 
 Companions of her happy ways. 
 
 O Spirit, sweet, brilliant, secure. 
 Regarding with thy clear-eyed glance 
 
 Things of the Soul, deathlessly pure 
 Thou passest in thy high advance: 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 63 
 
 Whereon thy fearless eyes are set 
 Hath power to draw thee, and endue 
 
 Unconquerably the things that yet 
 Remain thy glories to pursue. 
 
 Endowed, illumined, living, strong, 
 Unswervingly the Spirit makes 
 
 Its passage, gathering what belong 
 Of memory and hope, it takes 
 
 Into its heart its story old 
 Of innocence, and sees arise 
 
 Again the legend's lettered gold 
 Outspread upon a new sun-rise. 
 
 O beautiful, and widely bright 
 Spreadeth the glory, with its hue 
 
 Enlivened in the straining sight 
 Of those sad eyes that only knew 
 
64 So?igs of the Spirit 
 
 A darkness as they longed and gazed, 
 With passion fearfully intent, 
 
 And a wild heart, distressed, amazed, 
 And agony exhausted, spent. 
 
 O Love, thou tenderly restored. 
 Expanded, beautified, endowed 
 
 With powers for thy sweet reward, 
 And all thy shining Soul allowed: — 
 
 O Love exempted, pass and see 
 Thyself a portion of the sight 
 
 Glowing with rapid brilliancy. 
 And glittering in fond delight. 
 
 Thou art, O Heart, with Spirit made 
 One of the sweet, assembled throng, 
 
 And what thou seest, swiftly displayed, 
 Is but the brightness shall belong 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 65 
 
 Within thee, for thou art indeed 
 Mysteriously wrapped in thy Soul 
 
 Again, and ever round thee speed 
 Thy lightning joys, and round thee roll 
 
 Great clouds of color and content, 
 Bearing their mighty wings a-wide, 
 
 Ever with newness resplendent, 
 And ever in fresh glory dyed. 
 
 For there embosomed shalt thou see 
 Deeper and deeper thy delight, 
 
 With colors kept a-wait for thee 
 To penetrate in keener sight: — 
 
 And there are incandescent things 
 Of exquisite, ennobling shade, 
 
 And there a wondrous virtue flings 
 Abroad its powers, richly displayed. 
 
66 So7igs of the Spwit, 
 
 For these lie out again for thee, 
 Stronger, O Spirit, that thou hast 
 
 Re-entered on the heraldry 
 Of thine ancestral, happy past. 
 
 Thy past re-pictured in thy gaze 
 Burningly set on yonder high 
 
 Exulting prospect, that displays 
 Grandly an ancient panoply. 
 
 Thou seest in thine heritage 
 Of being such intensified 
 
 Expanse, and thitherward engage 
 Thy longings ever magnified — 
 
 And endless harmonies of light. 
 That are devout, serenely pure, 
 
 With them, O Spirit, in thy right 
 Of company thou shalt endure. 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 67 
 
 Look out, O Spirit, from thy place 
 Of passage with attentive eyes, 
 
 Thou seest thy surprising grace 
 Of completeness, and canst devise 
 
 Abundantly thy beauty spread 
 With visual perfectness, and fair 
 
 Extensive happiness instead 
 Of all thine old, abundant care. 
 
 Within thee blossom and unfold 
 
 Thy gorgeous consciousness, and hope 
 
 To gather still thy fruits of old, 
 And see again their richness ope. 
 
 O Soul, there fervidly arise 
 Translations of thy purest sense. 
 
 Thousand and thousand brilliancies 
 Succeed with eagerness intense: — 
 
68 So7igs of the Spirit, 
 
 For they shall be unto thyself 
 Instinctive, and their majesties, 
 
 With all their destiny of wealth, 
 Adapted to thy sacred eyes. 
 
 Thou hast descended, Spirit, far 
 
 On downward wings, and didst alight 
 
 On a changed Earth, as on a star 
 Distempered of its happy light: — 
 
 But now thou standest to upraise 
 Thy pinions and float out afar, 
 
 Like to a golden cloud that plays 
 Within itself, and yields a star. 
 
 For thou shalt glitter and display 
 All the unclouded Soul that kept 
 
 Its secret undisturbed away 
 While in the night thy vision slept. 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 69 
 
 In darkness closeted, O Soul, 
 Thou wert a-wonder how, displaced, 
 
 Should pass thy heart's imprinted dole, 
 And bloom thy loveliness defaced: — 
 
 But thou art touched in transport fine 
 And blossomest where'er thou art. 
 
