X 
 
DESTINY 
 
 AND 
 
 OTHER POEMS 
 
 M. J. SERRANO 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS 
 
 27 & 29 WEST 23D STREET 
 1S82 
 
or3V 
 
 Copyright by 
 
 M. J. SERRANO 
 
 1883 
 
 Press of 
 
 G. P. Putnaffi's Sons 
 
 New York 
 
DESTINY. 
 
 A POEM IN FOUR CANTOS. 
 
 eveXniSai eivai npo-, rov davarov^ nai ev ii 
 rovro diarosladai aXrfOe'^y on ovk e(jrir ardpi 
 cxyaOd) naiior ovdhr^ ovre C(2)vri ovre rskevr?]- 
 
 GaVTL. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE, 
 
 Destiny 
 
 
 
 
 
 Canto First . . - , . i 
 
 Canto Second 
 
 
 
 
 . 24 
 
 Canto Third 
 
 
 
 
 . 6l 
 
 Canto Fourth 
 
 
 
 
 . 98 
 
 Cybele . 
 
 
 
 
 . 131 
 
 Autumn Days . 
 
 
 
 
 . 138 
 
 Despondency 
 
 
 
 
 . 143 
 
 Invocation to Death 
 
 
 
 
 . 146 
 
 Freedom and Love 
 
 
 
 
 149 
 
 Ode to Valor . 
 
 
 
 
 151 
 
 Lines 
 
 
 
 
 154 
 
 Serenade (From the Spanish) 
 
 
 
 157 
 
 To a Mother, on the Death of a 
 
 YOUNC 
 
 5 
 
 
 Married Daughter 
 
 
 
 159 
 
 Dirge . . . . 
 
 
 
 164 
 
 Captivity 
 
 
 
 167 
 
 Lines to an Exotic Plant , 
 
 
 
 172 
 
 To a Husband .... 
 
 
 
 175 
 
 Aspirations . . . , 
 
 
 
 178 
 
 Contentment (A Riddle) 
 
 
 
 182 
 
 Nature's Secret 
 
 , , 
 
 
 
 185 
 
DESTINY. 
 
 CANTO FIRST. 
 
 OFTLY blue the May-day sky 
 Roofs in bright serenity 
 Forest-aisles and hill-sides green, 
 And sunny vales that stretch between ; 
 And every living thing that takes 
 Its nourishment from Nature, wakes 
 To busy life : the insect brood 
 Break from their death-like solitude, 
 Each its appointed part to play 
 In Earth's bright, transient holiday ; 
 With living sap the young buds swell. 
 That flows in silence to each cell, 
 Responsive to the genial power ' 
 That forms the fruit and paints the flower ; 
 
DESTINY. 
 
 And ev^ery tint that greets the eye — 
 
 The soft blue of the tranquil sky ; 
 
 The silver of the morning dew ; 
 
 The young leaf 's green ; the rosy hue 
 
 Of apple-blossoms, blent with white ; 
 
 The very sunbeam's golden light, 
 
 So fresh, so pure, and tender, seem 
 
 Of Youth and Paradise a dream. 
 
 O happy Season ! dedicate 
 
 To Hope, bright Opponent of Fate, 
 
 Still cast thy dear enchantments round 
 
 Young hearts for whom Life's goal is crowned 
 
 With sacred Love's immortal wreath. 
 
 Or Fame's, the Conqueror of Death. 
 
 Still breathe soft airs with magic fraught. 
 
 From some serener planet caught, 
 
 That in the soul harmonious strife 
 
 Stir, to ennoble human life — 
 
 To Earth thy heaven-caught charm transfuse ; 
 
 Feed with thy sunshine and thy dews 
 
 Each bud of promise that for me. 
 
 With fruitless bloom has crowned Life's tree. 
 
DESTINY. 
 
 To none shall Hope her fairy tale 
 More softly on the perfumed gale 
 Whisper, in strains that thrill the soul 
 Like voices, from Life's distant goal, 
 Than, silver-sweet she whispers now 
 To Clarence, who, with lifted brow 
 Bared to the breeze, and kindling eye 
 Fixed on the splendors of the sky. 
 Interprets to his bosom's friend. 
 In words of fire, with sighs that blend, 
 The charmed tones, that by his birth. 
 Proclaim him Lord of all the Earth ; 
 And calls him by the sacred name 
 Of Man, their heritage to claim : 
 " For us," he cries, ''does Earth unfold 
 The mysteries her recesses hold ; 
 For us her secret treasures keep 
 Through countless ages silent sleep, 
 Until from out the sunless mine 
 Man's voice shall call them forth to shine ; 
 Their hidden virtues herb and stone 
 Shall yield to him ; his sway shall own 
 The elements ; his hand shall wrest 
 
DESTINY. 
 
 Her secrets from the unwilling breast 
 Of Protean Nature, held in chains, 
 Till, weary of each form she feigns, 
 IRevealed in her true shape she stands, 
 'Obedient to her Lord's commands, 
 Of future triumphs Prophetess, 
 In realms that shall his rule confess." 
 
 Here Ernest spoke : " And Clarence, all 
 
 The generations to whose call 
 
 For light to tread the obscure ways 
 
 Of Nature's labyrinthine maze 
 
 A deaf, cold ear she still hath turned — 
 
 What did they lack that we have earned, 
 
 Or by our birthright hold, that Fate 
 
 Should ope for us the magic Gate 
 
 Beyond whose charmed threshold lie 
 
 Her glory and her mystery ? 
 
 No ! Man may catch some pregnant word, 
 
 In Nature's symphony half-heard — 
 
 Of all her treasures on some gem 
 
 May chance, but of her diadem 
 
 The wondrous splendor to behold, — 
 
DESTINY. 
 
 Herself through all her manifold 
 
 And ever-changing forms to trace, 
 
 Till bare she st^nd ; and face to face 
 
 Hold converse with her in the speech 
 
 Herself alone can fitly teach, — 
 
 This were to hold of Life and Death 
 
 The secrets — this immortal breath 
 
 To breathe ; and here it is not given 
 
 To Man to grasp the powers of Heaven.'* 
 
 " O Ernest ! seek not to destroy 
 
 Of life the glory and the joy," 
 
 Clarence impetuous cried. " How poor 
 
 A boon were" Being — to endure 
 
 The sorrow, bitterness, and strife 
 
 Of Earth, with Death at last, had life 
 
 No higher aim than day by day. 
 
 To chase the fleeting hours away 
 
 In cares that perish with the hour. 
 
 No ! Man has here a nobler dower 
 
 Than petty interests of the earth. 
 
 That end where they have had their birth. 
 
 Nature, Interpreter of God, 
 
DESTINY. 
 
 Speaks from her secret haunts, untrod 
 
 By foot of man, and bids him climb 
 
 Upward, and scale the heights where Time 
 
 Has reared his barriers between 
 
 The Visible and the Unseen ; 
 
 She bids him see, in star or flower, 
 
 A symbol of Almighty Power, 
 
 Whose care no meanest thing disdains ; 
 
 Whose might the firmament sustains ; 
 
 Whose wisdom formed the wondrous plan. 
 
 The crown and end of which is Man." 
 
 ^' Shall Man," said Ernest, " dare to claim 
 Of God's most noble work the name. 
 While in blind folly he exceeds 
 The brute that in his service bleeds 
 While Hatred, Envy, Pride, maintain 
 The sway that Virtue seeks in vain 
 To hold within his breast ? Shall he 
 Dare strive to pierce the mystery 
 Which shrouds the awful Hand that holds 
 The scales of Life and Death ; that moulds 
 Planets and suns, and in their course 
 
DESTINY. 
 
 Keeps them with undiminished force 
 From all Eternity ? The fire 
 That lights the stars, dare he aspire 
 With spiritual sight to grasp, 
 Whose widest vision scarce can clasp 
 The potency of one poor ray 
 Lost in the common light of day ? " 
 
 *' O Ernest ! they who from the Past 
 The glory of their names have cast, 
 A beacon-light throughout all Time 
 *To guide us to the heights sublime 
 Where Fame sits throned — heroes and saints 
 And giant minds, the elements 
 That brought into subjection — they 
 Make answer that our common clay 
 Is tempered with some spark Divine, 
 That still reveals its origin. 
 And yet, too well I know that here, 
 An exile from her native sphere. 
 The Soul forgets to plume her wings 
 Ofttimes, amidst the meaner things 
 Of this, her cage, content to take 
 
DESTINY. 
 
 Her ease, and fellowship to make 
 
 Enduring, with her transient mate, 
 
 Unmindful of her high estate. 
 
 And to the earnest soul alone 
 
 Will Science yield her starry throne, 
 
 And sceptre, tipped with living light, 
 
 To rule o'er men in Wisdom's right; 
 
 To him alone will Art reveal 
 
 Her Wonderland ; for him unseal 
 
 The urn that holds the draft divine 
 
 Of Inspiration's sacred wine. 
 
 For the sincere and earnest soul * 
 
 Alone, will Liberty unroll 
 
 Her sacred banner, all ablaze 
 
 W^ith stars that draw their kindling rays 
 
 From the Eternal Source of light, 
 
 That shall at last of Error's night 
 
 Consume the darkness, and disclose 
 
 The spring whence living Virtue flows — = 
 
 The Soul, disdaining lower flights. 
 
 That, like the eagle, seeks the heights 
 
 Where purer air its life shall feed, 
 
 And wider, nobler prospects, freed 
 
DESTINY. 
 
 From earth-born mist that sluggish reigns, 
 And cold upon life's lower planes. 
 Then upward be our vision cast, 
 Onward and upward, till at last 
 From Truth's clear heights we may survey 
 The regions of Eternal Day. 
 And standing in that light serene. 
 Where clouds no longer intervene, 
 To mock the eye with hues unreal, 
 Behold Humanity's Ideal. 
 ^Then shall the Soul, her dross consumed 
 By those pure beams, stand forth, illumed, 
 Transfigured in the awful light 
 That vivifies the Infinite. 
 Oh ! worthy then the sacred hope 
 To nourish, those who bHndly grope 
 In darkness, by the hand to lead 
 To regions whose delights exceed 
 The pleasures of the Sense, as far 
 As the pure ray of some bright star 
 Excels the glowworm's feeble spark, 
 That fitful glimmers in the dark. 
 This hope be ours, O Friend ! to free 
 
10 DESTINY. 
 
 From bondage blind Humanity. 
 
 The chains that Force imposed, at first, 
 
 And Cowardice and Sloth have nursed 
 
 In willing slavery, to break. 
 
 Some slumbering spark divine to wake 
 
 In souls th' impress Divine that bear 
 
 No longer, deathless souls should wear — 
 
 Souls to redeem, in bonds more vile, 
 
 Bound to their passions, that defile 
 
 God's chosen temple, and obscure 
 
 Of Truth's undying lamp the pure, 
 
 Clear light, with smoke of unclean fires. 
 
 At whose hot breath all Good expires — 
 
 Tyrants, content the slaves to be 
 
 Of Sin's debasing tyranny." 
 
 He paused : " The joy indeed were worth 
 
 All other joys this smiling Earth 
 
 The Eden of regenerate Man 
 
 To see," said Ernest. " Life's short span 
 
 Were nobly spent in shattering 
 
 The idols to whose worship cling 
 
 Mankind in blind idolatrv ; 
 
DESTINY. II 
 
 In teaching Man himself to free 
 
 From bonds of ignorance and sin ; 
 
 Through his own striving light to win ; 
 
 Lust of Dominion to forego ; 
 
 Some joyless life to enrich, although 
 
 His own be poorer for the gift ; 
 
 Some soul in suffering steeped, to lift 
 
 Again into the upper air ; 
 
 In charity and love to bear 
 
 The frailties common to our weak 
 
 And erring nature ; swift to seek 
 
 Faults in himself that late he sees 
 
 In others, but more swift in these 
 
 Than in himself absolves ; to be 
 
 True, just, and clement — destiny 
 
 Worthy our origin and end, 
 
 The allotment of our days to spend 
 
 In this most sacred task : but vain 
 
 The hope the extinction to attain 
 
 On Earth of Evil. In some star 
 
 Remote, whose portals shall unbar 
 
 The hand of Death, these dreams may find 
 
 Fulfilment ; but the chains that bind 
 
12 DESTINY. 
 
 The souls of men, each for himself must break ; 
 
 No outward force can stir to life the germ 
 
 That quickens not within ; nor wake 
 
 The seed to bloom before the appointed term. 
 
 Did our Divine Redeemer leave 
 
 Humanity confirmed in Good, 
 
 When for our sins His sacred blood 
 
 He chose upon the cross to give ? 
 
 Did even the Twelve His sacred voice who heard, 
 
 His Countenance Divine who looked upon, 
 
 To their high destiny by Him preferred 
 
 From all Mankind ; upon whose footsteps shone, 
 
 Of Supreme Love and Wisdom at their source. 
 
 The light divine — did these all keep their course 
 
 Straight in the narrow path ? O friend ! 
 
 Shall our weak human words transcend 
 
 The Word Divine in soul-awakening power ? 
 
 Evil and Good — these are the potent dower 
 
 From whose opposing forces we must draw 
 
 Strength by the very effort to control 
 
 Death-bearing Evil to the Eternal Law 
 
 Of Good. In this must lie our sole 
 
 Hope of attaining Virtue ; and the strife 
 
DESTINY. 13 
 
 Each for himself must wage ; and each his life, 
 
 Not by the victory alone must count, 
 
 But by the combat also, in accord 
 
 With its true purpose spent. The Word 
 
 Omnipotent, that from the fount 
 
 Of uncreated Virtue called 
 
 The Heavens into being, and the Earth ; 
 
 And in their places Sun and Moon installed— 
 
 Could not this Force Omnipotent, at birth, 
 
 Virtue with life to every soul have given, 
 
 At once perfected, had He not designed 
 
 By Earth's stern discipline to fit for Heaven 
 
 And Immortality, our nature blind 
 
 And torpid, till, by throes of suffering rent. 
 
 The soul cast off her outworn shell. 
 
 The vital powers that in her dwell, 
 
 In barren darkness that had pent ? 
 
 Yes ; in His Image made, to Man He gave 
 
 Of His creative power a part ; 
 
 And placed, of Good and Evil in his heart 
 
 The germs, that he might choose. The slave 
 
 Or puppet of His Will He made him not, 
 
 But free to follow or to break the laws 
 
14 DESTINY. 
 
 Immutable of his being. Of his lot 
 
 He is himself the Shaper ; and the cause 
 
 Of Good or Evil to himself. Be sad, 
 
 Because of sin and suffering, no more. 
 
 Therefore, O Clarence ! nor aspire to pour 
 
 The treasure of thy young heart's blood, a glad 
 
 And willing sacrifice, upon 
 
 The altar of thy Faith ; for none, 
 
 But by the travail of his soul, can grow 
 
 In wisdom or in goodness ; and as each 
 
 Must pass through infancy, before he reach 
 
 The stature of a man, so, by a slow 
 
 And gradual growth must every Soul attain 
 
 Her natural height, through Sorrow and through 
 
 Pain, 
 Stern teachers, learning the eternal laws 
 That rule her being." 
 
 Here the pause 
 That followed, Clarence broke in tones 
 Of scorn : '' My Soul," he cried, " disowns 
 The barren doctrine that would dry 
 The springs of kindly Charity 
 That hopeth all things, in the breast ; 
 
DESTINY. 15 
 
 Teaching the Soul to find her best 
 
 And highest wisdom in a faith 
 
 Whose selfish coldness carries death 
 
 To every gentle flower whose bloom 
 
 Might grace the sternness of our doom. 
 
 No ! rather let me hope in vain 
 
 A thousand times, than once remain 
 
 Cold to a sorrow I might cure, 
 
 Or slow to aid. Let me endure 
 
 The pangs of confidence betrayed, 
 
 A thousand times, ere I be made. 
 
 Through prudence, false to the belief 
 
 I hold in Virtue, as our chief 
 
 And highest Good — the heritage 
 
 Of all. If disappointed Age 
 
 Must bring me, with her dear-bought lore, 
 
 This bitter lesson — oh ! before 
 
 Her chilling breath destroy the fair 
 
 And fragrant buds that fill the air 
 
 Of Youth with ravishing delight, 
 
 Let me in Death's untimely night 
 
 Hide, with the rapture that they bring, 
 
 The hope and promise of my Spring." 
 
1 6 DESTINY. 
 
 "Nay, Clarence," Ernest interposed, 
 
 " If in my words I have disclosed 
 
 Too little faith in this bright dream 
 
 That flatters Youth with transient gleam 
 
 Cast from Life's glowing morning sky — 
 
 The Progress of Humanity, — 
 
 Think not my heart is therefore cold 
 
 To human hopes, or that 1 hold 
 
 A faith less firm than is thine own 
 
 In Virtue — but my heart has known 
 
 Too much of suffering to believe 
 
 In hopes that flatter to deceive. 
 
 To me hath Life her wisdom brought 
 
 Before its season, — wisdom fraught 
 
 With bitterness — without perfume. 
 
 Like every plant whose early bloom 
 
 Springs from a forced and sudden growth ; 
 
 And Wisdom is a plant that both 
 
 The frosts of Autumn and the heat 
 
 Of Summer needs to render sweet 
 
 The fruit it bears. And yet, though stern 
 
 Of mien my Guide, and hard to learn 
 
 The lesson she would teach, from snares 
 
DESTINY. 17 
 
 The path she treads is free ; she wears 
 
 No false, fair smiles that in their train 
 
 Bring Madness and Despair ; the pain 
 
 Her hand inflicts, beneficent, 
 
 Gives to the soul with health, content ; 
 
 And those who serve her she repays 
 
 With gems that shine not in the rays 
 
 Of treacherous smiles alone, but light 
 
 With inborn radiance the night 
 
 Of Misery: — contempt of all 
 
 The shafts of Fate, that harmless fall 
 
 On the strong soul in armor cased 
 
 Of Constancy, by no alloy 
 
 Whose sterling metal is debased 
 
 And weakened ; a sustaining joy 
 
 In hopes that bloom not, barren here, 
 
 But find fruition in a sphere 
 
 Of higher possibilities ; 
 
 Wisdom, the aspect of the skies 
 
 To trust not lightly, setting sail 
 
 For unknown regions, by the gale 
 
 Of fond Desire impelled, lest dark 
 
 The heavens growing, life's frail bark. 
 
1 8 DESTINY. 
 