 Clothed with repeated splendors shine 
 Thy Soul and thy terrestrial part. 
 
 Thou art so passionately stirred 
 Thou standest with thy wavering feet 
 
 Upstarting, as of one who heard 
 Within thee speech and Spirit meet. 
 
 Thou seest as a part, afar. 
 Sublimely weak, but still endued 
 
 With sweet, perceptive things that are 
 Of those that all thyself include. 
 
70 Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 Because thou hast impassioned wept 
 Amid thy weakness, and bewailed 
 
 All the disordered days that kept 
 Their closeness in thy path assailed ;- 
 
 Because the trembling of thy feet 
 Went wearily, and sorrow hung 
 
 So low thy roadway could not meet 
 Delight, but to the darkness clung; — 
 
 Because of this, O Soul a-wide 
 With virtue, knowledge, and arrayed 
 
 In wisdom, thou hast joy denied 
 So long — and now so long displayed. 
 
 Thou hast attained the perfect sight 
 And searching of thy Spirit eyes, 
 
 Thou read' St thy shining laws aright, 
 And failure from thy vision flies. 
 
Songs of the Spirit 7i 
 
 For thou art portion, seeing writ 
 Thyself a letter in the theme, 
 
 Await for glory, watching it, 
 Thou art transfigured in its gleam. 
 
 O Paradise! O Love dismayed ! 
 
 Return, thou Wanderer divine, 
 No more thy gentle orbs afraid 
 
 Of tears are full, but brightly shine. 
 
 Thy long, unconquerable spell. 
 In sorrow and to grief assigned, 
 
 Is gone, thy Soul goes out the well 
 Besought deliverance, consigned 
 
 Unto the beauty of its own 
 
 Expanding, and thy yielding heart, 
 O Love, with all its treasures known 
 
 Follows but only what thou art. 
 
72 Songs of the Spirit 
 
 Descending is a Spirit come 
 Touching thy consciousness anew; 
 
 This Holy Traveler from the dome 
 Of Heaven administering flew: — 
 
 He telleth of a new increase 
 Grown for thy vision, and displayed 
 
 O'er thy horizon, and release 
 Of longing for thy succor made. 
 
 Thou art not prisoner, detained 
 In terrible distress of speech, 
 
 Already freedom's wings have gained 
 For thee their swift, encircling reach. 
 
 Already what thou hast not been, 
 With all thy wings unconscious furled, 
 
 The sweet eyes of thy Soul have seen 
 Ascending o'er her darkened world. 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 73 
 
 Thou hast walked separate, alone, 
 Impossibly beseeching rest. 
 
 But now thy tender heart hath gone 
 But as an imaging impressed 
 
 On what she seeketh, and in air 
 Sublimely tempered for thy ways, 
 
 Already now, O creature fair, 
 Is Joy delivered of thy days. 
 
 In tears, unhidden tears, delayed. 
 Thine only and unmeasured end 
 
 Rested within a Voice that said 
 Its messages a-flight to send 
 
 Their radiating knowledge far; 
 
 Within the message art thou found, 
 O Love, a listener on the star 
 
 Of Earth, and in the mighty round 
 J 
 
74 
 
 So7igs of the Spirit. 
 
 Of worlds aside art furnished 
 
 With being for thy sweet increase, 
 
 Because thou art absolved, instead 
 Of wanting thou abid'st in peace. 
 
 O Spirit, breaking Time and Place, 
 What is the passage unto thee ? 
 
 Thou fliest through intensest Space, 
 And penetrating rhapsody 
 
 Of an hereafter breaks aglow 
 In thine admission on the star 
 
 Whose longings infinitely go 
 
 Beyond the boundaries where they are. 
 
 Spirit in Spirit shall abide: 
 
 Earth floats in her ancestral sea 
 
 Of Spirit, and that viewless tide 
 Bears on her courses hastily. 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 75 
 
 Fly out, O Love, and stretch thy wing 
 Earliest above th' imprinted wave, 
 
 Where hues of Heaven descend and cling 
 On Earth, entrancing what she gave. 
 
 There, living on that vivid sea, 
 Love, like an Angel, fans the air 
 
 With pinions that have swept the free 
 Regions remote from her despair. 
 
 She is a-new — doubly upborne, 
 Thou hast not seen her in the days 
 
 Of desperate Earth, no face hath worn 
 Her look where visage doubly plays. 
 