 While sudden tempests round her wake, 
 
 Shipwreck in shallow waters make ; 
 
 Strength, born of suffering, to endure ; 
 
 Hatred of all things base ; a pure, 
 
 Unbribed devotion to the Good 
 
 And True ; content in solitude, 
 
 In whose charmed precincts only lie 
 
 The low, sweet tones that harmony 
 
 Of seeming discord make ; — are these 
 
 Less worth than glittering gems that please 
 
 The fancy, only while Youth dwells 
 
 In caverns dim, by magic spells 
 
 Held captive, but whose glamour glows 
 
 No more when Truth's clear beams disclose 
 
 The worthless cheat ? O Clarence ! trust 
 
 Him not who offers for the rust 
 
 And tarnish of the Lamp whose power 
 
 Gave to our Youth an affluent dower 
 
 Of precious gifts, its hours that lit 
 
 With joy, a shining counterfeit. 
 
 In vain, in vain we hope to call 
 
 Back from the Past the prodigal 
 
 Gay bloom of Spring to grace the dull 
 
DESTINY. 19 
 
 And barren days of Winter. Full 
 
 Of bitterness the years that cling 
 
 To faded glories of Life's spring 
 
 P'or all their wealth — whose stores contain 
 
 No garnered harvest of ripe grain 
 
 To nourish with sweet, wholesome food 
 
 The hours of rest and solitude. 
 
 Build therefore now no pleasure-house 
 
 Of fragrant flowers and blooming boughs^ 
 
 Laden with promise fair, thine age 
 
 To shelter ; when the heritage 
 
 Of Youth is squandered — its perfume 
 
 Wasted on winds that rob its bloom, 
 
 Quenched its warm light, its music stilled, 
 
 Vanished the joys its hours that filled ; 
 
 The branches, withered then and dry, 
 
 Shall stand against the wintry sky, 
 
 Whose living roots within the earth 
 
 Hide not the promise of a birth 
 
 Of fairer bloom and richer store 
 
 Of fruit than crowned its bloom before. 
 
 Nor grieve that thus Youth's blossoms fade 
 
 For this their gracious bloom was made. 
 
20 DESTINY. 
 
 That Beauty's self with fostering care 
 
 Might guard the germ designed to bear 
 
 The fruit of Truth, who is with her 
 
 In essence one — the minister 
 
 Of Being each ; nor, reached her end, 
 
 That with the elements shall blend 
 
 Again the form that Beauty leaves. 
 
 To grace, transfused, the life Truth gives. 
 
 Clarence, are these the thoughts that fill 
 
 With gloom a cynic's breast ? Oh ! still 
 
 Its dear, inalienable dower 
 
 My soul preserves, with gracious power 
 
 Life's barren ways to clothe in fair, 
 
 Undying verdure — bloom more rare 
 
 I'han earthly flowers that fade and die 
 
 Alike beneath the inclement sky 
 
 Of winter, and the sultry blaze 
 
 Of summer noons ; but I would raise 
 
 A barrier sure thy steps to keep 
 
 This side the edge of Fancy's steep 
 
 And treacherous flower-crowned precipice ; 
 
 Lest in the fathomless abyss 
 
 Of Doubt, one step unwary down 
 
DESTINY. 21 
 
 Should hurl thee headlong. I would crown 
 Friend of my soul, thy younger brow 
 With amaranthine bloom, whose glow 
 Fades not in wintry days ; whose root, 
 Undying, bears immortal fruit ; 
 Not like the prison -flowers, whose breath 
 My soul had steeped in living death, 
 Till by thy clear young voice recalled 
 Once more to Reason — disenthralled 
 From deadly spells, I woke again 
 To life, to memory — and to pain/' 
 
 *' Ernest ! heroic soul ! forgive 
 
 The thoughtless words that thus could grieve 
 
 Thy generous heart," cried Clarence. "Truth, 
 
 Not in the fever-glow of Youth, 
 
 But in the strength of riper years 
 
 Finds fittest championship. Not tears, 
 
 And passionate clamor can avail 
 
 To vanquish Evil ; but the pale 
 
 And lonely vigils given to Thought. 
 
 This has thy truer wisdom taught 
 
 My rash, short-sighted egoism. 
 
22 DESTINY. 
 
 Thou only to receive the chrism 
 
 Art worthy, consecrate to stand 
 
 At Truth's pure altar, and with hand 
 
 Unspotted, offer sacrifice 
 
 Acceptable ; thou hast the price 
 
 Of wisdom paid ; for that thy breast 
 
 Some sorrow harbors, unconfest, 
 
 Long have I known, and fain some balm 
 
 To give thy troubled spirit calm 
 
 I would have sought, but that in vain 
 
 Would Friendship soothe unuttered Pain." 
 
 '' Nay, Clarence," Ernest gently said, 
 ^' Though from a secret wound has bled 
 My spirit long, and Life for me 
 Has rent too soon her mystery 
 Of sunlit mists, whose depths enfold 
 In Youth our Future, when of mould 
 More large and noble all things seem, 
 Yet calm my soul the fatal Dream, 
 That once my senses captive held, 
 Has left by Reason's light dispelled. 
 But, that no thought to thee unknown, 
 
DESTINY. 23 
 
 The pulses of my heart may stir, 
 And thine not thrill in unison, 
 This fatal Dream, the harbinger, 
 In radiant guise, of darkened days. 
 Now shalt thou hear, and on ray Past 
 The light of thy clear Reason cast, 
 While I retrace its secret ways." 
 
CANTO SECOND. 
 
 HEN first amid the solitudes 
 
 Where Nature yet keeps unprofaned 
 Primeval state, thy voice unchained 
 With magic spell, from deadly words 
 Of hate and anguish, my sick soul. 
 Her sorrow was no common dole, 
 But utter wreck of Joy and Hope, 
 That cast her naked on Life's strand, 
 In darkness and dismay to grope 
 For safety with weak, nerveless hand ; 
 Bleeding and helpless on the rock 
 She lay, of Misery, when thy grasp 
 Caught her from the returning shock 
 Of storm-lashed waves, with friendly clasp, 
 And held her from the abyss profound, 
 Where lay engulfed, of Happiness 
 The lifeless form, with flowers yet crowned, 
 That still retained the warm impress 
 24 
 
DESTINY. 25 
 
 Of kisses from Life's sources fed. 
 
 I thought my heart within me dead 
 
 Lay then, by Fate's sharp arrow slain 
 
 With Happiness ; but undying Pain, 
 
 A sleepless vulture, gnaw^ the heart 
 
 To joys divine that would aspire 
 
 On Earth, from Heaven immortal fire 
 
 Seeking to bring, with fatal art. 
 
 Yet shall unconquerable Will, 
 
 With calm endurance, vanquish Fate, 
 
 And Virtue in the soul distil 
 
 Strength, in defeat that keeps her state. 
 
 Thus then my soul awaits the hour, 
 
 Nor eager, nor reluctant, fraught 
 
 With solemn and enduring power — 
 
 The weight of her Eternal Lot ; 
 
 Calm in this trust — that He who gave 
 
 The soul her aspirations high. 
 
 Meant not to hide within the grave 
 
 Her dreams of Immortality ; 
 
 Nor deems it of import supreme 
 
 That from Life's bark some freight be cast 
 
 That stays her progress in the stream 
 
26 DESTINY. 
 
 Her sail is spread on, so at last 
 
 She reach her port, secure the Pearl 
 
 Of Price, her aim and guerdon, won 
 
 From treacherous quicksands and the whirl 
 
 Of angry waters. But as one 
 
 Who, spent with toil, the boon of rest 
 
 From labor wins at last, so I, 
 
 The peace that now crowns victory. 
 
 From long and bitter conflict wrest. 
 
 Peace that the garden of my life 
 
 A wild and barren waste has left ; 
 
 Of every bud in that fierce strife. 
 
 And every opening flower bereft. 
 
 Never may blossom more unfold 
 
 Of earthly bloom its loveliness ; 
 
 With soul-transporting charm the cold 
 
 And darkened days of life to bless, 
 
 Since Love, the sun whose kindling glow 
 
 Transfused its vital warmth to all 
 
 Its beams illumed, has sunk below 
 
 Earth's dim horizon, in the pall 
 
 Of darkness shrouded, such as hides 
 
 From the wrecked mariner the sky 
 
DESTINY. 27 
 
 And stormy waters, while on high 
 
 His course no friendly pole-star guides." 
 
 " O Ernest ! " Clarence cried, "can dull 
 And sordid natures find in Love 
 Life's crown, while thou, whose soul is full 
 Of richest gifts his grace to move. 
 Hast found him to thy offerings mute 
 And cold ? to his best attribute 
 Untrue ? Nay, rather thou hast been 
 Unwilling at his shrine to pour 
 Libations ; and from out thy store 
 To offer sacrifice ; this sin 
 His wrath upon thy head has drawn. 
 But, as at times the fairest dawn 
 Succeeds the darkest night, so now 
 Shall Love appeased, thy days endow 
 With light and peace that come at last 
 When dark, tempestuous hours are past." 
 
 " Thou hast but ill interpreted 
 My nature, Clarence, if thus weak, 
 And thus inconstant," Ernest said, 
 
28 DESTINY. 
 
 " Thou thinkest me — again to seek 
 
 The happiness that once in vain 
 
 I courted ; or to soothe the pain 
 
 Of love insulted, mocked, betrayed. 
 
 The fatal stake for which I played 
 
 Withholding — all that makes life dear, — 
 
 Joy, Hope, and Peace. No ! too sincere 
 
 The homage I have freely given 
 
 To Love, in other joys than his, 
 
 Of Life the glory and the bliss 
 
 To seek — such bliss as reigns in Heaven. 
 
 Life still indeed holds such content 
 
 As springs from duties coldly done, 
 
 But Love's celestial ravishment 
 
 Once vanished, is forever gone. 
 
 Oh ! when my soul had thought she found 
 
 Her mate, no monarch of the earth 
 
 Ruled our kingdom of such worth 
 
 As that of which Love's hand had crowned 
 
 Her sovereign absolute — a brief 
 
 And blissful madness, yet divine. 
 
 That sacred still within her shrine, 
 
 Amidst the Doubt and Unbelief 
 
DESTINY, 29 
 
 Of later days, may leave serene, 
 
 The pure Ideal of a free 
 
 Harmonious bond — the unity 
 
 Of two true souls — that might have been." 
 
 He paused, and both were silent ; each 
 Busy with thoughts too deep for speech — 
 Such thoughts as by the magic stirred, 
 That lies in some half-uttered word, 
 Over the vista of the Past 
 A gleam of truer insight cast ; 
 And with prophetic power embrace, 
 Freed from the bonds of Time and Space, 
 The possibilities that lie 
 Hid formless in Futurity, 
 At length the silence Clarence broke, 
 In voice that trembled as he spoke. 
 With mingled feelings : " Oh, my friend I 
 Well do I know the pangs that rend 
 Thy spirit ; for I too have felt 
 The power of Love. I too have dwelt 
 In those enchanted halls where fair 
 Ethereal spirits minister. 
 
30 DESTINY. 
 
 And Destiny such bitterness 
 
 As thine, for me may hold in store ; 
 
 For never in the ear to pour 
 
 Of her I love, my love's excess, 
 
 Yet have I dared ; nor in her soul 
 
 Know if some chord responsive thrill 
 
 To mine ; for ever when the goal 
 
 Of all my hopes seemed nearest, still 
 
 Some cloud, vague, formless, would arise, 
 
 To veil the lustre of her face, 
 
 And leave me hidden from the grace 
 
 And glory of her starry eyes. 
 
 In chill and barren darkness, mute. 
 
 And faint of heart. And oh ! should Fate 
 
 At last with ruthless hand uproot 
 
 Love's flower, whose fibres penetrate 
 
 To its profoundest depths my heart, 
 
 Ernest, too well, too well I feel 
 
 From Life the glory would depart, 
 
 And all the raptures that reveal 
 
 In Margaret's voice, in Margaret's glance, 
 
 A gleam of heavenly radiance, 
 
 Of heavenly harmony a strain. 
 
DESTINY. 31 
 
 That tell my spirit not in vain 
 Were aspirations given her here 
 That find not their fulfilment, yet 
 In exile some remembrance dear 
 Keep of her home, lest she forget 
 Her lofty destiny, and lose 
 Content her birthright — willing choose 
 Her fellow in the senseless clod — 
 Her end, her origin, her God ! " 
 
 On Ernest's ear unheeded fell 
 
 These words, for through his soul had passed 
 
 With Margaret's name a sword. At last 
 
 He cried, with pallid lips that tell 
 
 Of anguish yet unconquered — strife 
 
 Yet unsubdued : — " Clarence, thy life 
 
 Her love will blight ! Oh ! trust her not i 
 
 The name is fatal ! From my breast 
 
 Would that forever I might blot 
 
 That word accursed, abhorred, imprest 
 
 In characters of fire there. 
 
 Margaret ! this name the siren bore. 
 
 That lured me to the treacherous shore 
 
32 DESTINY. 
 
 Where Happiness went down, with fair 
 Angelic seeming. Let it be 
 Henceforth with curses only named, 
 Or kept unspoken ; enemy 
 To Constancy and Truth proclaimed, 
 Or held too faithless but by lips 
 Forsworn and perjured, to be breathed. 
 Her name, my life who has bequeathed 
 A memory that makes eclipse 
 Forever of its brightness." Here 
 He paused ; then with a deep-drawn sigh 
 Resumed : " Forgive me. Why should I 
 Cloud thy young life with shadows thrown 
 From the chill darkness of my Past ? 
 If bitterness my heart hath known, 
 Shall its remembrance overcast 
 Therefore thy morning sky with gloom? 
 Oh ! rather let me in the bloom 
 And radiance of thy being sit ; 
 And catch some reflex of the light 
 That glorifies thy life with bright 
 Enchantments — splendors such as lit 
 Earth once for me." 
 
DESTINY. 33 
 
 "O Ernest ! cease," 
 Clarence in fervent accents said, 
 " To call from out its grave the dead 
 And buried Past. Rob not of Peace, 
 Its sad and sacred privilege, 
 Death, the Consoler of all Woe. 
 Let Lethe's cool, dark waters flow 
 Over thy spirit, and assuage 
 This soul-consuming grief. Behold ! 
 How fair is Earth ! Oh ! yield not thus, 
 Weakly to Fate, oblivious 
 Of all Life offers to the bold 
 And earnest seeker. This warm air, 
 Breathing soft odors ; yon blue sky. 
 And all it bends o'er, bright and fair, — 
 These have no part in misery. 
 Awake ! awake from evil dreams ; 
 Earth calls on all to take their part 
 In life, who live. Make of thy heart 
 No more a grave. Let requiems 
 For buried hopes no longer fill 
 Thine ear, and make inaudible 
 To thy dulled sense the tones that rise 
 
34 DESTINY. 
 
 In ceaseless clamor to the skies, 
 From the great heart that ever beats 
 Unpausing, of Humanity. 
 O Ernest ! shall the sorrows be 
 Unheeded by us, and the joys of men, 
 Because, within our narrow ken 
 They lie not, nor our pulses stir 
 With sympathies that minister 
 To selfish happiness or grief — 
 The pangs or pleasures of one brief, 
 Swift moment of Eternity. 
 What ! shall the Earth in darkness lie, 
 Hid by a hand in anguish pressed 
 Over hot weary eyes for rest, 
 When the bright sun dispels the gloom 
 Of night ? Is Happiness the end 
 Of Life, or noble toil, O friend ! 
 That thou should'st bury in the tomb 
 Of Happiness thy heart ? With sweet, 
 Unselfish throb shall it not beat 
 For others still ; and freely give 
 Its wealth uncounted to retrieve 
 The wrongs and sufferings that make 
 
DESTINY. 35 
 
 Of brothers enemies ? Oh, take, / 
 Ernest, among the ranks again 
 Thy place, victorious over Pain 
 And weakness— worthy of the wreath 
 Of Valor faithful unto Death." 
 
 " Clarence, from life hast thou not said 
 For thee the glory would depart, 
 Should Fate uproot within thy heart 
 The budding hopes that there have spread 
 Their roots ; and shall I, who have seen 
 The garden of my life laid waste— 
 Wide to the winds its beauty cast. 
 Blossom and seed— of all its green 
 And fragrant life no vestige left, — 
 Shall I, of Hope's sweet balm bereft, 
 Plant flowers on the grave of Love, 
 To bind with garlands my wan brow, 
 And in Life's march triumphal move, 
 To echoes of his dirge, with slow 
 And weary step ? Take thou the sword ; 
 Better it fits thy untired hand, 
 And battle for the Right. The word 
 
36 DESTINY. 
 
 Shout to the people, of command, 
 
 With fresh, young voice whose ringing tones 
 
 Unpitied on the ear of Night 
 
 Have never died away in groans 
 
 Heart-rung of anguish infinite. 
 
 The souls of men do thou inspire, 
 
 Clarence, with kindling glance, whose fire 
 
 Was never quenched in tears ; but make 
 
 No vain endeavor to awake 
 
 Within my breast amidst the cold 
 
 Dead ashes of the Past, the old, 
 
 Long-vanished fire and glow of Youth. 
 
 No ardent homage now to Truth, 
 
 As erst, can my dulled spirit yield, 
 
 Eut as its source is, frigid. Sealed 
 
 To all glad outer influences, 
 
 The well-spring of my being flows 
 
 Darkly, nor in its course bestows • 
 
 A brighter green on heirbs or trees 
 
 That on its borders grow. In vain 
 
 Would autumn's sun recall again 
 
 To life and bloom the withered rose 
 
 Whose petals touched by early frost, 
 
DESTINY. 37 
 
 Their summer glory once have lost ; 
 
 His beams their ruin but disclose. 
 
 Such is my life — a withered flower, 
 
 That still hangs drooping on its stem, 
 
 Though never more may freshening shower 
 
 With crystal drops its leaves begem ; 
 
 Or vitalizing beam illume 
 
 Its pallid hues. Gone are the bloom 
 
 And softness that its beauty made, 
 
 And strength alike. Then let it fade 
 
 And fall unnoted, since no more 
 
 May sun or shower, its bloom restore." 
 
 " Yet in the rose, such fragrance lives," 
 Said Clarence, " as, though gone its bloom. 
 To autumn days a part still gives 
 Of summer's loveliness — perfume. 
 That sweetens dark and dreary hours, — 
 The soul of summer's vanished flowers. 
 And so, thy life its fragrance still, 
 Ernest, shall breathe around, though lost 
 Its bloom and brightness, at the chill, 
 Untimely touch of Sorrow's frost. 
 
38 DESTINY. 
 
 Or rather shall a second spring, 
 
 O friend ! within thy soul awake 
 
 Life's sleeping forces, that shall bring 
 
 New bloom, new loveliness, to make 
 
 Fruitful again in hopes the year. 
 
 A higher lot, a nobler sphere 
 
 Than perishable things the soul 
 
 Claims as her birthright, though her goal 
 
 Be hidden from her by the dust 
 
 And windings of her toilsome way. 
 
 Though the young bloom of spring decay, 
 
 In the ripe harvest-time we trust 
 
 Untroubled ; and when leafless stand 
 
 The trees, and rigid in her cold. 
 
 White shroud lies stretched the silent land, 
 
 B}'- Nature's own wise lore consoled. 
 
 Still we await in steadfast faith, 
 
 A resurrection from this death. 
 
 And shall the soul, while here on earth 
 
 She still abides, less vital prove 
 
 Than senseless matter, at the birth, 
 
 Exhausted, 'of the Flower of Love, 
 
 Worthless, if by the fruit mature 
 
DESTINY. 39 
 
 It be not followed. Shall one Spring 
 
 To her be given for blossoming, 
 
 Whose fruit immortal shall endure 
 
 For all Eternity ? A plant, 
 
 Rather, of tropic growth, she bears 
 
 Blossom and fruit at once, and shares 
 
 Of Earth the fettered habitant, 
 
 Comniunion still with skies benign, 
 
 That in her being some divine. 
 
 Undying element transfuse. 
 
 Whose voice her earthly mould subdues 
 
 To such fair fruitfulness, as here, 
 
 In this, her low and narrow sphere. 
 
 Gives confirmation of her high, 
 
 Glad hope of Immortality. 
 
 Ernest, Life's voyage, thou hast said,, 
 
 It matters not if rough or smooth, 
 
 So that its end the pearl of Truth 
 
 Triumphant crown ; but from its bed 
 
 In depths unfathomed, canst thou win 
 
 This priceless treasure, if within 
 
 The abyss thou plunge not ? Canst thou glide, 
 
 Passive, the sport of wind and tide, 
 
40 DESTINY. 
 
 And to the haven bear at last 
 
 The meed of toil and peril passed ? 
 
 Action ! the primal Law of Earth — 
 
 The law that still a fairer birth 
 
 Evolves from Death, — whose vital power^ 
 
 Displayed alike in star or flower, 
 
 Keeps from corruption and decay 
 
 The Universe ; — this law divine 
 
 Matter and spirit must obey 
 
 Alike, or must alike decline 
 
 From primal worth. Then break the spell 
 
 That holds thee captive to a Dream, 
 
 And live for others ; for too well, 
 
 Ernest, I know thy heart to deem 
 
 That, by the ruthless hand, and rude, 
 
 of Fate once rifled, Love again 
 
 Will e'er come back, o'er hopes to brood, 
 
 Within that nest that still remain. 
 
 If Love divine himself, indeed. 
 
 And not some traitor in Love's guise. 
 
 Thy heart had sheltered." 
 
 " Nay, the meed 
 Due to the willing sacrifice 
 
DESTINY. 41 
 
 Made for Love's sake, my heart now claims 
 
 By no false title," Ernest said ; 
 
 " Not on the altar have I laid, 
 
 Of a false deity, in flames 
 
 Kindled at earthly fires to die. 
 
 The glowing dreams by young Romance 
 
 Inspired — the bright inheritance 
 
 Of Youth, — its aspirations high, 
 
 With all the dear delights that move 
 
 The soul to rapture. Judge if Love, 
 
 When thou hast heard me to the end, 
 
 Himself the sacred fire bestowed, 
 
 That on his hallowed altar glowed 
 
 With splendors that the light transcend 
 
 Of sun or star ; for still divine 
 
 May be the altar, and the shrine, 
 
 Clarence, though they who worship be 
 
 Unworthy of the deity. 
 
 And Margaret seemed, of all who yield 
 
 To Love their homage, fairest, best ; 
 
 Fair as as the flower that holds concealed 
 
 Within its white and stainless breast 
 
 The fatal poison he inhales, 
 
42 DESTINY. 
 
 Who presses to his lips its bloom, 
 Entranced ; and blind the beauty hails, 
 That lures him, treacherous, to his doom. 
 Yes ; fair as that delusive glow 
 On poison and corruption fed. 
 Semblance of life, where life has fled, 
 That on his path, with friendly show 
 Shining in darkness, leads astray 
 The wanderer on his homeward way. 
 O Clarence ! when in dreams again 
 The starry radiance of her eyes 
 My soul illumes, a glad surprise 
 My pulses thrills, that swift in pain 
 Dissolving, tells me of this wound 
 Beyond the hope of cure profound, 
 The anguish shall my bosom rend, 
 Till pain and life together end." 
 
 He paused ; and leaning on his hand 
 His pallid brow, awhile remained 
 In attitude of hopeless grief. 
 Too deep to find in words relief, — 
 Prey to a force beyond control, 
 The fever that consumed his soul. 
 
DESTINY. 43 
 
 Then, 
 
 " Clarence, now at last," he said, 
 " Thy friend thou knowest ; now at last 
 The mask of stoicism is cast 
 Aside, and bare before thee laid 
 The quivering breast that Memory keeps 
 Transfixed with talons sharp, her prey, 
 Deep burying there her beak, and sleeps, 
 Pitiless, nor by night nor day. 
 How vividly my soul recalls 
 The fatal hour when first, a guest 
 Within her father's stately halls, 
 I saw the loveliness imprest 
 In fadeless hues upon my heart. 
 Amidst the throng I stood apart. 
 Plunged in sad revery, as oft 
 Was then my wont, when clear and soft 
 As melody of woodland bird, 
 Upon my troubled senses stole 
 Strains, that of harmonies my soul 
 In some lost state of bliss had heard, 
 The echo seemed. Then silence came, 
 Followed by such applause as claim 
 
44 DESTINY. 
 
 Sweet accents in a tongue unknown, 
 From those who listen. I alone, 
 A stranger there, no fitting word 
 Could find to utter ; for, at rest 
 Till then, some chord within my breast, 
 By that sweet voice unconscious stirred. 
 Her irreversible decree 
 Told me that Fate had spoken — free 
 Henceforward from the fatal spell 
 Thrown round me then, to live no more. 
 While still I vainly sought to quell 
 This tumult, through the open door 
 Her father led me to the place 
 Where, radiant in youthful grace, 
 A queen amidst the court she stood, 
 Who paid her homage. 
 
 ' Here I bring, 
 Margaret,' he said, in tones subdued 
 By some remembered suffering, 
 ' The son of one who, in our youth, 
 Was dear to me — whose memory still 
 Is dear and honored ; and who will, 
 For his own merits, to us both 
 
DESTINY, 45 
 
 Be dear.' He paused. A sudden glance 
 
 Illumining her countenance, 
 
 Told me that here was no still lake, 
 
 Reflecting in its tranquil breast 
 
 The changing clouds — content to take 
 
 Its motion from without, or rest. 
 
 But, clear and strong, a mountain stream, 
 
 Deriving from its native source. 
 
 With being, freedom, depth, and force ; 
 
 Yet idly that at times to dream 
 
 In some green, fairy-peopled dell 
 
 Could linger, of the summer moon. 
 
 The splendor of some golden noon, 
 
 Or sunset, yielding to the spell. 
 
 " ' Oft have I heard my father speak 
 Of his profoundest grief,' she said 
 Gently, ' save one ' ; while in her cheek 
 The rose-tint deepened, as she laid 
 Her slender hand in mine ; ' and still 
 The shadow lingers, dark and chill, 
 Cast by the eclipse of Friendship's star 
 Over his days.' Here her voice took 
 
4^ DESTINY. 
 
 A softer accent, and a look 
 
 She turned upon him, such as are 
 
 By pitying angels cast on those 
 
 Who, from the crimes and errors free 
 
 That desecrate Humanity, 
 
 Share of Humanity the woes. 
 
 Then — ' But young leaves shall clothe again 
 
 The tree with verdure, in whose shade 
 
 The weary heart from toil and pain 
 
 Finds rest awhile, and strength,' she said, 
 
 And turned her clear, dark eyes on me. 
 
 " 'Young leaves again shall clothe the tree,' 
 
 Her father said, and gently sighed ; 
 
 ' But other hearts than mine shall hide 
 
 Beneath its shade their joy or woe. 
 
 The rudely-broken dream can know 
 
 No second being, though kind sleep 
 
 Return, and wrap the soul in deep 
 
 And calm repose ; so once dispelled 
 
 The bright illusions that have held 
 
 In thrall the spirit, never more 
 
 Can Time their magic hues restore.' 
 
DESTINY. 47 
 
 " He ceased ; and, for his soul to dwell 
 
 Seemed in the Past, nor she nor I 
 
 Would break the silence here that fell, 
 
 Till he resumed : ' The glowing sky 
 
 Of morning not less, fair and bright, 
 
 Our senses charms, though clouds and night 
 
 Obscure at last its gorgeous hues ; 
 
 Then ere Life's rose its freshness lose. 
 
 Let Youth its fleeting sweets inhale ; 
 
 Dispense the blooming heritage 
 
 With lavish hand, each passing gale 
 
 That makes less fragrant ; leave to age 
 
 Its wisdom, of unwilling toil 
 
 The fruit — harsh product of a soil 
 
 Watered by tears ; and Pleasure's draught 
 
 Drain, that while sparkling must be quaffed.' 
 
 " Thus did the hand of Fate, in words 
 Whose bitterness I knew not then, 
 The prelude in prophetic chords, 
 Strike of Despair and endless Pain. 
 O Clarence ! never may thy soul 
 The cold and barren wisdom learn 
 
48 DESTINY. 
 
 That robs of Fancy's glow the goal 
 Toward which thy eager steps may turn 
 In trustful hope, unfaltering. 
 Oh ! rather weakly, blindly cling 
 To aught thy heart that satisfies, 
 Than, with a fatal knowledge wise, 
 The joy and bloom of Life beneath, 
 Discern the nothingness of Death. 
 But let me end. The sacred fire 
 At contact of two kindred souls 
 That springs to being, and controls 
 Our human destinies to higher. 
 Nobler ends than selfish toil 
 Can reach, unguided by its light, — 
 This sacred fire, its glow awhile 
 Diffused throughout my life, in bright 
 And fruitful bloom her nakedness 
 That clad with power beneficent ; 
 Then, in my breast its ardor pent, 
 Consuming with its fierce excess 
 My being, in thick, blinding smoke, 
 And flames, and lava-torrents broke, 
 That swift in blackened ruins laid 
 
DESTINY. 49 
 
 The beauty that itself had made, 
 With every flower of paler hue, 
 Beneath the sky of Youth that grew." 
 
 With pensive mien had Clarence heard 
 
 These words, with secret power that stirred 
 
 To pain the fibres of his heart. 
 
 Whose bitterness, if sprung alone 
 
 From Ernest's grief, or if his own. 
 
 Held there, remote and vague, some part, 
 
 He knew not ; nor, as Ernest paused 
 
 A moment, if the sigh his breast 
 
 That moved, by pity most were caused, 
 
 •Or by forebodings dim. 
 
 ''The rest. 
 If aught remains, what boots to tell," 
 Ernest resumed : " if I too well 
 Or she too coldly loved, to keep, 
 Of heart and soul in unison. 
 Our mutual pulses ; or if one 
 More skilled than I the chords to sweep 
 Of woman's nature, sounds more sweet 
 Drew cunning from that instrument. 
 
50 DESTINY. 
 
 That made, with needful discords blent, 
 Of Life a harmony complete. 
 Enough that, ere the crescent moon 
 That lit that cloudless night of June 
 Three times renewed her growth since first 
 Upon my sight the glory burst, 
 With darkened vision that has left 
 My soul forever — from the skies, 
 Distilling balm, of Paradise, 
 Alone my steps I turned, bereft 
 Of Love's sweet immortality." 
 
 " O Ernest ! Love can never die, 
 
 When once to being he has sprung," 
 
 Said Clarence, " but keeps fresh and young 
 
 The soul forever, by his grace 
 
 Once hallowed. In thy heart his place, 
 
 Beneath the guise of hatred, still 
 
 He holds secure, nor can thy Will 
 
 Deny him right of shelter there. 
 
 Too lightly has thy soul Despair 
 
 Seized as her portion. Haply now. 
 
 In anguish no less deep than thine. 
 
DESTINY, 51 
 
 Her trust betrayed, thy broken vow, 
 Love's rudely- violated shrine 
 Forsaken, she thou lovest, mourns." 
 
 "My soul the love," said Ernest, "scorns, 
 
 That room for aught leaves in the heart. 
 
 That is not of itself a part ; 
 
 The love that can in aught find scope, 
 
 That is not the Beloved, for hope. 
 
 Desire, or fear ; that calmly claims 
 
 Its rights ; a willing sacrifice 
 
 Itself that gives not, but the price 
 
 Proportioned to its worth, that names. 
 
 Such love was hers — too weak to bear 
 
 A breath of vitalizing air. 
 
 What matter if so poor a thing 
 
 Still to existence feebly cling, 
 
 Or if the oblivion and the peace 
 
 It share, with Death's dull nothingness." 
 
 " Not so," said Clarence, " if aright 
 
 My judgment speak ; thy hand has thrown, 
 
 Ernest, the charm-dispelling stone 
 
52 DESTINY. 
 
 In Love's calm lake, the infinite, 
 Clear depths that mirrored, of the skies. 
 Some careless word, some haughty look 
 Thy soul impatient could not brook — 
 Her peace and thine the sacrifice." 
 
 Here Ernest quickly raised his head, 
 
 With reddened cheek and kindling glance, 
 
 Then while upon his countenance 
 
 The flush died out, he slowly said: 
 
 " Ay, looks and words the heart that pierce 
 
 And move the brain to madness. Hear, 
 
 Clarence, before thou judge, the fierce 
 
 And cruel pangs that could unsphere 
 
 My soul from her fixed orbit. Long 
 
 I bore in silence every wrong — 
 
 Kind glances on another cast — 
 
 Blushes when he approached — for me 
 
 The daily tortures Jealousy 
 
 Prepares for those who love. At last 
 
 The fatal hour unbidden came. 
 
 That kindled with swift wings to flame 
 
 The fires that smouldered in mv breast. 
 
DESTINY. 53 
 
 Within her father's halls a guest 
 Again I stood — resolved to know, 
 This night, henceforth if bliss or woe 
 My portion were. I sought her where. 
 With downcast eyes and absent air, 
 Plucking the petals of a rose, 
 Apart she stood in shadow. Foes, 
 When they encounter, as we stood, 
 Confronting each the other, stand, 
 Silent and stern. * A last demand 
 Upon your grace, this solitude 
 Unwonted,' bitterly I said, 
 ' Now gives me room to make.' Her head 
 She turned aside — for in her eyes 
 A startled glance of quick surprise 
 Some thought she would conceal, betrayed 
 A movement of disdain she made 
 Then, in my breast'the passionate 
 Deep sense of wrong that turned to hate 
 And blindly, recklessly I spoke 
 Cold, cruel words, and taunts that broke 
 Unconscious from my tortured breast. 
 'The pangs of self-reproach, at least. 
 
54 DESTINY. 
 
 The heart you outrage, would you spare.* 
 In scornful accents she replied 
 Calmly ; but vivid blushes dyed 
 Her cheek the while : ' Let us defer 
 What further converse you would hold 
 With me, till woman's weakness, bold 
 In the support that weakness claims 
 From manhood's strength, dare vindicate 
 My woman's dignity — too late, 
 Indeed, to shun a bond it shames 
 My soul that gladly it has worn.' 
 
 Clarence ! if the pangs have torn, 
 Of anguish, shame, remorse, despair, 
 Thy heart at once with ruthless power, 
 The tortures that my soul that hour 
 Endured, may find some reflex there. 
 
 1 caught her hand — ' Margaret, forget 
 Wild words,' I cried, ' that only prove 
 The depth and fervor of my love. 
 Oh ! shall thy heart, compassionate 
 To every meanest thing that lives, 
 
 Its sternness all reserve for me ? 
 If to thy pity misery, 
 
DESTINY. ' 55 
 
 As once, the surest title gives, 
 Ah ! then indeed I need not fear, 
 Secure in wretchedness. Oh ! speak ; 
 Shall anguish sue in vain ? * Her cheek, 
 Even as I spoke, grew pale ; her hand 
 Trembled in mine, as, in the door. 
 Turning, I saw my rival stand. 
 I know not if my features bore 
 Some deadly token of despair 
 And madness, that the minister 
 Proclaimed me of Remorse and Woe, 
 But Margaret's lips were white, as ' Go ! 
 Traitress,' I cried, and flung away 
 With scorn the hand in mine that lay. 
 ' Go ! weave your spells for baser souls 
 Than mine, content the cup to drink 
 Whose treacherous delight consoles 
 In bondage those who willing sink 
 Below their manhood's high estate.' 
 At this a glance of scorn and hate 
 I fixed on him who stood between 
 My peace and me ; his face was pale ; 
 He would have spoken, but with mien 
 
5 6 DESTINY, 
 
 Haughty, yet sad, ' A thing so frail, 
 
 Said Margaret, ' as the love that dies, 
 
 Its root when Passion's ardor dries, 
 
 I know not why my soul should grieve 
 
 To lose ; yet, Ernest, this believe — 
 
 You do me wrong.' A gentler glance 
 
 Then on my foe she turned, and said 
 
 ^ Forget, I pray you, the ill chance 
 
 Of this discussion that has made 
 
 A stranger witness.' Silently 
 
 He bent his head, and turned away. 
 
 She would have followed. ' Margaret, stayf 
 
 I cried ; ' of this assurance be 
 
 Your actions proof ; this symbol wear 
 
 Of Love to-night upon your breast, 
 
 If still indeed my image there 
 
 Survives ' ; and in her hand I placed 
 
 A rose plucked from a tree that grew 
 
 Beside us. ' Symbol meet,' she said, 
 
 ' Of Love on Summer fancies bred, 
 
 That fades when noonday heat the dew 
 
 Has drunk of morning. Thus I cast 
 
 Such love away ' ; and flung aside. 
 
DESTINY. 57 
 
 My love, rejected, scorned, denied. 
 Lay dead, a memory of the Past." 
 
 " And could'st thou, Ernest, had she done 
 
 Thy bidding, love so lightly won. 
 
 Esteem ? '* said Clarence ; " nay, the fruit 
 
 Of over-ripeness from the tree 
 
 That drops, we prize not, though it be 
 
 Of aspect fair. The chords are mute. 
 
 Within the soul that deepest lie, 
 
 To Love, less dear that holds its high 
 
 Ideal than itself. O friend ! 
 
 Be of good cheer ; not yet the end 
 
 Has come of Joy ; not cast aside 
 
 Thy love, but, cherished in her heart 
 
 It lives, by Sorrow justified, 
 
 That proves it of her life a part. 
 
 Friendship, endowed with vision clear. 
 