 Go down, go down unto the shore. 
 Look out upon the lightening sea, 
 
 Its placid offering before 
 Hath spread those treasures silently. 
 
76 Songs of the Spwit. 
 
 Long, long ago, thyself hath stood 
 
 Idly debating on the shore, 
 What shadow now shall e'er intrude 
 
 On light those ancient waves restore ? 
 
 Thine is the sea, the waves belong 
 To the full Earth, and unto thee 
 
 Its breast is open; press the strong 
 Throb of its bosom willingly. 
 
 Held to its heaving heart the Soul 
 Draws nurture; see! divinely free 
 
 Over that endless aspect roll 
 Magnificence — Eternity. 
 
PARADISE: PART SECOND. 
 
 'T'O be a part of Beauty, and sustained 
 
 Within its halo, and to recognize 
 Divinely all its glory as regained 
 
 In the quick vision of uncovered eyes: — 
 
 To know the sunken and disastrous, slow 
 Beclouded burden of my perilous way 
 
 Drew wide its darkness, and its overflow, 
 Because that sightless orbs would still betray: 
 
78 Songs of the Sph'it. 
 
 To pierce with passionate ardor, and design 
 Of seizing, all the heavy shade that lies 
 
 Enveloping, and with the sight combine 
 That ever hither comes, is Paradise. 
 
 Out of The Spirit that portrays shall grow 
 Unanswerably its fashion on the eyes 
 
 Of gazing men — shaping their glances, show 
 Its glimpses, and thy gleams, O Paradise. 
 
 Not in forgotten outlook, with unknown 
 Beatitude designed in formless grace, 
 
 O Paradise, thy glories are our own 
 With all their knowledge breathing on thy face! 
 
 Thy countenance with wisdom, and divine 
 
 Adoption of thy secret purpose, is 
 Displayed unhidden as thy movements shine 
 
 Perfect in consciousness — perfect in bliss. 
 
Sdngs of the Spirit. 79 
 
 Thine is the wide, mysterious power that drives 
 Darkness to nothingness, and distance lies 
 
 Bound up with insight in the light that lives 
 Forever where the Soul accepted flies. 
 
 O Paradise, thy breathing stirs the air 
 Floating with golden clouds of Earth on high 
 
 Entablatures of glor>^, and their fair 
 Exquisiteness is in thy masonry. 
 
 Thine are the crimsoned harbingers that burst 
 From out their secret sources to proclaim 
 
 Nativity of beauty, and dispersed 
 Round their horizons wide assert thy name. 
 
 Thy passionate appearance of delight 
 Abides in waiting, till the eyes shall glow 
 
 In answering earnestness, until the light 
 Of Spirits pierce their prisons' overthrow. 
 
8o Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 Thou stretchest in thy country's bounds apace 
 Over the shores of Earth, and sinking seas 
 
 Of many a desolately tortured place 
 Gleam in the glor>' of thy soft increase. 
 
 Thou waitest with thy splendid fringes cast 
 In finest radiance o'er the wind and cloud, 
 
 And O, with what intensest brilliance last 
 
 The visions where thy glittering flashes crowd. 
 
 Thou art not, Paradise, removed and far, 
 Remotely distant from our anguished eyes, 
 
 See there, O Spirit, these expressions are 
 Drawn from her heavenly and fair supplies. 
 
 There is her beauty, and her tender sense 
 Of lovingness, and her still hands arrayed 
 
 In succor linger, longing to dispense 
 Over the Soul her comforts there delayed. 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 8i 
 
 Thou art, O Paradise, a Radiance sent, 
 Divinely purposed and divinely clad, 
 
 On thine attirement hath The Spirit spent 
 Its making, and perfection makes thee glad. 
 
 Sent from the judgment of The Spirit's sense 
 Thou walkest, and thy gentle, patient face, 
 
 With all its beauty, hath that impress whence 
 The Spirit looketh from its secret place. 
 
 Thou art defended, for thou wearest guise 
 Of Immortality, and hath bestowed 
 
 All the impregnable unknown that lies 
 In Spirit whence thy sacred being flowed. 
 
 But thou, so beautiful, aside, unknown, 
 Unto the thousand, thousand eyes afar, 
 
 Dwelt in thy mystery; thine aspect shone 
 On Earth but beauty on a whirling star. 
 
82 Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 Thy Spirit, and thy panoply displayed, 
 Hung but as curtains on a moving air, 
 
 Lost palpitations of thy being made 
 No movement in the veins of grief and care. 
 