 Her burden, Ernest, bids thy soul 
 
 Cast off, and gird her loins, the goal 
 
 To reach ; though hidden, that lies near.'* 
 
 " O Clarence ! pause before you break 
 
58 DESTINY, 
 
 The spell," said Ernest, " that in thrall 
 
 My soul has held ; nor, thoughtless, wake 
 
 To seeming life the ghosts of all 
 
 The buried hopes the Earth that made 
 
 A Garden of Delight — to fade, 
 
 A phantom-train, into the gloom 
 
 Again of darkness and the tomb." 
 
 *' Behold [ " said Clarence ; " look on high, 
 Where, trembling through the violet sky, 
 The Star of Love her beams serene 
 Has rained on us till now unseen ; 
 Ernest ! to thee be this fair star. 
 Of Love and Peace the Harbinger." 
 And in the glance that Ernest turned 
 Above^ was quenched the fitful glow 
 Of Passion, in whose stead now burned 
 The light of Reason ; and his brow 
 The impress of recovered strength 
 And calmness bore. " Clarence," at length 
 He said, " thy hand the healing balm 
 Has poured into my soul, that sick 
 Lay unto death. The holy calm 
 
DESTINY. 59 
 
 Of Peace shall banish dreams that thick 
 With spectres peopled my dark days. 
 I thought to guard in untried ways 
 Thy steps from pitfalls ; but, more wise 
 Thy Faith, than Unbelief, the guise 
 That takes of Wisdom, thou my bark 
 Hast drawn to safety, circling near ' 
 The whirlpool of Despair ; nor fear 
 Again that on the waters dark 
 Of Doubt she shall unfurl her sail. 
 No ! Clarence ; in this tranquil vale, 
 The abode of Friendship, where my soul. 
 In darkness groping, came to seek 
 A trusted hand to guide her weak 
 And trembling steps, by Faith made whole, 
 She stands erect, restored to sight. 
 And as of yonder star the bright, 
 Pure rays the twilight gild, so Truth, 
 That draws from urns of fadeless Youth 
 Her light, shall, shining from afar. 
 In darkness be her guiding-star." 
 
 And homeward, as the twilight fell, 
 
6o DESTINY. 
 
 They turned their stejos : in unison 
 Their hearts with Nature ; one by one, 
 In Eve's soft gloom grew visible 
 The stars ; repose and silence reigned 
 Around ; yet, as the fruit, contained 
 Within the blossom, sleeps unseen, 
 Save by the spiritual sense, 
 So, by the soul, a life intense 
 Was felt in that repose serene. 
 
CANTO THIRD. 
 
 N the soft and fragrant gloom 
 Of a rose-embowered room, 
 Clarence stood at close of day, 
 His bosom yielding to the sway 
 Of hopes he vainly sought to hide 
 From her who, silent, stood beside 
 The window, gazing absently 
 At the slowly-darkening sky, — 
 A dark-robed figure, slender, tall, > 
 
 Whose presence breathed a charm around, 
 That soul and senses held in thrall, 
 Nameless and subtle, as profound. 
 If in the coils of her dark hair 
 It lay ; or in her regal air ; 
 Or in the magic of her smile ; 
 Or in her voice that could beguile 
 The soul from sadness, in its hour 
 Of bitterness, with gracious power ; 
 6i 
 
62 
 
 DESTINY. 
 
 Or in the lustre of her face, 
 
 Serene and pure ; or in the grace 
 
 That like the soul of Harmony 
 
 Informed each gesture ; or, if, free 
 
 From earthly trace, it shone, a light 
 
 From Heaven, within the infinite 
 
 And holy calm of her clear eyes, 
 
 Why seek to know ; enough that where 
 
 She came, as Summer brings blue skies 
 
 Benign, and tepid, odorous air, 
 
 She brought a sense of sweetness, blent 
 
 With airs serener, vaguely felt, 
 
 From some diviner element. 
 
 Wherein her purer spirit dwelt. 
 
 But over all a shadow lay, 
 
 As sometimes o'er the fairest day 
 
 A tender melancholy broods, 
 
 That spoke of desert solitudes 
 
 Within her being, doomed to lie 
 
 Blasted and bare beneath Life's sky — 
 
 Rocks from whence no sweet waters sprung; 
 
 Groves in whose gloomy shade no song 
 
 Of bird proclaimed to Heaven the joy 
 
DESTINY. 63 
 
 Of Being, dulled by no alloy 
 
 Of dark forebodings ; or the thrill 
 
 Of bitter memories, sadder still. 
 
 And now, as Clarence sought in vain 
 
 The passion that his voice betrayed 
 
 To hide, a vague, unwonted pain 
 
 Cast o'er her face a deeper shade. 
 
 More keen the pangs her breast that wrung, 
 
 To see a grief she could not heal, 
 
 Than any from the suffering sprung, 
 
 Of woes her heart alone might feel. 
 
 And fain, before the burning words 
 
 Found utterance, his lips that paled. 
 
 To silence would she bring the chords 
 
 Whose tones his secret soul unveiled. 
 
 Some dim reflection of this thought 
 
 Upon her face, the eye that caught 
 
 Of Clarence, cast o'er his bright dream, 
 
 Of Truth a chilling, daylight gleam. 
 
 A sickening sense of hopeless pain 
 
 Awhile the powers of heart and brain 
 
 Benumbed ; in dull oblivion sank 
 
 The glowing pictures that had graced 
 
64 DESTINY. 
 
 Existence, by Love's magic traced, 
 
 And left the page of Life a blank. 
 
 But 'midst the chaos of his soul, 
 
 Some instinct of his nature, still 
 
 That o'er his being held control, 
 
 Inspired with strength his fainting Will 
 
 To keep her state ; that if, indeed, 
 
 By Fate this misery were decreed, 
 
 His heart might 'round her dying throes, 
 
 Of Silence wrap the mantle, strong. 
 
 If not to bear, to hide the woes 
 
 With anguish that her fibres wrung. 
 
 And no discordant tone betrayed, 
 
 Though, low his accents, as he spoke, 
 
 That Fate had dealt his breast a stroke 
 
 His life a blighted thing that made 
 
 Henceforth, that flower nor fruit could yield 
 
 Of earthly growth again. The light 
 
 Within his eyes that had revealed 
 
 The hopes that lit his soul, the night 
 
 Had quenched, indeed, of Misery ; 
 
 And pale his brow ; yet calm and free 
 
 From shadows that might tell of dark, 
 
 Despairing thoughts. 
 
DESTINY. 65 
 
 '' My fragile bark, 
 Margaret," he said, " too near the shore 
 Has drifted, where the breakers roar 
 That menace shipwreck ; and while clear 
 Prom Reason's swiftly darkening sphere. 
 Some ray yet shines, her course to guide 
 Through stormy waves, though wind and tide 
 Onward with fatal power impel, 
 Back must I turn ; and so, farewell !" 
 
 " Nay, Clarence, let the sacred name 
 
 Of Friendship first," said Margaret, "claim 
 
 Its rights. Before the light, whose ray, 
 
 Serene and pure, my lonely way 
 
 Illumed awhile, is quenched again 
 
 In darkness, let it penetrate 
 
 With vital power, the abyss where Pain 
 
 With undisputed sway, her state 
 
 Has kept. The pangs she cannot cure, 
 
 Let Friendship teach this grief-wrung breast 
 
 With resignation to endure ; 
 
 And if not Happiness, find rest. 
 
 Long have I borne the bitterness 
 
66 DESTINY, 
 
 Of hidden grief ; long has my heart, 
 
 With Misery's elaborate art 
 
 That spun from her own wretchedness 
 
 Her shroud, in darkness lain. Behold, 
 
 O friend ! her tomb, where, dead and cold, 
 
 She lies, with this poor, withered rose," 
 
 Here from its shrine a casket rare 
 
 She took, and Clarence bade unclose 
 
 The sacred urn. With reverent care, 
 
 While Margaret bowed her head, he raised 
 
 The lid, and, pale and silent, gazed 
 
 Within, with memories of dead 
 
 And vanished joys, forever fled. 
 
 Where his last hope extinguished lay. 
 
 But as he gazed, a sudden ray 
 
 Of sacred joy from some pure spring, 
 
 Eternal and divine, its life 
 
 That took, his face, transfiguring 
 
 Its sorrow, lit ; so, when the strife 
 
 Of warring elements has ceased, 
 
 At some fierce tempest's close, though still 
 
 The sullen clouds hang dark and chill, 
 
 Obscuring heaven, far in the west 
 
DESTINY. 6/ 
 
 A gleam breaks forth, awhile the scene 
 
 That gilds with radiance serene 
 
 And cold till Night the dusky veil 
 
 Draw, of Oblivion, and shroud 
 
 In its soft folds alike the pale, 
 
 Clear sunlight, and the storm-rent cloud. 
 
 " So dead and cold, that when from Heaven," 
 
 Margaret resumed, "the summons came 
 
 For him, upon my heart whose claim 
 
 Was first and strongest, who -had given 
 
 My life its earliest joys, no thrill 
 
 Responsive there of pain it woke ; 
 
 Like some poor lute, by one rude stroke 
 
 Whose chords are shattered ; and no skill 
 
 Can move them more, of joy or grief 
 
 To breathe the accents — sweet as brief, 
 
 Alas ! the charmed melody 
 
 To Ernest's careless touch it gave." 
 
 Here Clarence took her hand with grave, 
 Sad tenderness. " Though not for me, 
 Margaret," he said, " the joys divine 
 From Love's celestial source that spring, 
 
68 DESTINY. 
 
 Yet let the happiness be mine, 
 To them I love those joys to bring 
 And though no flower my hand shall cull, 
 Whose seeds I plant, with gracious bloom 
 Thy future days that beautiful 
 And sweet shall make, if on my tomb, 
 When life, with all its joy and pain 
 And hope, is done, a wreath thou lay, 
 Of simple blossoms, not in vain, 
 For me, in Love's warm, vital ray 
 Their tender bloom shall they unfold ; 
 A lingering fragrance round my cold 
 And still repose their sweets shall shed ; 
 And oh ! if o'er my lowly bed, 
 Margaret, thou sometimes drop the tear 
 Of Friendship, not in vain the dear, 
 Bright dream my unawakened soul 
 With nobler longings that endowed, 
 Than she had known before." He bowed 
 His head, and sought to gain control 
 Over his grief at this. " Forgive 
 This selfish sorrow," he resumed, 
 " Dear friend ; the fire that has consumed 
 
DESTINY, 69 
 
 The altar, while the gifts survive 
 Untouched, to Love that I had raised, 
 Awhile has left me blind and dazed. 
 Darkness my soul must therefore seek, 
 And kind repose, before her weak 
 And troubled vision see aright. 
 Yet shall one ray of sacred light 
 Illume that darkness — oh ! more dear. 
 Reflected from the cloudless heaven 
 Of thy calm days, than aught that here 
 Fate could of brighter joys have given 
 My life, unsanctified by thee." 
 Again he paused • then calmly said : 
 " Let me at least the herald be 
 To thee, of Happiness ; not dead 
 The sacred fire its glow that cast 
 Over thy swiftly-shadowed Past. 
 Quenchless, the ashes cold beneath 
 Of Hope's fair fabric, by its own 
 Fierce strength in ruins laid, the breath 
 Of vitalizing airs has blown 
 To clearer light its flame ; and now 
 With warmth and light it shall endow 
 
70 DESTINY. 
 
 Thy being, cold and dark too long. 
 Margaret, to bear this joy be strong — 
 Ernest thy love than life more dear 
 Still holds ; with anguish torn his heart 
 Nor happiness, nor rest apart 
 From thee has known, and — he is near." 
 
 The swift blood mounting to her face, 
 As Clarence spoke, a moment dyed 
 Margaret's pale cheeks, then every trace 
 Of color, with its ebbing tide 
 Slowly departed ; to her breast, 
 Closing her eyes, her hand she pressed, 
 And would have fallen, but Clarence caught 
 Her lifeless form. A moment there — 
 A moment with the anguish fraught 
 And bliss of years, he held her fair, 
 Pale face upon his heart, beneath 
 That wildly beat ; her fragrant breath 
 A moment on his cheek he felt ; 
 Then on a low couch reverently 
 He placed her, and beside her knelt. 
 Unconscious still. " Margaret, for thee 
 
DESTINY. 71 
 
 Life means no longer suffering, 
 Regret, and soul-consuming strife," 
 He gently said ; " then oh ! to life 
 Return ; and joy that it shall bring 
 At last to thy long-sorrowing soul." 
 To her pale cheek the color stole 
 Softly, while Clarence spoke ; her eyes 
 Unclosing, slowly to his face 
 She raised them ; of her glad surprise 
 Remorse and pain usurped the place ; 
 And, "Clarence, oh ! forgive," she said, 
 Forgive the pangs that I have made 
 Thy heart to suffer — all too poor 
 My worth to recompense thy love. 
 Let Friendship to thy life restore 
 Its vanished brightness, and approve 
 Her sacred power — not less divine 
 Than that of Love himself r and when, 
 Dear friend, thy soul attains again 
 Her pure and lofty calm, some bright 
 And joyous life more blest than mine. 
 That never of the dreary night 
 Of Grief has felt the shadow chill — 
 
72 DESTINY. 
 
 Some fair young life unconscious still 
 
 Of Misery, shall 'round thee shed 
 
 Its sweet and gracious influence ; 
 
 And Love, when troubled dreams are fled^ 
 
 The crown at last, and recompense 
 
 Of days from darkness won shall be." 
 
 Clarence arose — " To me more dear, 
 
 Margaret," he said, ** the memory 
 
 Of Love that in its sepulchre 
 
 Now lies, than, clad in living bloom, 
 
 Earth's fairest vision of Delight. 
 
 Nor fear that, of the sacred light 
 
 That burns within that silent tomb, 
 
 The pallid ray shall gleam for ill, 
 
 Across my Qold and empty days. 
 
 No ; to the eye invisible 
 
 Of Sense, those spiritual rays, 
 
 Of higher things the images. 
 
 In transitory glimpses caught. 
 
 Shall fix upon my soul ; and these 
 
 Companionship shall bear me, fraught 
 
 With sweetness and content ; not all 
 
 Unhappy therefore is my lot, 
 
DESTINY. 71 
 
 Dear friend, nor let a shadow fall 
 O'er thine, more blest that it is not." 
 " O Clarence ! noble, generous soul ! " 
 Said Margaret, slowly as he raised 
 His eyes, and on the horizon gazed, 
 Where softly, deepening shadows stole, 
 Blending in one the earth and sky — 
 Clarence, beside thy pure and high 
 Ideal, how ignoble seems — 
 How poor and mean the life in dreams 
 Of Happiness its powers that wastes ! 
 Oh ! to the soul like thine, that tastes 
 Of springs eternal, of what worth 
 The shallow waters of our Earth, 
 That, when a little while the sun 
 Of Happiness has shone upon 
 Their clear and sparkling breast, exhale 
 Their life upon the passing gale ; 
 Or haply deeper, stagnant, breathe 
 Around, insidious, pain and death ! " 
 
 A flush suffused, as Margaret spoke, 
 The face of Clarence. " Nay," he said 
 
74 DESTINY. 
 
 Sadly, while from his bosom broke 
 A sigh ; " my spirit too has fed 
 At earthly sources, and if now 
 She turns to purer springs, no meed 
 She therefore claims ; to disallow, 
 Were vain, the pangs by Fate decreed." 
 He paused ; then slowly said : " Farewell ! 
 Too long the shadow of my grief 
 Has kept from thee the sunshine brief 
 That brightens Earth ; too long the spell 
 Has held thee captive, round thy young 
 And blameless life that Misery flung. 
 Margaret, that fatal spell to break — 
 From Fate to wrest, for thy dear sake. 
 Her secrets, that thy life may be 
 Henceforth from every shadow free, — 
 Be this my portion ; not in vain 
 Then shall my life have borne this pain 
 And bitterness ; nor breathe a sigh 
 For me, in Love's sweet harmony 
 Discord to make ; not all unblest 
 My lot, while Happiness thy breast 
 Her dwelling make ; her steps to guide 
 
DESTINY. 75 
 
 To thee, by ways too long untried, 
 
 Be now my task ; once more, farewell ! " 
 
 His face, as Clarence spoke the knell 
 Of Hope, grew paler ; but no sign 
 Of strife, the storm that raged within 
 His soul, betrayed ; he calmly held 
 The hand of Margaret in his own 
 A moment, while her bosom swelled 
 With silent anguish — and was gone. 
 Then, in her hands as Margaret bowed 
 Her face, — '' O Life ! " she cried aloud, 
 In bitterness, " hast thou no draught, 
 Indeed, of Joy, that may be quaffed. 
 Nor leave upon the lips, when past 
 Its sweetness, Sorrow's bitter taste ? 
 O noble heart ! the sacrifice 
 To Fate, must thou, by lingering fires 
 Consumed, with all thy high desires 
 Unsatisfied, for me the price 
 Too costly pay, of happiness ? " 
 In vain the weight that seemed to oppress 
 Her spirit, would she cast away. 
 
76 DESTINY, 
 
 But, powerless, yielded to its sway. 
 
 Through all the fibres of her soul 
 
 A penetrating sadness stole, 
 
 Sapping its strength ; too faint to fall, 
 
 Tears slowly gathered in her eyes, 
 
 Dimming her sight ; and life, and all 
 
 Life's joys seemed phantom mockeries. 
 
 Thus, while she drifted down the stream 
 
 Of Feeling, Thought, as in a dream 
 
 By Will unguided, on her ear 
 
 The sound that fell, of footsteps near, 
 
 Within her heart an echo woke. 
 
 That drew, as by the magic stroke 
 
 Of some enchanter's wand, her soul 
 
 From sorrow's unopposed control. 
 
 Swiftly life's languid current flowed 
 
 Again, again her bosom glowed 
 
 With Hope's undying fire, and all 
 
 Her being to Youth's natural. 
 
 Sweet impulses toward happiness 
 
 Blindly she yielded ; the embrace 
 
 In which, close-clasped on Ernest's breast 
 
 She lay, in one short moment, held. 
 
DESTINY. . 77 
 
 The bliss divine of perfect rest, 
 
 And all Love's magic power, revealed. 
 
 "" Margaret ! Beloved ! thy dear head 
 
 Do I indeed upon my heart 
 
 Hold once again ?" in tones, he said, 
 
 With passion tremulous ; " to part 
 
 On earth no more again, has Fate 
 
 My footsteps led to thee at last. 
 
 Through thorny ways, compassionate 
 
 For once to Misery ? The Past, 
 
 Oh ! dare I hope, has left no sting 
 
 Within thy soul, with subtle power 
 
 Thy life to poison at its spring, 
 
 And rob the Future of its dower 
 
 Of Hope and sweet expectance ? Speak ! 
 
 O Margaret ! bid me not despair. 
 
 Alas ! the roses on thy cheek 
 
 Have died, and left the lilies there 
 
 Alone — accusers mute that plead 
 
 For him, reluctant they condemn. 
 
 Ah ! sweet, my pardon do I read 
 
 Aright within thine eyes ? No dream 
 
78 DESTINY. 
 
 Of some lost state is Happiness? 
 No phantom that allures us on 
 With smiles, deceitful, and is gone, 
 Even while her form we seem to press 
 Close to our hearts ? Oh ! tell me thou, 
 If warm and breathing, here on Earth 
 She dwells, a guest of heavenly birth, 
 AV.ith sacred halo round her brow 
 That lingers still, of light divine ; 
 Oh ! tell me if the hope be mine. 
 Her hand in friendly clasp to take, 
 My guide to joys immortal. Make, 
 O Margaret ! make the assurance Sweet 
 Of bliss, with one dear word complete, — 
 Say that, unworthy though I be. 
 Some place thy heart still keeps for me." 
 
 " Ah ! Ernest, in my heart too deep 
 
 Is traced thine image, ever there 
 
 To be effaced ; or empire share 
 
 In it with aught," said Margaret ; "keep. 
 
 Beloved, this assurance ; this 
 
 Has been thy crime — to doubt my love." 
 
DESTINY. 79 
 
 "And let these altered features prove," 
 
 Ernest replied, " of slighted bliss 
 
 That I have paid the penalty." 
 
 "Thou, too, hast suffered then," a sigh 
 
 Her voice commoving, Margaret said. 
 
 And with caressing gesture laid 
 
 Her hand upon his cheek. His face 
 
 A sudden pallor overspread, 
 
 Then the returning blood a red, 
 
 Deep flush left there, in his embrace 
 
 As closer to his heart he caught 
 
 Again her form. " Oh ! cheaply bought 
 
 By years of misery,' he cried, 
 
 " This happiness. Beneath the wide, 
 
 O'erarching vault of Heaven lives 
 
 No creature in this hour more blest, 
 
 B)^ aught its care or wisdom gives, 
 
 Than I, its dearest treasure pressed 
 
 Thus to my heart. My pearl ! my flower ! 
 
 Henceforth shall all my life atone 
 
 For every pang thy heart has known ; 
 
 Henceforth the care of every hour 
 
 Shall be thy happiness. But, sweet, 
 
8o DESTINY. 
 
 This little hand is cold ; come, rest,* 
 He said, as to his lips he pressed 
 Her hand, and drew her to a seat, 
 Where, pillowed on his breast her head, 
 Silence a while they kept. At last. 
 Breaking the spell around them cast 
 By Love's sweet magic, of the Dead 
 With reverent tenderness they spoke, 
 And of the bitter Past, that woke 
 Within their hearts a pang again 
 Of anguish and unconquered pain, — 
 A pang that drew a keener force, 
 In Ernest's bosom, from remorse, 
 As Margaret told him how, by Death 
 And Absence solitary left, 
 She came, to find, of Joy bereft, 
 A haven of repose beneath 
 The roof her mother in the days 
 Of girlhood that had sheltered ; still 
 That sheltered in the peaceful ways 
 Of life, remote from storms that kill 
 The tender bloom of Being, her, 
 The friend and sister, wno the dear 
 
DESTINY. 8 1 
 
 Companion of those days had been. 
 Here in this calm and peaceful scene 
 She thought to nurse her grief, nor more, 
 A dweller on the busy shore 
 Of Life, to pleasure's perfumed gale, 
 Or Hope's fresh breeze the storm-rent sail 
 To unfurl again, of her frail bark ; 
 No more again to dare the dark 
 And stormy flood that holds within 
 Its depths the gem whose light serene 
 Gilds the repose from conflict won. 
 Then Ernest told how here he came, 
 His hopes destroyed, his peace undone, 
 A balm to seek in Friendship's name 
 To soothe the anguish of his soul. • 
 He came a pilgrim to the goal, 
 Within whose shadow, poppy-crowned, 
 In dreamless sleep Oblivion lies. 
 And lo ! her brow with roses bound, 
 Love's radiance in her starry eyes. 
 There Happiness to greet him stood. 
 Now by her soft, sweet accents wooed, 
 To heights divine his spirit soared, 
 
82 DESTINY. 
 
 On Hope's swift pinions borne. The Word 
 
 Supreme Creation's mysteries 
 
 Unlocking, through his soul in far, 
 
 Reverberating cadences, 
 
 Faint echoed, that from star to star, 
 
 Through space, in this transcendent hour 
 
 Of sacred Love's all-conquering power, 
 
 Soaring, a something more divine 
 
 Exulting owned, than all those bright 
 
 And glorious orbs with light that shine, 
 
 That, quenched, shall sleep in endless night 
 
 A something, to the Power that made 
 
 Those wonders, that proclaimed her kin — 
 
 That incorruptible, within 
 
 His being, when the splendors fade 
 
 That light this Universe, shall live, 
 
 And Time and Space themselves survive. 
 
 Oh ! could the sacred rapture last, 
 
 Thus that exalts the soul above 
 
 Her mortal state — could we but cast 
 
 Aside the bonds that make of Love 
 
 The slave of selfishness, then Earth 
 
 Might bear a nobler race, whose worth 
 
DESTINY. 83 
 
 Were equal to their Destiny ; 
 
 Then might Humanity her high 
 
 And glorious end attain ; then Truth 
 
 Should languish in her chains no more, 
 
 A captive Queen ; the soul might soar 
 
 Then to unconquered heights ; and Youth 
 
 Might realize her dreams. Alas ! 
 
 For us, too swift the moments pass, 
 
 To mortal vision that disclose 
 
 A fleeting glimpse of Heaven ; the fire 
 
 Divine, that Earth transfigures, glows 
 
 More bright, the sooner to expire ; 
 
 And all the splendors that in gleams 
 
 Of Inspiration we behold, 
 
 When we awaken from our dreams, 
 
 Leave but their ashes, dead and cold. 
 
 In speech by Hope interpreted. 
 While spoke the Future, swift away 
 The moments sped ; the tranquil day 
 A tranquil evening in its stead 
 Had left, by moonbeams softly lit, 
 Whose silvery lustre lent a pale, 
 
84 DBS TIN V. 
 
 Pure splendor to the scene. The veil 
 From mortal sight the Infinite 
 That hides, with all her myriad forms 
 And modes of Being — sleeping germs 
 Of worlds yet tenantless — extinct 
 And outworn worlds, with all that lies 
 Of Nature's wondrous mysteries 
 Of Life, between, together linked 
 In one unbroken chain, by Force 
 Creative, that the Universe 
 Harmonious guides unseen, — the veil 
 Between the worlds of Soul and Sense 
 Seemed in the solemn moonlight, pale 
 And softly bright, to grow less dense ; 
 And dimly shone to mortal view, 
 Of Life mysterious glimpses through. 
 The thought of Death, in that sweet hour 
 Of peaceful influence, lost its power 
 To chill the ardent soul ; a sleep 
 It seemed, beneficent and deep. 
 That separates, of two busy days 
 The activity ; and Pain and Strife — 
 Sin, and the misery of Life — 
 
DESTINY. 85, 
 
 Seemed, in the moon's pure, pallid rays, 
 
 More shadowy and unreal. High, 
 
 Calm thoughts of Immortality 
 
 Filled in that hour the soul, content, 
 
 Upon the Force Omnipotent, 
 
 To rest her hopes, that called her forth 
 
 From Nothingness, and made the Earthy 
 
 Fruitful and fair, her dwelling-place, — 
 
 Recipient of unearned grace. 
 
 But not for Ernest, though his soul, 
 
 Unconscious felt the sweet control 
 
 Of Nature's holy calm, the close 
 
 Of Day was fraught with such repose, 
 
 As with the pensive charm it lends 
 
 The hour, a subtle sadness blends ; 
 
 One thought alone, filled heart and brain — 
 
 He loved, and was beloved again. 
 
 Nor did he note the sigh suppressed, 
 
 Ere breathed, that gently stirred the breast 
 
 Of Margaret, as, with brow serene, 
 
 Though pale, and sad, yet tranquil mien, 
 
 Before her mind arose the form 
 
 Of Clarence, like some slender palm, 
 
S6 DESTINY. 
 
 That tossed and beaten by the storm, 
 
 Stands yet erect, nor mars the calm 
 
 Of Nature's fair aspect when past 
 
 The tempest, till its slow decay, 
 
 And bare and withered boughs at last 
 
 Its secret, cureless wound betray. 
 
 For well she knew that when the roots 
 
 That, hidden, deep and wide have struck, 
 
 Are wrenched by some convulsive shock, 
 
 And loosened from the earth, no fruits 
 
 Can crown the tree's fair promise — dead 
 
 Amidst the activity it stands, 
 
 Of Nature, and by sunshine fed 
 
 In vain, no more with bloom expands. 
 
 These troubled thoughts upon her brow 
 
 A shadow cast, as, " Margaret, now," 
 
 Said Ernest, " Earth can hold no ill 
 
 For me henceforth ; for Death shall still 
 
 United keep us when his dart 
 
 Our hearts shall pierce together. One, 
 
 One ill incurable alone 
 
 My soul could know — from thee to part.** 
 
 In Margaret's breast the vague, dumb pain 
 
DESTINY. Zj 
 
 That pity and remorse awoke, 
 
 She sought to hide from him in vain, 
 
 In tender accents as he spoke, 
 
 His eyes upon her fixed ; too well 
 
 Her heart the fatal knowledge proved. 
 
 That not alone to be beloved. 
 
 And love again, can break the spell 
 
 Over our human destinies 
 
 That hangs for ill ; so subtly these 
 
 Are linked together, each still gives 
 
 Again the impulse it receives, 
 
 In ceaseless change ; as waves that take 
 
 Their swell in northern tempests, break 
 
 On tropic islands ; or, as sound 
 
 Once wakened, to its furthest bound 
 
 Through space reverberates. The shade 
 
 Upon her countenance betrayed 
 
 At last to Ernest that some grief 
 
 That found not in his love relief, 
 
 On Margaret's heart lay heavy ; " Speak, 
 
 Beloved, have I lost indeed," 
 
 He cried, "of Love the glorious meed. 
 
 Through senseless folly, blind and weak ? " 
 
88 DESTINY. 
 
 " Nay, Ernest," Margaret answered, " take 
 This rose, that, treasured for thy sake, 
 The witness of my tears has been, 
 And read, its faded bloom within, 
 What life has held for me of fair 
 Or bright, since first, the emblem there, 
 Of Love, within its tomb it lay, 
 Though blighted, fragrant in decay." 
 
 Like waves with mighty force that roll, 
 Each footprint sweeping from the shore, 
 The Past came surging o'er his soul. 
 As Margaret spoke, with deepening roar,, 
 From Memory's caverns, in its course 
 Effacing all the glowing hues 
 That Love and Hope around diffuse, 
 Beneath the tide of vain remorse. 
 
 " O Margaret ! let Oblivion 
 
 Forever shroud that fatal hour," 
 
 He cried, " when yielding to the power 
 
 Of foes in darkness leagued, her throne 
 
 Reason awhile forsook. That crime, 
 
DESTINY. 89 
 
 That all too short to expiate 
 
 Were life, from off the scroll of Time 
 
 Let Love efface, compassionate 
 
 To madness by himself inspired. 
 
 Oh ! if my spirit had aspired 
 
 To joys less perfect, less divine, 
 
 Not now the bliss, the pain were mine, 
 
 That only on his worshippers 
 
 Devout and true, the god confers. 
 
 But o'er thy soul some shadow lies, 
 
 Beloved, that its depths conceals ; 
 
 No longer in thy limpid eyes 
 
 The light its every thought reveals. 
 
 Some hidden grief lies cold between 
 
 Thy heart and mine. Alas ! too lat^ 
 
 With bitter mockery has Fate 
 
 Back to my arms restored, serene, ' 
 
 And fair of aspect still, indeed, 
 
 The form inanimate of Love ? 
 
 Oh ! must my heart the anguish prove, 
 
 The bitterest to the soul decreed, 
 
 Of lavishing endearments vain 
 
 On ears that hear not, lips again 
 
go DESTINY. 
 
 That answer not, of Death the prey ? 
 
 Less bitter were it in the tomb 
 
 To hide his lifeless form away, 
 
 Than one by one, watch grace and bloom 
 
 And every fair delight depart, 
 
 O Margaret ! if indeed thy heart 
 
 Through loyalty to Love alone, 
 
 Now wears his bonds to fetters grown — 
 
 If Pity hath beguiled thy soul 
 
 Awhile from Reason's calm control, 
 
 And thy unselfish nature takes 
 
 For Happiness the sacrifice. 
 
 Accustomed, gladly that it makes. 
 
 Nor deems too high the costly price, 
 
 Forever though it leave thee poor. 
 
 That buys another's peace — oh ! blot 
 
 From Time this hour, and count it not 
 
 In the fair record of thy pure 
 
 And calm existence. Let me go. 
 
 And bear with me my cureless woe ; 
 
 Less wretched thus, than day by day 
 
 To see the blossoms fall away 
 
 From Love's fair tree, beneath the breath 
 
DESTINY. 91 
 
 Of chill indifference, till bare 
 
 It stands, yet nor the peace of Death 
 
 Nor Life's activity may share." 
 
 A glance reproachful, full of pain 
 And sadness, Margaret, as he ceased, 
 On Ernest cast. " My heart again," 
 She gently said, " awhile released, 
 Too credulous, from Misery's sway, 
 Is ready on her joyless way 
 Lonely to wander ; in thy mind 
 Too wide suspicion's poison-weed 
 Has spread, to perish, nor behind, 
 Ernest, leave still its deadly seed. 
 Then, ere to growth untimely nursed 
 By Passion's heat, the bloom it kill 
 Of Love's first blossoming ; while still 
 The image of that Love, as erst. 
 Serene and steadfast, may survive, 
 A sacred Memory in my heart — 
 Let us in peace forever part, 
 Nor wait the death Distrust must give 
 At last to Love." As Margaret ceased. 
 
92 DESTINY. 
 
 The flush of anger that o'erspread 
 
 The face of Ernest, in his breast 
 
 Betrayed the tempest. " Rather dead, 
 
 Now in thy heart," he cried, "lies Love, 
 
 Thus calmly that thy words approve 
 
 A sentence that for me Despair 
 
 And Madness means. Yes, let thy fair. 
 
 Smooth tongue to cold indifference 
 
 Transfer the speech of Reason. Bring, 
 
 And call on Heaven the vain pretence 
 
 To sanctify, thy offering — 
 
 The worthless plaything of a day — 
 
 Before Love's sacred shrine to lay. 
 
 Oh ! had thy heart the bitterness 
 
 Of absence known, the anguish vain 
 
 Of hopeless love, not now again 
 
 Thus calm could'st thou the lot embrace- 
 
 Our parting that decrees — for me 
 
 Soon shall my suffering cease to be." 
 
 Then in dejection on the seat 
 
 He sank, from which in passion's heat 
 
 He had arisen. The deepening gloom 
 
 Of night, and silence, filled the room. 
 
DESTINY. 93 
 
 A moment Margaret paused ; then said, 
 
 In gentle accents, as she laid 
 
 Her hand upon his shoulder . " Nay, 
 
 Ernest, within thy soul her sway 
 
 Let Reason hold again. Too well 
 
 Thou knowest that within my heart 
 
 Thy image shall forever dwell, 
 
 To think, though thou and Fate should part 
 
 Our destinies, that Fate or thou 
 
 From Memory's power could free me now." 
 
 The Moon behind a passing cloud 
 A moment that had veiled her light. 
 Here through the windows poured a flood 
 Of silver splendor, softly bright. 
 Touched by its glory, to his view 
 Disclosed, her face, as Margaret ceased. 
 That bore of pain the pallid hue. 
 Remorse and anguish in the breast 
 Of Ernest woke. " O deadly draught ! " 
 He cried, " my eager lips that quaffed, 
 Has Nature for thy poison, then, 
 In all her stores no antidote ? 
 
94 DESTINY. 
 
 And shall the spirit drink in vain 
 Of healing waters, when the hot 
 And scathing breath of Jealousy 
 Has once passed over her ? To be 
 The willing slave of that she scorns, 
 Must she descend ? O Margaret ! leave 
 To misery that too well she earns ; 
 The soul that could from thee receive 
 Her crown of Love, yet counterfeit 
 Would prove its jewels. Fate has set 
 Her seal upon me ; and mine eyes 
 With blindness hath she struck, the path 
 Heedless that I might tread, to Death 
 That leads, and madness. I the price 
 Alone must pay, nor drag thee down 
 To those unfathomed depths where lie 
 In wait Despair and Misery. 
 Farewell ! forget that thou hast known 
 One in whose grasp the perfect Flower 
 Of Happiness a moment lay ; 
 But, driven to madness by the power 
 Of fatal spells, who cast away 
 Its petals to the winds ; yet kept, 
 
DESTINY. 95 
 
 Of sweets within its heart that slept, 
 The memory in his soul to make 
 Accurst existence for its sake." 
 
 ** Ernest," said Margaret, as he ceased, 
 " Thy hand remorseless, all too late 
 A bond would sever, that has passed, 
 Alas ! beyond the power of Fate. 
 Go, then ; but bear within thy heart 
 The assurance that, from life with thee 
 The beauty and the joy depart. 
 To bloom no more on earth for me." 
 
 " Margaret ! " cried Ernest, " oh ! forget 
 The madness that my soul has held 
 In fatal thrall. Here at thy feet 
 Let me for pardon sue, that sealed 
 With those kind drops that in thine eyes 
 Now stand, the Gates of Paradise 
 Again shall open for me. Speak ! 
 To anguish doomed, and endless pain, 
 Beloved, shall I sue in vain ? " 
 
96 DESTINY. 
 
 He paused ; a flush suffused her cheek, 
 As bending down, her lips to his 
 She pressed ; and softly said : " Be this 
 The seal of pardon and of peace 
 Between us, Ernest ! so my love 
 Shall, justified, her power approve 
 To vanquish evil spells, thy soul 
 That held in their unblest control." 
 
 " Oh ! may my soul forever lose 
 
 'Twixt Good and 111 the grace to choose,' 
 
 Said Ernest, " if this sacred hour 
 
 She e'er forget, or to the power 
 
 Of Darkness yield again. At last, 
 
 Margaret, believe that madness past 
 
 Forever from the soul by thee 
 
 Thus consecrated. Let me be, 
 
 Here and hereafter by the slow 
 
 And subtle fires of vain remorse 
 
 Consumed, if e'er thy spirit know 
 
 A pang in me that has its source." 
 