 Thou wert a-weary, anxious and oppressed, 
 In all thy nearness and in all thy grace, 
 
 Lo, to the lifting of thine hands distressed 
 Cometh the speech of His exquisite Face. 
 
 Quick, wonderful, thy bursting joy divine. 
 The fleetness of thy footsteps, and the sight 
 
 Of thine uncovered mysteries, that shine 
 Outstarting in their glorifying flight. 
 
 In those unceasing steps sustained and led, 
 Walking appareled of thy fair array, 
 
 Lo, in all darkness still thy name is said. 
 And thou, thou standest still in every way! 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 85 
 
 Thou art, O Paradise, set in the ways 
 Of listening Earth, and ever in her eyes 
 
 Thy face with its angehc ardor plays. 
 And fast before thy beauty doubting flies. 
 
 Thou shalt thine own upgathering bestow, 
 And go and leave thy precious gifts outcast; 
 
 The rapid splendors of thy garments glow 
 On every outlook where thy feet have passed. 
 
 And so forever, with increasing shade 
 
 Of vivifying certainty, and gleam 
 Of thy supplanting glory, intermade 
 
 In every outburst of thy changeless theme. 
 
 Beauty and purity, and long, profound. 
 All passionate adornment of the Soul 
 
 In each exquisite symbol, an the sound 
 Of the long anthems that within thee roll 
 
84 So7tgs of the Spirit. 
 
 With silent music upon silent ears, 
 
 And, more than any, the great joy that takes 
 The ancient fonts of all unfinished tears 
 
 And of their waters crystal grandeur makes. 
 
 Descend, descend, O walk in changeless Day! 
 
 My Paradise thou art a child of Light! 
 I hide me in thy visions, and alway 
 
 Watch out within their fairness time and night 
 
 There is no dark shall dim thee, and no toil 
 Found in an Earth of furrows, and no care 
 
 From any cloud descending taught to soil 
 The virtue of thine ever-living air. 
 
 Within thy joys I see, and feel the eyes 
 Sink to a source of beauty, and distil 
 
 Themselves within a sweetness, and arise 
 Part of thy purpose and thy gentle will. 
 
Songs of the Sph'it. 85 
 
 Part of thy undulations and unknown 
 Expressions yielding up their endless rest, 
 
 Part of an equal, fervent Life, that sown 
 With answer sows thee equal in the quest. 
 
 I can not compass and arrange thy way, 
 I go a-journeying, bidden into thee, 
 
 I step upon thy roads, whose gates betray 
 But glimpses of magnificent entry. 
 
 Can I, exclaiming in a wondering phrase 
 
 Of jubilation at thy earliest sight, 
 Can I surround thy glory, and appraise 
 
 Thine outposts glittering in extended light ? 
 
 O Paradise, I know not whither go 
 Thy messengers of glory, and no more 
 
 What paths outflying shall my Spirit flow 
 On clouds of thine, that rest by mortal shore. 
 
86 Songs of the Spirit 
 
 Receive me, with my outstretched wings I fly 
 Gently, O gently into thy domain, 
 
 Bear up, O bear my wavering pinions, I 
 Tnist all my being to thy sheltering name. 
 
 I go unto thy country and thy Lord, 
 None knowing but the Sentinel who stands 
 
 At the receiving Gate, can I afford 
 To claim the compass of thy blessed lands ? 
 
 Lo, in the circuit of those distant wings 
 I fly where thou shalt bear me, and divine 
 
 Whate'er thou tellest, and my passion sings 
 What words are spoken in thyself to mine. 
 
 Thou and thy Lord, and I inhabitant, 
 O Paradise, I know enough to be 
 
 Smitten to heart with one exulting want, 
 Blazing within my Spirit's alchemy. 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 87 
 
 The want, the need, the passionate desire, 
 The yearning, bursting pain of heart and Soul, 
 
 In thy pellucid atmosphere, and higher, 
 Beyond thee, where thy wishes gently roll, 
 
 To be a Vision of ascending things. 
 
 And, them receiving, gaze until my eyes 
 
 Draw my Soul onward, and my Spirit flings 
 Itself where thou wast nurtured. Paradise. 
 
SONG OF THE SPIRIT. 
 