 And Margaret, as on Ernest's breast 
 
DESTINY. 97 
 
 Her weary heart awhile found rest, 
 Her silent vows preferred to Heaven 
 That to his spirit might be given 
 Indeed the simple faith that seeks 
 No evil in the thing it loves ; 
 But gladly to the voice that speaks 
 Of Goodness lends an ear, that moves 
 The soul to sweet contentment. Fain 
 Would she believe her vows in vain 
 Were offered not ; yet when at last 
 Ernest was gone, and o'er her dreams 
 The sun of Happiness his beams 
 Softly diffused, some shadow cast 
 By clouds unseen, her soul with chill 
 JForbodings filled of coming ill. 
 
CANTO FOURTH 
 
 PIRIT ! enthroned upon eternal heights 
 Who sittest, Virtue, clad in light serene 
 Thou offerest to mortals no delights, 
 In thy effulgent majesty unseen, 
 Save, when the veil by anguish rent, the soul 
 Stands bare in thy dread presence, and with calm 
 And tranquil mien thou pointest to the goal 
 Beneath thy feet ; thou offerest no balm 
 To heal her bleeding wounds, yet at thy shrine 
 She pours in glad libation the life-blood 
 Of her mortality ; for thou divine 
 Unchanging witness to the living God 
 Dost bear, when, spurning, of her high desires 
 Unworthy, Earth's best gifts, to Immortality 
 And all its glorious attributes, by thee 
 Foreshadowed dimly, proudly she aspires. 
 Thou, through heroic souls, from age to age 
 The sacred fire who hast kept alive, 
 
 98 
 
DESTINY. 99 
 
 With vital breath of Truth our heritage, 
 
 Kindle to nobler heat our spirits, that we strive 
 
 More earnestly the glorious heights to attain. 
 
 Whereon thou dwellest, though each footstep leave 
 
 Its trace in blood ; knoAving the soul through Pain 
 
 Alone her consecration may receive 
 
 To thy pure service ; so were Earth of Right 
 
 The holy Temple, lit by thy transfiguring light 
 
 The Summer sun declining shed 
 
 A softened splendor o'er the scene. 
 
 As Clarence with dejected head 
 
 Sat all unconscious of the green 
 
 And smiling landscape that around 
 
 Its fresh and glowing charms displayed; 
 
 His steadfast gaze bent on the ground 
 
 In far abstraction that betrayed, 
 
 Though past the strife, the victory won, 
 
 Still in his soul that each desire 
 
 Laid on the altar, one by one, 
 
 Of Virtue, there in flames to expire, 
 
 Kindled by his own hand, had left 
 
 Its shade behind to haunt his dreams 
 
 And solitary hours, bereft 
 
lOO DESTINY, 
 
 Forever of Hope's vit^l beams, 
 For never more the cheerful Dawn 
 Before whose splendors phantoms flee, 
 Might break upon his soul, withdrawn 
 Forever from her ministry. 
 No more ; yet therefore not all dark 
 For him Life's sky ; for in his breast 
 , Glowed a divine and deathless spark, 
 Its light that o'er the shadowy West 
 Now cast, toward which his inward gaze 
 Was turned, with radiance cold and clear 
 Touching its gloom, till kindling rays 
 Of glory through the atmosphere 
 Spread softly, and his soul stretched forth 
 Her wings, to clasp the Infinite, 
 That in the anguish of this birth 
 Of nobler powers, to her sight 
 Grew dimly visible. Thus caught 
 His spirit to far heights of Thought, 
 Borne on the breeze the hollow sound 
 Of fiery hoofs that beat the ground, 
 Approaching swiftly, rudely broke 
 The spell that held him, and awoke 
 
DESTINY. loi 
 
 Within his breast a vague, wild fear 
 Of de dly peril, drawing near. 
 Peril to those he loved ; for him — 
 No more might Fate, with aspect grim 
 Affright his soul ; for Hope no more, 
 With syren voice to Pleasure's shore 
 Could lure him now ; and he who spreads 
 No sail, the storm-tost ocean dreads 
 No longer — bitter recompense 
 Of Pain, that from the flames intense 
 Alone, where Happiness expires, 
 Spring in the soul the deathless fires 
 To being, that for her illume. 
 Serene, the darkness of the tomb. 
 
 Before his Thought could shape the Fear 
 Its shadow chill that o'er him cast — 
 Of Fate the phantom-harbinger — 
 The wild-eyed coursers, hurrying past 
 In aimless flight, with grasp of steel 
 Had Clarence caught ; and now he lay 
 Pale on the ground, insensible 
 To Ernest's accents that betray. 
 
I02 DESTINY. 
 
 As over him he bends, such pain 
 As Reason seeks to soothe in vain. 
 
 Dumb witnesses of his despair, 
 
 With quivering nostrils now they stand, 
 
 And foam-fleet sides, all trembling there, 
 
 Who wrought this woe, though Ernest's hand 
 
 No longer holds the reins that hang 
 
 Loose on their necks, where when he sprang 
 
 To succor Clarence, as he fell, 
 
 He threw them ; in their gaze remorse 
 
 And helpless anguish seem to dwell, 
 
 In something that might take their source 
 
 Akin to our Humanity. 
 
 Passive they stand, while long in vain 
 
 The senses Ernest seeks to free 
 
 Of Clarence from the leaden chain 
 
 That holds them bound. At last a sigh. 
 
 Deep-drawn, and faint — a sightless gaze 
 
 That slowly in the awakening eye 
 
 Grows conscious with the dawning rays 
 
 Of Reason ; then a pallid smile, 
 
 Toward Ernest as he looks, the while 
 
DESTINY. 103 
 
 Whose heart stands still, and life in slow 
 And fluctuating tide to flow- 
 Once more begins ; once more the bond 
 Of Nature joins in friendly clasp 
 Their souls, before the dim Beyond 
 Could Clarence, groping darkly, grasp. 
 
 " O fatal hour ! when first thine eyes 
 
 The wretch beheld who in the guise 
 
 Of Friendship," Ernest cried, " the cause 
 
 Of suffering thus was doomed to be, 
 
 Clarence, in his despite to thee, 
 
 His savior — the eternal laws 
 
 Of Justice breaking, that ordain 
 
 To Evil the award of Pain, 
 
 To Virtue Happiness. O Fate ! 
 
 To me who prodigal too late 
 
 Hast ever been, must all indeed 
 
 Who love me, then, receive the meed 
 
 Of those, beneath the deadly shade. 
 
 Who resting, of the Upas, breathe 
 
 Destruction unaware, betrayed 
 
 By its fair seeming to their death ! " 
 
104 DESTINY. 
 
 '' Nay, Ernest," faintly with a smile 
 
 Said Clarence, '' let not grief beguile 
 
 Thy Reason thus ; did Virtue lend 
 
 Her help, secure that in the end 
 
 Nor loss nor suffering could she know, 
 
 Like knights of old romance, with steel 
 
 Enchanted, fighting, every foe 
 
 Who conquered, sovereign balm to heal 
 
 Their wounds, the while they carried, where 
 
 Were then her merit ? Then her fair 
 
 Exterior were hypocrisy. 
 
 Her godlike speech were but a lie. 
 
 But call not by so high a name 
 
 As Virtue, Nature's impulse blind 
 
 The help the meanest wretch should claim 
 
 Freely, to give him in whose mind 
 
 No thought untrue to me could live ; 
 
 Who freely, as I freely give 
 
 My life, his life would give for me — 
 
 That were to wrong Humanity." 
 
 The pallid smile forsook his lips 
 At this ; he closed his eyes, and life 
 
DESTINY. 105 
 
 Again was lost in brief eclipse, 
 
 While in his breast a silent strife 
 
 Destruction waged with Nature — fierce 
 
 As silent, while the Universe 
 
 For Ernest on that moment hung 
 
 Of all Eternity. At last 
 
 From anguish Fate, to whom he clung 
 
 With wild despair, while through him passed 
 
 Her sword, to Ernest's bosom gave 
 
 A respite short ; and her decree 
 
 Uttered, from which no power can save, 
 
 A treacherous tranquillity 
 
 Now in her aspect takes the place 
 
 Of menace and of wrath ; the face 
 
 Of Clarence once again the light 
 
 Of life's returning glow illumes ; 
 
 And once again the day is bright 
 
 For Ernest Friendship that entombs. 
 
 Illusive brightness that, alas ! 
 
 For him before the day is done 
 
 Is turned to darkness that shall pass 
 
 Away with no returning sun. 
 
 For now at last the fatal truth 
 
I06 DESTINY. 
 
 His soul has grasped, that with the high 
 And glorious promise of his Youth 
 Crushed in the bud must Clarence die. 
 Die, while within his veins the tide 
 Of life flows strong, while in his soul 
 Youth's sacred fire burns clear to guide 
 His footsteps to the exalted goal 
 Of Manhood's dearest hope — to Man 
 The tidings of his worth to bear — 
 That all the noblest spirit can, 
 He by his Manhood too may dare 
 To teach the lowest wretch that lives — 
 That Nature to her children gives 
 Alike the sacred right to unfold 
 The glorious possibilities 
 Of their Humanity, untold. 
 Undreamed of yet — that to be wise 
 Is the prerogative of none. 
 Wisdom by toil who has not won 
 And suffering — that to be great 
 Is of the man, not of his state — 
 That Happiness eludes the grasp 
 Forever, that would rudely clasp 
 
DESTINY. 107 
 
 Her form ethereal, and bestows 
 
 On him alone her dewy rose, 
 
 Who with his sweat the niggard soil 
 
 Moistens through unremitting toil, 
 
 That others gather of the bloom 
 
 Tardy it bear, above his tomb 
 
 Forgotten, though it fill the air 
 
 With fragrance. On the souls of men 
 
 These sacred truths to engrave, that there 
 
 The high Ideal might attain 
 
 To clearness, of a nobler life. 
 
 He proudly hoped, and 'midst the strife 
 
 And sorrows of our lot might shine, 
 
 Foreshadowing dimly things Divine. 
 
 And now as some fair blossom, still 
 
 While in its heart the fruitful germ 
 
 Lies hid, whose bloom and swtetness fill 
 
 The air with promise, by some storm 
 
 Is rudely crushed, its barren bloom 
 
 Back to the elements again 
 
 Restoring ; so into the tomb 
 
 Must Clarence sink — the dreams in vain 
 
 That he had dreamed — the proud hopes nursed — 
 
I08 DESTINY. 
 
 Swift to the elements dispersed, 
 
 Pale shades to haunt the air, nor take 
 
 Substance from him, Humanity 
 
 To help, her chains that she might break, 
 
 And claim her lofty destiny. 
 
 This thought to Ernest's anguish lent 
 A keener force his soul that rent, 
 As over Clarence where he lay 
 Pallid upon his couch, he hung, 
 While o'er the west the closing day 
 A gold and crimson splendor flung. 
 " Friend of my soul ! O Clarence, thou," 
 He cried, " who life to me hast given, 
 Am I then doomed to lose thee now. 
 Myself the cause ? Is there in Heaven 
 No mercy to stretch forth a hand 
 And save me from the dread abyss 
 Upon whose fatal brink I stand ? 
 Can then such misery be as this ? 
 Oh ! do our hearts for nothing count 
 In Nature's cruel plan ? The groans 
 Wrung from our anguish, do they mount 
 
DESTINY, 109 
 
 To Heaven to return unheard, 
 And echo through the heart in tones 
 That pierce its fibres like a sword ? " 
 
 " Nay, Ernest," Clarence gently said, 
 " Let not thy spirit wildly thus 
 Struggle with Fate ; nor think for us 
 Alone the universe was made, 
 That Nature in her course must pause, 
 If her unchanging, sleepless laws 
 Show in their justice of how slight 
 And baseless value is the right 
 We claim to be her master. Power 
 Of knowledge is the priceless dower ; 
 And only when his right he proves 
 To win, for that herself he loves, 
 This royal bride, will she bestow 
 All that she has with generous hand 
 Upon her lover, and forego, 
 That proudly at her side he stand, 
 For him her solitary state. 
 But Ernest, these reflections grate 
 Now on thy soul I see. To part 
 
no DESTINY. 
 
 From thee thou thinkest moves my heart 
 
 Too slightly. Yet not so ; but fain 
 
 Would I again, as once before, 
 
 Depriving of its sting the pain 
 
 That racks thy spirit, peace restore 
 
 And strength to thee ; that so the wound, 
 
 When Faite divides our lives, profound 
 
 Although it be, and leave a scar 
 
 Forever, fester not, thy days 
 
 To poison." Here he paused ; afar 
 
 Upon the fading light his gaze 
 
 He fixed. On Ernest then his eyes 
 
 Turning, a pity infinite 
 
 Within their depths, he said : " The night 
 
 Is drawing near, and from the skies 
 
 Darkness falls slow and silent, soon 
 
 To wrap in her soft folds the Earth. 
 
 But yonder see the crescent Moon 
 
 With tender radiance shine, the dearth 
 
 Of warmer light supplying ; so 
 
 Shall Memory with reflected beams 
 
 Cast o'er thy darkened sky a glow 
 
 Serene from Friendship's vanished dreams." 
 
DESTINY. 1 1 1 
 
 " O Clarence ! torture not my soul 
 With these vain words that cannot stay 
 The surging waves that o'er her roll 
 Of anguish," Ernest cried ; "her sway 
 Must Reason to a stronger power 
 Yield in my breast. I only know 
 That Destiny has in this hour 
 Struck at my peace a fatal blow." 
 
 At this a shadow overspread 
 The face of Clarence ; then he said ; 
 " Ernest, draw nearer ; lay thy hand 
 In mine, and let us converse hold, 
 Such as do friends, to some far land 
 When one departs, who then unfold, 
 Each to the other every thought 
 Within his breast that hidden lies ; 
 So face to face their spirits brought, 
 They dwell in the Eternities ; 
 Nor Time nor Space shall keep apart 
 Their souls henceforward. In thy heart 
 Shall I not then still live to keep 
 Thy spirit sweet companionship ? 
 
112 DESTINY. 
 
 Shall not my spirit still endure, 
 Ernest, a power to mould for thee 
 Existence with a touch as sure 
 As though beside thee bodily 
 I walked ; and shall thy hand not take 
 The work that here I leave undone, 
 A sacred trust that for my sake 
 Wilt thou fulfil ; with each new sun 
 That lights thee to thy task, the vow 
 Renewing that thou mak'st me now?" 
 
 " O Clarence ! would that never more 
 For me might dawn again the light 
 That thy dear face cannot restore," 
 Said Ernest, " to my aching sight ! 
 Would that my worthless life for thine 
 Now could I on the blood-stained shrine 
 Of Destiny lay down, or share 
 With thee Oblivion ! " 
 
 " O friend ! " 
 Said Clarence, " fearest thou then the end 
 Of all is this indeed ? that there, 
 In yon illimitable space 
 
DESTINY. 113 
 
 For me exists henceforth no place ; 
 
 That this mysterious, viewless Power 
 
 Within me, for one little hour 
 
 That has endowed with faculties \ 
 
 And form divine the atoms brought 
 
 Together by its force, when these. 
 
 Dispersed, but not destroyed, have sought 
 
 Again their source, for that thou see 
 
 Its course no more, shall cease to be ? 
 
 No, while the Universe shall last. 
 
 This Power within me that its vast 
 
 And mighty scheme aspires to grasp — 
 
 This Power, exulting that would clasp 
 
 The Infinite, from height to height 
 
 Soaring, in ever bolder flight. 
 
 Till all the secrets of the spheres 
 
 Before her open lie ; yet hears, 
 
 'Mid syren voices that allure. 
 
 Or deafening trumpet-tones, the still. 
 
 Small Voice that says : ' The Law fulfil, 
 
 For this is Life Eternal,' — sure 
 
 And steadfast is the trust I hold, 
 
 That while the Universe shall be. 
 
114 DESTINY. 
 
 This Power that claims Infinity 
 
 As her true portion^that would mould 
 
 Thus to her higher uses Earth — 
 
 That whatso'er it know of worth 
 
 Gives to her dwelling, shall not own 
 
 Obedience to a law less just 
 
 Than governs matter ; dust to dust 
 
 Returning, so, when from the zone 
 
 She vanish, of our mortal sight, 
 
 Shall spirit seek companionship 
 
 With spirit ; through what times of sleep 
 
 Or of eclipse she pass — what light 
 
 Her entrance on a higher stage 
 
 Shall guide, of Being, know I not ; 
 
 But this I know, as knew the sage 
 
 Of old, that whatso'er his lot, 
 
 To him who follows Virtue still, 
 
 In Life or Death can come no ill." 
 
 *' Clarence ! " cried Ernest, as he ceased^ 
 His eyes fixed on the darkening sky, 
 In rapt abstraction, half-released 
 The while, his spirit seemed to be 
 
DESTINY. 115 
 
 From earthly bonds — " Oh ! with what words. 
 
 Would'st thou console the anguish vain 
 
 That rends my soul — her deepest chords 
 
 Thus to unutterable pain, 
 
 Moving with gentle touch. Oh ! now 
 
 Indeed I know my wretchedness. 
 
 Now when thou teachest me to bow 
 
 To Destiny, thy power to bless 
 
 My life, in losing thee, I know. 
 
 Yet, fear not that I would forego 
 
 The sacred hope again to own 
 
 The bond that joins my life to thine. 
 
 No ! from the depths of the Unknown, 
 
 Clarence, thy soul a star shall shine 
 
 To guide me safely to the Land 
 
 No longer strange to me, since there 
 
 Shalt thou to give me welcome stand, 
 
 Who with thee half my life dost bear." 
 
 Again, as Ernest ceased, a shade 
 Of pain that o'er the features passed 
 Of Clarence, in his breast betrayed 
 The struggle ; though his soul had cast 
 
Il6 DESTINY. 
 
 Aside indeed the bonds tg life 
 
 And all the joys of life that held 
 
 Her fettered still, not yet the strife 
 
 Had ceased, that now the strength revealed 
 
 To her of human sympathies. 
 
 The burden that he could not ease 
 
 For Ernest, of the grief that pressed 
 
 With crushing weight upon his breast, 
 
 Fell back on his own heart to lie. 
 
 Unyielding there until the hand 
 
 Of Death from every earthly band. 
 
 With power supreme his soul should free. 
 
 Yet soon had vanished every trace 
 
 Of strife and suffering from his face ; 
 
 And calm his accents, as he said. 
 
 The while with gentle touch he laid 
 
 On Ernest's hand his own. " So I, 
 
 To other realms when I depart. 
 