 T AM a Spirit, floating on, 
 
 My danger and my darkness done: 
 Into an open Sea I glide. 
 Within the cloud, within its tide: 
 Round the Sea's rim light clouds hang low, 
 And round its circuit drifting go. 
 I can not stand upon the shore 
 To traverse that wide water o'er: 
 However desperately my eyes 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 Are anxious of the light that lies 
 Unbosomed on the earnest deep, 
 I can not have it while I keep 
 My passion pacing out the land, 
 And so I leave thee, helpless strand. 
 I glide and glide: O the sweet view 
 Of all I knew not and I knew: 
 No more with slow, untempered wings 
 My Spirit lingers, but it flings 
 Itself where music waiting sings. 
 Ring out, O Voices compassed well. 
 Ring out thy conquering tones and tell 
 My Spirit in thy Spirits' tongue 
 What joys I see and thou hast sung. 
 To see! to see! who would not wait 
 Leagues of a long-drawn sun, and late 
 By every mom and every shore 
 To see at last, and wait no more! 
 
90 Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 My Soul, with thine imploring eyes 
 Made in the need of Paradise, 
 Delay, and gathering hold the rays 
 Burnishing ever}' prospect's ways, 
 Slowly within thy fluttering breast, 
 O longing heart look out and rest! 
 There is no need that thou shouldst fly 
 In eager, wild rapidit\'; 
 There is no need that thou shouldst keep 
 Watch stealthily as sorrows creep, 
 Without a change and without haste, 
 Out of their caverns and their waste 
 And stop where thou art helpless placed. 
 Sorrow is heavy, and must roll 
 Below thy footsteps, O my Soul: 
 At last thou art, thou radiant thing. 
 End of thy passion's desiring, 
 Delivered like a wild being, 
 
So}i^s of the Spirit. 
 
 Rapidly whirling and circling, 
 
 Breaks from the angered cords and fast 
 
 Darts out its tether and its past 
 
 Far out, far out, beating to free 
 
 Thy flight, thou struggled desperately: 
 
 Swiftly the rushing of thy wings 
 
 Sprang outward, and thy freedom clings, 
 
 Ever rejoicing, sailing through 
 
 The splendid world it struggled to. 
 
 Sorrow was in thy Soul that hung 
 
 Compelled on the dark Orb that clung 
 
 Mysteriously upon its road 
 
 Of bondage, with mysterious load. 
 
 Into the World's sad days of shade 
 
 Thy passionate appealing made 
 
 Its glimmer, and, unstartled, flew 
 
 On rapid wng thy Spirit through. 
 
 Stand still: let the slow mists arise 
 
 91 
 
92 Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 Of sweetness in entroubled eyes — 
 This is the sun of Paradise. 
 There is not one, a cloud of care 
 Hung in the heavens anywhere: 
 There is not one, no loveliness 
 That thou hast longed for in distress, 
 Not clinging, with its light caress, 
 O'er anything it would impress. 
 Many the cold, unbelieving eye 
 Crossed in its storm-cloud on thy sky; 
 Many the low and wintry word 
 Muffled thy human heart that heard; 
 Many, O Soul, stood changeless by 
 Thine issuing: when thou shouldst die 
 Innumerable stretch out to close 
 Thy vision in its dark repose. 
 O Spirit, thou hast fled a-blaze 
 Far from the lands their darkness stays: 
 
Songs of the Spirit 93 
 
 Thou wert indeed of Time, but why 
 Should Time condemn thee vacantly ? 
 Into its sun of circling days 
 Thou waked and slept: alternate rays 
 Flashed on thy Soul as lightning plays, 
 And darkness robs the quivering gaze. 
 But now thou art disrobed of night 
 And standest flashing in the light: 
 No more the heavy circle clings. 
 Of vesture, on thy Soul that flings 
 Her desperate beams, anxiously wild 
 To burst or blind her guards beguiled. 
 At last! O Spirit what a wing 
 Sails outward as thy circles swing 
 Their heavenly courses, and alight 
 On stops of glittering, sacred sight! 
 Thou couldst not gather, couldst not sing 
 This passion of thy surrounding; 
 
94 Songs of the Spirit 
 
 Thou couldst not loosen in the world 
 These instant wings, wafting unfurled; 
 How couldst thou speak sufficiently ? 
 O this the being, being free — 
 Released from hope in radiancy! 
 Sail on: there is no sea of storm, 
 No tempest rock, to strike thy form: 
 Long in its casemate burned aglow 
 Thy Spirit, but its vanished flow 
 Shines out on that tremendous sea 
 That rolls in light continually. 
 Thou art not one of those who stand 
 Spectred and faintly on the strand: 
 On its wild edge of long distress 
 Their shades diminish and grow less, 
 And fail and sink to nothingness. 
 Their gleams burn faintly as the years 
 Of cold delay, and doubt, and tears 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 95 
 