 With thee shall leave the nobler part, 
 
 Dear friend, of my Mortality ; 
 
 All the high hopes within my soul 
 
 That I had cherished — to unroll 
 
 The banner of the sacred rights 
 
DESTINY. wj 
 
 Of men on Freedom's glorious heights ; 
 
 Of Truth the champion, to throw down 
 
 The gauntlet in her cause, nor cease 
 
 The strife till Victory should crown 
 
 Her brow with garlands green of Peace, — 
 
 These hopes, that in the bud for me 
 
 Have fallen blighted from Life's tree, 
 
 For thee shall bloom and bear sweet fruit 
 
 To nourish men ; for deep their root 
 
 Lies in a generons soil ; and dews 
 
 From heaven, and sunshine shall infuse, 
 
 Fear not, into the sap that feeds 
 
 Their life, a vital power, the needs 
 
 Supplying of thdir growth. And one, 
 
 One other trust when I am gone, 
 
 Ernest, with thee I leave ; and now, 
 
 Already when upon my brow 
 
 The hand of Death lies cold, to thee 
 
 Must I unveil my soul, nor keep 
 
 One chamber there where thou shalt be 
 
 A stranger ; falling thus asleep 
 
 Before thee, I shall say : ' Good-night,* 
 
 Knowing that all is well ; nor fear 
 
Il8 DESTINY. 
 
 For thee nor me the morning light 
 From slumber that shall wake us. Hear 
 The secret, then, within my heart 
 That I have guarded ; and if thine, 
 Ernest, with keener pangs the dart 
 Of pain pierce therefore, yet benign 
 The wound, for that the poison there 
 Of treachery lurks not, it shall heal 
 Before the gangrene of Despair 
 To Joy alike insensible 
 And Grief can make it." Here he paused 
 A moment, then in accents low 
 Resumed : "If ever I have caused 
 Thee aught of ill, before I go. 
 First would I from thy love the boon 
 Claim, of forgiveness." 
 
 " Oh ! not thou," 
 Cried Ernest, " in oblivion 
 Dost need to hide thy deeds, nor bow 
 The head in penitence. For me 
 The bitterness of vain remorse ! 
 For me the grasp of Misery, 
 The soul that with resistless force 
 
DESTINY. 119 
 
 Drags to unfathomed depths. My love, — 
 O mockery ! that it should prove 
 Thus powerless — with all of worth 
 It owns, already have I given 
 To thee, vain gift ! and if, henceforth. 
 My spirit with this anguish riven, . 
 Knows here no peace, so shall she know 
 The sooner Peace eternal." 
 
 " Nay," 
 Said Clarence, " do we tread the way 
 Of life, to gather flowers that grow 
 Beside us then, with tears and cries 
 Of pain the thorns and darkening skies 
 Like children greeting ? Sink not down 
 Despairing, Ernest, from thy crown 
 Of bloom that some few blossoms fall, 
 Though they be fair and fragrant ; all 
 The beauty is not therefore gone 
 From life ; still shines in heaven the sun ; 
 Still blows the morning breeze ; and still 
 Canst thou, alike through Good and 111 
 Cling to one faithful hand." Again 
 He paused ; again his brow with pain 
 
I20 DESTINY. 
 
 Was clouded ; then he said : " Of her 
 Whom here I leave, the minister, 
 When I am gone, of Peace to thee, 
 Now would I speak, dear friend. When first 
 Tne heights to which Humanity- 
 May climb, a revelation burst 
 Upon my soul in Margaret, then 
 The hope divine those heights to attain, 
 Led by her hand, awhile I kept, 
 A secret treasure in my breast — 
 Nay, friend, look not so pale ; the rest 
 Is quickly told. This hope that slept 
 In darkness and in silence, soon. 
 Like some bright vision of the night. 
 Dispelled by daylight's chilling light, 
 Again into Oblivion 
 Sank, to the truth when it awoke." 
 A flush of shame, as Clarence spoke, 
 The face of Ernest overspread ; 
 Then every trace of color fled. 
 And l^ft the pallor of despair 
 And unavailing anguish there. 
 
 " For me, predestined to destroy," 
 
DESTINY, 121 
 
 He cried, '"'' for thee the light and joy 
 
 Of life — to whom blind Fate has given, 
 
 While thou with empty hands stood by 
 
 Silent, the choicest gift of Heaven, 
 
 Thou on the shrine of Destiny 
 
 Thy life hast laid, a sacrifice ; 
 
 For mine the inestimable price 
 
 Paid, of thy life that might atone 
 
 For many a wrong that Earth has known — 
 
 O Clarence ! tell me for this grief 
 
 Is there in Earth or Heaven relief?" 
 
 '' Nay, have I wrought thee, then, a wrong 
 So deep ? " said Clarence ; "" so thy heart 
 Must find in this when I depart, 
 The medicine to make it strong 
 To bear its pain — that all of worth 
 That in me dwells, go not with me 
 From hence, but with my memory 
 Live in thy life, to better Earth." 
 
 *' Oh ! fear not that the price in vain, 
 Clarence," cried Ernest, "hast thou paid; 
 
122 DESTINY. 
 
 No ; while my spirit shall retain 
 
 Her consciousness, this hour shall fade 
 
 Never from Memory, nor the vow 
 
 Be broken that I make thee now. 
 
 Henceforth my days I dedicate 
 
 To this — the promise to redeem, 
 
 That Nature, when she formed thy great 
 
 And noble spirit gave — the Dream 
 
 That lived within thy soul to make 
 
 Reality for men in all 
 
 That in me lies, for thy dear sake." 
 
 " So, Ernest, shall I peaceful fall 
 
 Asleep," said Clarence, " when the night . 
 
 Around me closes ; but before 
 
 My spirit leave of Earth the shore 
 
 Familiar, of the Infinite 
 
 Within the shadowy realm to dwell, 
 
 To Margaret would I bid farewell." 
 
 Softly the door, ere Clarence ceased, 
 Was opened, and within the room 
 Stood Margaret ; slowly in the West 
 
DESTINY, 123 
 
 The light was fading, but the gloom 
 Grew, as she entered, less profound, 
 Lit by the Moon's pale beams that threw 
 A tender radiance around, 
 A deeper pallor to the hue 
 Of anguish lending in her face. 
 
 " So," Clarence softly said, " this grace 
 Has Fate accorded me — to close 
 Mine eyes 'neath tranquil skies, a dawn 
 Serene that promise ; to repose 
 Sinking, as, when the day is gone, 
 The tired child lies down to rest, 
 His latest look of consciousness 
 Resting on all his heart holds best 
 And dearest." 
 
 " We the bitterness, 
 Not thou," said Ernest, " of this hour 
 Must taste. — Behold the price that Fate 
 Asks for the life her mocking power 
 That spares, to make it desolate, 
 And tell me, Margaret, if the pain 
 That rends my soul can ever know, 
 
124 DESTINY. 
 
 While Thought her empire holds, again 
 Assuagement. Tell me for this woe 
 Is there in this wide Universe 
 A cure ?" 
 
 '' O Clarence ! if the force 
 Of anguish wring a selfish cry 
 Of suffering from the breast, forgive 
 Our weakness," Margaret said ; " too high 
 Thy spirit ever moved, to live 
 Amid our meaner cares, content ; 
 Nor soaring, seek her element, 
 There by the law immutable. 
 Called, of her Being ; but if we, 
 In fetters of the senses still 
 Who struggle, with dim vision see 
 Only the void thou leavest here — 
 That thee no more, a Presence dear 
 Shall we perceive, our steps beside ; 
 Forgetting that no walls divide 
 The world of spirit, like the sea 
 That flows around the world of Sense, 
 An ever-during Unity, 
 Descending with sweet influence 
 
DESTINY. 125 
 
 In gentle dews, our dull, cold clay 
 To soften, that the vital ray 
 Its torpid mass may penetrate — 
 If, Clarence, we resist the fate 
 Thy life that severs from our own, 
 Because our human hearts have grown 
 In living union to thy heart, 
 And so, from thine when torn apart, 
 They bleed with human anguish — thou, 
 O friend ! already on thy brow 
 Who wearest, of a Peace divine 
 The solemn splendors, canst behold 
 A sorrow that may not be thine, 
 Compassionate ; thy love can fold 
 Within its ample shelter all 
 Our weakness." 
 
 Here a shadow light 
 Over the spirit seemed to fall, 
 Of Clarence, from the Infinite, 
 Veiling her from their gaze awhile. 
 Then from his lips the pallid smile 
 Fading, her hand, as Margaret knelt 
 Beside his couch, he took and said 
 
126 DESTINY. 
 
 Softly, " My soul a space has dwelt 
 Blindfold 'midst mysteries ; but led 
 Back by thy voice to earth again, 
 Margaret, the pangs of earthly pain 
 With those she loves must she endure. 
 But Love the wounds of Love shall cure, 
 And what remains shall dearer be 
 For what is gone. My Memory — 
 Oh ! let me bear with me this hope — 
 Shall give your lives a larger scope, 
 Dear friends, that reaching forth to clasp 
 Your friend, the Infinite shall grasp ; 
 Until, than all that real seems, 
 It grow more real ; and the Dreams 
 Of Youth, by Hope inspired, pale 
 Beside the splendors of the True, 
 The soul with strength that can renew, 
 In Life or Death that shall not fail." 
 
 He ceased, and silence filled the room, 
 Unbroken, for a peace profound 
 Nature, reposing, breathed around 
 Without. Silently through the gloom 
 
DESTINY. I2y 
 
 The stars came forth ; her silver rays 
 
 Silent the tranquil Moon sent down 
 
 From Heaven's blue vault. Clarence, his gaze 
 
 Full of a peace in unison 
 
 With Nature's, fixing there, at last, — 
 
 " Ye worlds," he said, " that in the vast 
 
 And unknown realms of Space reveal 
 
 To man a grandeur that the soul 
 
 Within her depths may vaguely feel, 
 
 Though human wisdom shall unroll 
 
 Never to human ken the page 
 
 Whereon is traced the lore no sage 
 
 May read with mortal sight, for me 
 
 Within your orbits do ye move, 
 
 In all your wondrous harmony, 
 
 Henceforward meaningless ? Above 
 
 The grasp forever shall ye shine 
 
 Of our Humanity, aside 
 
 Casting the fetters that confine 
 
 Her soaring spirit, when the wide 
 
 And unexplored extent of Space 
 
 She enter, that her dwelling-place 
 
 Shall be henceforth ? This glimpse alone 
 
128 DESTINY. 
 
 Of all your wonders shall the Mind 
 
 Catch, that illumes the narrow zone 
 
 Of earthly Being ? Unconfined 
 
 By limitations that control 
 
 Her powers here, shall she not pierce 
 
 The secrets of the Universe 
 
 At last exultant ? " 
 
 Silence fell 
 As Clarence ceased, a space on those 
 Who watched beside his couch. The veil 
 Whose folds around the portals close, 
 That open to the Infinite, 
 Darkened his spirit to their sight 
 Again awhile. Then on his brow 
 A sudden glory shone of Peace 
 And Joy ineffable. 
 
 " And now. 
 Not," he resumed, "in bitterness 
 ' Of soul, nor in despair, must be 
 Our parting ; for the hour has come 
 When we must say farewell. To thee, 
 Ernest, a light that shall illume 
 The vista of the coming years, 
 
DESTINY. 129 
 
 The steadfast trust that ministers 
 Now to my peace I leave — the bond 
 That joins our lives to knit again 
 In closer union, when beyond 
 The boundaries of mortal ken 
 We meet once more. And thee my place, 
 Margaret, I leave to fill ; that here 
 Our Ernest still may know the grace 
 And power of Friendship — still the dear 
 And strong support of Friendship claim 
 In pain or weakness — sacred tie 
 Whose bond is freedom ; in whose name 
 Our lives to such sweet harmony 
 Might move, did we but own its sway. 
 As might from Chaos Order draw. 
 And, joyful, the Eternal Law 
 Herself that gives, the Soul obey." 
 
 And silence fell upon them, deep 
 And solemn ; from their view had passed 
 His Presence, in their souls to keep 
 Alive the bond that with the vast, 
 -Mysterious realm of the Unknown . 
 
130 DESTINY. 
 
 Unites the Visible — unheard 
 His voice henceforth, a deathless tone 
 Vibrating in their hearts, the Word 
 Divine that it might echo. So 
 The chasm our Being that divides 
 Here from the Infinite, where flow 
 Of Life and Death the ceaseless tides, 
 Was bridged for them ; and in some hour 
 Of ecstasy, their souls the power 
 Transcending, of our mortal state. 
 Beyond the bounds might penetrate 
 That close us in, and gleams discern 
 Of quenchless fires afar that burn, — 
 Light of an endless Day that pours 
 Her splendors on celestial shores. 
 
CYBELE. 
 
 ARTH, for the evil dreams that haunt her 
 
 sleep, 
 
 Though weary, cannot rest ; 
 But counts, through long, long nights, of those who 
 weep, 
 The tears that chill her breast. 
 
 In vain by shores remote and desolate, 
 
 She seeks her hollow caves — 
 There, too, of mortal anguish penetrate 
 
 The sounds, through storm-lashed waves, 
 
 In vain she seeks the populous city, proud 
 
 Record of deathless names 
 And high achievements ; for above the loud 
 
 Glad Psean that proclaims 
 131 
 
132 CYBELE. 
 
 Wide to the spheres the triumph of her sons, 
 
 With god-Uke step who tread, 
 .She hears the unheeded wail of little ones 
 
 Who piteous cry for bread. 
 
 She hears through festal strains of Want the cry, 
 
 Despair's expiring groan ; 
 When no fond breast save only hers is nigh, 
 
 Dying to lean upon. 
 
 In vain the silence of her valleys green 
 
 She seeks, where bland airs woo 
 To slumber ; and the skies a charm serene 
 
 Shed, soft as falling dew. 
 
 In vain ; her sons their peaceful solitude 
 
 Invade with impious rage ; 
 And sanguinary war in deadly feud. 
 
 Brothers on brothers wage. 
 
 Her breast maternal, whence their nourishment — 
 
 They drew, insane they tear 
 With sacrilegious hate, till stained and rent 
 
 Her garments, wan and bare 
 
CYBELE. 133 
 
 Beneath high Heaven, the scorn of sister spheres, 
 
 She lies, and cannot veil 
 The shame and anguish from her radiant peers, 
 
 That brand her forehead pale. 
 
 Below the cold, white Moon the lurid fires 
 
 That on her altars burn, 
 Show ghastly as each short-lived flame expires. 
 
 Or kindles in its turn. 
 
 Unholy rites that desecrate the graves 
 Where sleep her hallowed Dead — 
 
 Base worship of a Sorceress by her slaves 
 In willing bondage led. 
 
 A Sorceress vile that takes of Happiness 
 
 The semblance — Shade divine 
 That lures in vain pursuit, and vanishes 
 
 The eager grasp within. 
 
 For where can Earth in all her wide domain 
 
 The heavenly visitant 
 A fit abiding-place prepare where stain 
 
 Of Sin is not, or Want ? 
 
134 CYBELE. 
 
 A lesser goddess must the vows receive, 
 
 Unworthy of her pure, 
 Calm service, in whose worship joys shall live 
 
 The senses that allure. 
 
 A goddess in whose veins with ichor blent, 
 
 Flows warmly some red blood ; 
 Whose worshippers with no cold ravishment 
 
 In holy solitude 
 
 Approach her shrine, but press with eager foot. 
 
 The fellow-worshipper 
 That tramples in his path, in vain his suit 
 
 Who struggles to prefer. 
 
 Oh ! shall we stand on Fortune's heights, content 
 
 Beneath our feet to see 
 Brothers with hopeless toil and anguish rent,. . 
 
 Press on despairingly ? 
 
 Shall we, who breathe of her fair haunts, the air. 
 
 Stretch forth no hand to them 
 Who, reaching up from black gulfs of Despair, 
 
 Would touch her garment's hem ? 
 
CYBELE. 135 
 
 Would touch her hem in some forlorn, wild hope 
 
 That healed their misery, 
 On Life's far verge for Happiness some scope, 
 
 Or for Content might be. 
 
 Alas ! by zephyrs lulled, o'er beds that blow, 
 
 Of poppies in the sun, 
 Their crimson glories haughtily that show, 
 
 How can the feeble groan 
 
 Our senses reach, that wrung from wretchedness. 
 
 Upon the wind is borne, 
 To swell of Heaven the thunders, when through stress 
 
 Of heat her clouds are torn. 
 
 Children of one fond mother, oh ! no more 
 
 At Fortune's cruel shrine, 
 Let us with dark, unnatural rites adore. 
 
 Ready to pour the wine 
 
 With reckless hand, of crimson life-blood pressed 
 
 Beneath the iron heel 
 Of Selfishness in silken raiment dressed, 
 
 P'rom hearts like ours that feel ; 
 
136 CYBELE. 
 
 From hearts of our Humanity that share 
 
 The common heritage ; 
 That thrill with hope, that sicken with despair, 
 
 That burn with love or rage. 
 
 Oh ! shall we barter for a gilded toy- 
 That custom tarnishes, 
 
 Of all Life's fleeting bliss the pures't joy 
 Our feeble grasp can seize — 
 
 To wipe away their tears from eyes that weep ; 
 
 The bleeding wounds to bind 
 Of hearts with anguish torn ; the weak to keep 
 
 From utter loss ; the blind 
 
 Of spiritual sight their vision to restore ; 
 
 The joy and harmony 
 Divine of Nature in the ear to pour, 
 
 That cold and deaf would be ? 
 
 N"o longer like a plague-struck ship, let Earth 
 Through Space pursue her way ; 
 
 Where wild Delirium, or reckless Mirth, 
 Or Fear holds ghastly sway ; 
 
CYBELE. 137 
 
 That rudder broken, chart and compass lost, 
 
 Shrouds and look-out unmanned, 
 Drifts aimlessly, unheeding, billow-tossed, 
 
 Where looms the distant Land. 
 
 Oh ! for a swift-winged current of cle^r air 
 
 To sweep away the clouds. 
 Whose gloom the Universe divinely fair 
 
 From our dim vision shrouds ; 
 
 That looking forth beyond the bounds of Time 
 
 And Space our souls descry 
 Some reflex of the radiance sublime 
 
 That lights Eternity. 
 
 Whose rays the summits striking, of the heights 
 
 Her eagle-flight where Thought 
 Exulting takes, with such supreme delights 
 
 May stir the soul, as fraught 
 
 With vital power, her sleeping forces wake 
 
 To Action, heralding 
 The Dawn, while yet afar it lingers when it break, 
 
 That endless Day shall bring. 
 
AUTUMN DAYS. 
 Projitons de nos dernier s beaux jours. 
 
 IN Nature's breast life's languid tide 
 I No more by hopes or fears 
 
 Is stirred ; no power can turn aside 
 The end her bloom that nears. " 
 
 Yet in her face her coming doom 
 
 No sign of death betrays ; 
 More brightly glows her dying bloom 
 
 The swifter it decays. 
 