 Pass by them, heaping up the brine 
 Of all their wretchedness and thine. 
 My Spirit, when that burning Sea 
 Broke on thyself mysteriously, 
 Mysteriously beyond the gloom 
 Of Earth a-chill within her tomb, 
 Deep with thy feet into the flow 
 Of its long currents didst thou go, 
 Standing and wavering, waiting there 
 Till they should rise, and outward bear 
 Thy Spirit, and thy Spirit's eyes 
 Gleamed as the mighty breakers rise. 
 Swept outward, with the winds upraised 
 Thou art borne onward, pleased, amazed: 
 Tell me, my Spirit, why, O why 
 Can such as thou strangely deny 
 The long and luminous things that lie 
 Stretched out to their obscurity ? 
 
96 So7igs of the Spirit. 
 
 Wert thou of different life from these, 
 How came thy wonderful increase ? 
 Why have they pain and thou hast peace ? 
 There is not one in all the shore, 
 Wrapped in the waves' incessant roar, 
 Who hath not in his bitter eyes, 
 Pain, and her silent, stifled cries. 
 And yet, O Soul, if they should glide 
 An instant on this brilliant tide, 
 Be lifted, with its winds supplied, 
 And see one vision of its wide 
 Revolving glow and gorgeousness. 
 There is not one could know distress. 
 It is impossible to be 
 Freighted with pain upon this Sea: 
 Some things belong to some, and there 
 Are things not nurtured everywhere — 
 Have suns a night to dream despair? 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 97 
 
 So, whoso peopleth this Sea 
 
 Is perfectly and placidly 
 
 Fixed into Joy's identity. 
 
 Should the dark Spirit stand to care 
 
 In questioning, to be aware 
 
 There is not pain nor sorrow there ? 
 
 Have pain and shadow grown so dear 
 
 The Soul should separate not for fear. 
 
 Out of what losing ? Or abide 
 
 With them ? Poor Spirits — chained, belied. 
 
 And yet they stand: they can not see 
 
 The cloudless air, they will not be 
 
 Drawn from the shores of misery. 
 
 Dash on, eternal, dreadful Sea, 
 
 Break on thy bounds unceasingly: 
 
 There is upon thy changeless roar 
 
 An endless strain; increasing pour 
 
 Thy billows on the sinking shore. 
 
98 Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 Thou art the Monarch, and shalt ride 
 Deep with the Earth within thy tide: 
 
 how thy mighty waves shall strain 
 The banks of Time, and grain by grain 
 Draw what thou keepest for thy gain. 
 Where are thy depths ? O Sea, below 
 Thy bosom is a fearful flow, 
 
 And dreadfully thy soundings go. 
 
 1 am a Spirit, floating on, 
 
 My danger and my darkness done: 
 Into an open Sea I glide. 
 Within its cloud, within its tide: 
 O yielding Sea, O air of balm, 
 Intensest peace, impassioned calm, 
 How can my Spirit quivering be 
 Replete with all thine ecstacy ? 
 Long, long ago I yearned to be 
 Out — sailing somewhere on this Sea: 
 
Songs of the Spirit. 99 
 
 I yearned, and dreamed, and felt arise 
 
 A new desire, a swift surmise, 
 
 As one in many mysteries: 
 
 I dreamed, and saw, and moved upon 
 
 Thy bosom, not myself alone. 
 
 Lo, in the circuit of this Sea 
 
 I am the thing dreamed anciently: 
 
 Whatever else sails in the sun. 
 
 Mysteriously, of this kingdom, 
 
 I am the being my Soul said 
 
 Could be, I am this being made. 
 
 Who standeth sinking in the shore 
 
 Of a dead Earth, and cries, "No more, 
 
 No Soul can rise, no being be 
 
 Not known of us, we can not see! " 
 
 Say on, say on: while I fulfil 
 
 My heart, my purpose, and my will. 
 
 Thy work is doubt, and doubting still. 
 
loo Songs of the Spirit. 
 
 Another speech, another tongue 
 Flames in my Soul; whate'er I sung 
 Of its vibrations all was rung. 
 It is not possible to stay 
 This flaming speech, that far away 
 Hears loud what it can faintly say. 
 Out of the sounding echo goes 
 This leaping flame, who can oppose 
 Its passage, who its virtue knows ? 
 
 happy feet that fled the shore, 
 The land is dim, if the waves pour 
 Their wrath, and all their steady roar, 
 
 1 can not hear nor see them more.