 So we, of Life the Summer done, 
 
 With calmer pulse await 
 Whate'er may come with each new sun 
 
 Of good or evil fate. 
 138 
 
A UTUMN DA YS. 1 39 
 
 And in decay, as Nature wears, 
 
 While skies are soft, a smile, 
 So too, while linger balmy airs, 
 
 Let us be glad awhile. 
 
 What though each breeze but lull to rest 
 
 The consciousness of pain. 
 Its life-blood from the torpid breast 
 
 With surer power to drain. 
 
 Better forget than wake to all 
 
 The bitterness of Fate — 
 Hopes cherished in the bud to fall 
 
 Or, mocking, bloom too late. 
 
 Better Oblivion than the sense 
 
 Of hopeless, helpless 111 — 
 Of life's best gift the incompeter 
 
 Our longing hearts to fill. 
 
 Better forever sleep than wake 
 
 To see the Goblin Fear 
 Each ghastly shape beside us take 
 
 In turn. Grief's harbinger. 
 
I40 AUTUMN DAYS. 
 
 Better forever sleep than know- 
 In vain our waking toil, 
 
 Our strength, our skill, of Good the foe 
 To conquer or to foil. 
 
 Better forever sleep than feel, 
 
 As one who in his tomb 
 Waking, to Heaven makes vain appeal, 
 
 The horror of our doom. 
 
 To know that from our living death 
 
 But Death can set us free ; 
 That seeming to breathe vital breath 
 
 All is but mockery ! 
 
 For what avail the dreams, while yet 
 
 Life holds her empire vain 
 Within us, that the forces set 
 
 In motion, of the brain ? 
 
 Our struggles, that exhaust the life 
 That they would fain preserve ; 
 
 Our fears, that in the deadly strife 
 Reason and strength unnerve ; 
 
AUTUMN DAYS. H^ 
 
 Can they less certain make the end ? 
 
 Less terrible our doom ? 
 Or to the ghastly horrors lend 
 
 Abatement, of the tomb ? 
 
 No ! better death than fear of death 
 
 Within the soul to bear — 
 Corruption's seed, with charnel breath 
 
 Poisoning the ambient air. 
 
 Then let us seek the only good 
 
 Life still has power to give — 
 A balm to soothe the restless blood, 
 
 Till we forget we live. 
 
 Why ask, in these calm Autumn days 
 
 The tranquil depths that lie 
 Around us veiled in golden haze 
 
 To pierce with curious eye ? 
 
 Unquestioning rather let us drink 
 
 Content, the cup of Peace, 
 That robs the brain of power to think, 
 
 And gives to pain surcease. 
 
142 AUTUMN DAYS. 
 
 Let us, for that our days are few 
 And short, crown every hour 
 
 With flowers, whose cups of glowing hue 
 Hold drops of Lethean power. 
 
 What though no more the perfumed rose 
 
 Of June the senses thrill 
 With rapture from the balm that flows 
 
 Its petals that distil ; 
 
 Within its heart the poppy holds, 
 
 Though odorless, a boon 
 As dear as in its breast enfolds 
 
 The fragrant rose of June. 
 
 With poppies, then, among the com 
 
 While still they redly glow, 
 Life's autumn days let us adorn, 
 
 Oblivion that bestow. 
 
DESPONDENCY. 
 
 NOTHER morning dawns with baleful light 
 Slow on my sight ; 
 And my sad heart that found from gnawing grief 
 
 A respite brief, 
 Must wake once more, and its dull weight of pain 
 Take up again. 
 
 The golden Morning that to others brings 
 
 Hope on her wings, 
 Brings none to me ; the tranquil Evening's close 
 
 No sweet repose. 
 From all her countless orbs, no ray of light, 
 
 The starry Night. 
 
 In vain for me with myriad-sounding voice 
 
 Does Earth rejoice ; 
 
 143 
 
1 44 DE SP ONDENC V. 
 
 And with her thousand tints of land and sky- 
 Entrance the eye ; 
 
 The Psean seems a dirge, the beauty all 
 A funeral pall. 
 
 And Earth herself one vast and lonely tomb ; 
 
 All that her womb 
 Yields, she devours, as did the god of old 
 
 His offspring. Gold 
 Gleams the abundant corn that smiling waves 
 
 O'er silent graves. 
 
 O fatal thought ! Endeavor that unnerves, 
 
 What purpose serves 
 At last life's best result ? Fame, Glory, seem 
 
 An idle dream 
 In Truth's cold dawn, whose greenest garlands bloom 
 
 To grace a tomb. 
 
 How swells the soul to-day with conquering Pride ! 
 
 Fate seems defied ; 
 How works intent on each new scheme of gain, 
 
 The busy brain ! 
 
DESPONDENCY. 145 
 
 What fond illusions thrill the lover's breast, 
 His hopes contest ! 
 
 To-morrow comes ; what honors now avail 
 
 When knocks the pale 
 Stern Messenger of Fate ? How dull and cold 
 
 The all-potent gold ! 
 No more the breast can Love's divinest thrill 
 
 With rapture fill. 
 
 So in his turn hath each the bitter draught 
 
 Of Sorrow quaffed ; 
 And each in turn, that cometh after me 
 
 So too shall see, 
 Of Earth's best gifts — Fame, Power, Happiness, 
 
 The nothingness ! 
 
i 
 
 INVOCATION TO DEATH. 
 
 NGEL that at the gate 
 Of Life dost wait, 
 
 And in thy chill embraces dost receive 
 
 All souls that leave 
 This shadow-peopled fever-dream, to rest 
 
 At last on thy cold breast — 
 
 Come, friendly Death, and kind, 
 
 And round me wind 
 Thy cool, soft arms, that gently lulled to sleep, 
 
 No more I weep 
 Salt tears that well from my dull, heavy brain, 
 
 Yet lighten not its pain. 
 
 For Hope my breast has fled ; 
 
 Life's tangled thread 
 Its silken smoothness, and its soft, bright dye 
 
 Has lost for aye. 
 Then sever thou the bonds of Destiny, 
 
 Last of the Fatal Three ! 
 146 
 
INVOCATION TO DEATH. 1 47 
 
 Forlorn and tempest-tost, 
 
 I wander, lost 
 In the dark mazes of a pathless wood, 
 
 Whose solitude 
 No cheerful sound of bird or running stream 
 
 Makes glad ; nor gleam 
 Of pleasant sunlight falling through the leaves, 
 
 Its baleful gloom relieves. 
 
 But spectres pale and gaunt 
 
 My pathway haunt ; 
 From out whose eyeless sockets grim Despair 
 
 His stony stare 
 Fixes upon me, while like icy bands. 
 
 Their fleshless hands 
 Close round my shuddering heart, till horror- 
 chilled. 
 
 All sense save one is stilled — 
 
 A longing wild for peace; 
 
 That so may cease 
 At last the booming of the hungry waves 
 
 From soundless caves 
 Of Darkness flowing, that relentless roll 
 
 Around my unresting soul. 
 
148 INVOCATION TO DEATH. 
 
 Herald of Peace ! then come, 
 
 And bear me home, 
 Safe 'neath the shelter of thy dusky wing. 
 
 True Friend ! no King 
 Of Terrors thou, whose touch all ills can cure. 
 
 Steadfast and sure, 
 Amidst the broken idols of my Youth, 
 
 Lives this atoning Truth. 
 
FREEDOM AND LOVE. 
 
 H ! that my lips with sacred fire 
 Were touched, that I might speak the word 
 That, leaping from the impassioned lyre, 
 Should flash electric through love's chord ; 
 
 That this responsive to the voice 
 
 That greeting man proclaimed him free, 
 
 Thrilling through earth should bid rejoice 
 The great heart of Humanity ! 
 
 Freedom and Love ! divinest gifts 
 
 By gracious Heaven on Man bestowed ; 
 
 To Heaven itself Love's magic lifts 
 
 The soul where Freedom's light hath glowed. 
 
 For he whose breast hath never felt 
 
 The rapture Liberty inspires — 
 Love's fire his soul shall never melt, 
 
 Its spirit in his grasp expires. 
 149 
 
150 FREEDOM AND LOVE. 
 
 A nobler destiny is ours 
 
 Than despots of our slaves to make ; 
 And scorning Heaven's life-giving showers, 
 
 Our thirst at turbid waves to slake. 
 
 O brothers ! cast the bonds aside 
 That in a slavery blind and base 
 
 Have held our souls ; and deified, 
 No more let Self usurp Love's place. 
 
 From every clime, in every tongue 
 
 The greeting shout from man to man : 
 
 Freedom, full-armed, from Light hath sprung, 
 To end the strife that greed began. 
 
 And Love, divinely fair and bright, 
 
 Shall crown with Peace the new-born reign ; 
 
 Justice return to earth ; and Right, 
 Not Might, o'er men hold sway again. 
 
ODE TO VALOR. 
 
 VALOR ! of the ancient world 
 Chief glory, to thy native skies 
 Returning, hopeless hast thou furled 
 
 Thy banner with averted eyes ; 
 Unwilling, scenes where Liberty 
 Once dwelt the abode of slaves to see. 
 
 Hast thou our race degenerate left 
 Forever to the pangs that tear 
 
 The coward soul of strength bereft 
 The evils of her state to bear ; 
 
 Besieging with vain clamor God 
 
 And man to ease her of her load ? 
 
 In affluence must our treasures lose 
 The power to move our hearts to joy ; 
 
 And in Life's cup shall Love diffuse 
 The poison Peace that shall destroy ? 
 151 
 
152 ODE TO VALOR. 
 
 More fatal to our happiness 
 
 Than what we lack, what we possess. 
 
 Shall Fear with iron sceptre rule 
 
 The shadowy realm of the Unknown ; 
 
 And all the ambient air be full 
 
 Of spectral shapes between the Sun 
 
 And our fair world, like clouds that come 
 
 To darken Day with baleful gloom ? 
 
 Unlike the martyrs, who, of old. 
 Bore joyful witness to the Truth 
 
 With life, to all but Pleasure cold, 
 
 Its golden hours shall generous Youth, 
 
 Gay butterflies with feverish haste 
 
 Chasing, in turn to crush them, waste. 
 
 And Age in narrow creeds confine 
 
 The life that pushing toward the light, 
 
 In darkness feels the heat divine 
 That draws it toward the Infinite ; 
 
 Nor dare to speak the living word 
 
 The soul in solitude has heard. 
 
ODE TO VALOR. 1 53 
 
 O Valor ! to our Earth return ; 
 
 Some drop from out thy chalice give 
 To men, that in our veins shall burn, 
 
 And living, we may truly live ; 
 Lord of himself and Destiny, • 
 Who nothing fears, alone is free. 
 
LINES. 
 
 (Suggested by Mrs. Browning's " De Profundis.") 
 
 HE dusky shades of gathering Night 
 Have drowned in darkness Day's warm 
 light ; 
 Her golden tresses' last faint gleam 
 Has sunk beneath the circling stream, 
 Investing Nature, like a pall, 
 And silence reigns o'er all. 
 
 O silent stream ! whose waters roll 
 Between my vexed and weary soul, 
 And those far regions of content, 
 Where ruleth Love omnipotent ; 
 And Hope, with folded wings, at last 
 Doth rest, her exile past. 
 
 Across thy waves that bring more near, 
 Whilst they divide, are wafted clear 
 154 
 
LINES. 155 
 
 The echoes of a Voice more deep 
 Than thimder-tones, that deafening leap 
 From cloud to cloud ; yet underlies, 
 So sweet, all harmonies. 
 
 Eternal Wisdom, like a dove, 
 Broods over all things, moved by Love ; 
 And mindful of our human pain. 
 The devious pathway making plain, 
 Amidst the gloom of Sorrow's night 
 Proclaims " Let there be light." 
 
 Methinks the very Dead rejoice. 
 Hearing within their graves that Voice ; 
 Some touch of human sympathy 
 Stirs in their hearts, that, cold and dry, 
 Forgotten in their shrouds, respond 
 To Nature's deathless bond. 
 
 And angel-anthems, to the Throne 
 Like incense rising, catch a tone 
 
156 LINES. 
 
 More sweet and solemn as they fade 
 Into the awful silence made 
 By those dread accents, clear and still, 
 That Earth and Heaven fill. 
 
 And o'er my soul a Morning breaks, 
 Whose sudden splendor swift awakes 
 Each cheerful Thought and Purpose strong 
 Within my breast that slumbered long, 
 Waiting the voice that thus should say, 
 "Arise ! for it is day." 
 
 Arise ! the night is past. Behold, 
 My soul, those beams of living gold 
 That chase the shadows of the night, 
 Thy way to earnest action light ; 
 So thou at eve, thy labor done, 
 Mayest rest, the guerdon won. 
 
SERENADE. 
 
 FROM THE SPANISH. 
 
 JLEEP, sleep, Beloved ; let thy dreams 
 To murmurs glide of silver streams, 
 
 Blent with soft strains of woodland bird, 
 
 And fairy music, faintly heard, 
 While in the silent night I keep 
 Lone vigil. Sleep, Beloved, sleep. 
 
 Sleep, sleep, Beloved ; let the light 
 From southern skies illume the night 
 For thee, and Fairy-land transfuse 
 To thy bright dreams her magic hues ; 
 In gloom and darkness while I keep 
 Lone vigil. Sleep, Beloved, sleep. 
 
 Sleep, sleep. Beloved ; round thee bland 
 And tepid airs from Fairy-land 
 
 157 
 
158 SERENADE. 
 
 Breathe softly, bringing sweets from flowers 
 That deathless bloom in fairy bowers ; 
 Forlorn and joyless, while I keep 
 Lone vigil. Sleep, Beloved sleep 
 
 Sleep, sleep. Beloved ; angels take 
 The charge of friends, and happy make 
 Thy dreams, that they a foretaste be 
 Of day's most dear reality ; 
 
 Friendless, forsaken, while I keep 
 Lone vigil. Sleep, Beloved, sleep. 
 
 Sleep, sleep, Beloved ; let no sound 
 Disturb the peace that wraps thee round, 
 Of my sad heart's complaint ; but still 
 Let tranquil joys thy bosom fill ; 
 Helpless and hopeless, while I keep 
 Lone vigil. Sleep, Beloved, sleep. 
 
TO A MOTHER, ON THE DEATH OF A 
 YOUNG MARRIED DAUGHTER. 
 
 "^HY dost thou weep ? Because the lot 
 That all must share, is shared by thee, 
 
 And Grief, her face awhile forgot, 
 Returns to bear thee company ? 
 
 So does the child, his task who learns 
 With tears, before the powers that dwell 
 
 In it for good his soul discerns, 
 Against the discipline rebel. 
 
 Yet from the cold dark clay of Earth 
 Nature ordains alone shall spring • 
 
 Her flowers, and in the soul, its birth 
 Her bloom shall take from suffering. 
 159 
 
l6o TO A MOTHER, ON THE DEATH OF 
 
 Then shall we waste in anguish vain 
 
 The hours, for Nature's changeless law ? 
 
 Or plant some seed while sun and rain 
 
 Its bloom and fragrance thence may draw ? 
 
 Bloom, like the plant o'er Alpine snows 
 A rosy splendor soft that spreads, 
 
 That on bleak heights of Sorrow grows, 
 And o'er their bleakness beauty sheds. 
 
 Bloom, that, when fading fast away 
 The light of Earth, in darkness lie 
 
 Her valleys, brightening in the day 
 
 Beyond those heights, shall cheer the eye. 
 
 Is there no heart more bruised than thine 
 Into whose wounds thy hand may pour 
 
 A little balm ; and with the wine 
 
 Of Wisdom strengthen from thy store ? 
 
 No 111 whose shadow heavy lies 
 
 On some poor soul, thou mayest avert, 
 
 If thou canst turn away thine eyes 
 From gazing on a cureless hurt ? 
 
A YOUNG MARRIED DAUGHTER. l6l 
 
 Oh ! think not that with its own joy 
 
 The heart rejoices only. No ; 
 To taste of bliss without alloy 
 
 Is to assuage another's woe. 
 
 Why dost thou weep ? So high a price 
 On what she loses dost thou set ; 
 
 Or that from her this sacrifice 
 
 Fate too might ask, dost thou forget ? 
 
 More bitter are the pangs that rend 
 Thy soul, that thou the pain dost bear 
 
 Alone of parting ; and the end 
 Has easier made to her thy care ? 
 
 Not so was it with those, her reign 
 When Terror held, who saw nor wept, 
 
 Their loved die first, her, sharpest pain 
 Content that Fate for them had kept. 
 
 Heroic souls, who could resign 
 
 Existence, holding it well-spent. 
 Of Truth that to the worth divine 
 
 Their blood its testimony lent. 
 
l62 TO A MOTHER, ON THE DEA TH OF 
 
 Counting it as of lesser weight 
 
 That storms or sunshine rule the skies, 
 
 Than guided by Truth's needle, straight 
 That they might steer should storms arise. 
 
 And why should'st thou of meaner mold 
 Or lesser stature count thy soul, 
 
 That Happiness content she hold 
 
 The highest Good that crowns Life's goal ? 
 
 Is there no voice her depths within, 
 
 That tells her not in Sorrow lie 
 The seeds of Death ; but that through Sin 
 
 Alone shall Loss eternal be ? 
 
 That all the circle can embrace, 
 Narrow and dim, of mortal sight, 
 
 Is but a point in star-sown space 
 That reaches to the Infinite. 
 
 And, therefore, to thy mortal ken 
 
 A Presence though invisible. 
 Not less is she a denizen 
 
 With thee, of realms of Being still ; 
 
A YO UNG MA RRIED DA UGHTER. 1 63 
 
 Not less the Sun, in ways apart, 
 That lights to its remote confines 
 
 Of Space each habitant, athwart 
 
 The Orb eclipsed for thee, now shines. 
 
 And whatsoever be the fate 
 
 That waits on her in the Unknown, 
 
 With interests of eternal weight 
 That it must be in unison. 
 
DIRGE. 
 
 TREW flowers on her bier ; 
 The fairest flower here 
 Lies withered, of them all ; 
 Ere opening, it could yield 
 The sweets that lay concealed 
 
 Within its calyx held in patient thrall. 
 
 A bud by rude winds broke — 
 At Fortune's cruel stroke 
 
 She shivered first, then sighed 
 At the unkind assault ; 
 Then pitying the fault, 
 
 She closed her eyes, and cast her pain aside. 
 
 So bring, though all their bloom 
 And delicate perfume 
 Unheeded by her be, 
 164 
 
DIRGE, l6$ 
 
 The flowers she loved so well, 
 And let them, silent, tell 
 
 In Death 's cold shade, of Immortality. 
 
 The fragrant mignonette, 
 The blue-eyed violet, 
 
 White roses, heliotrope 
 The lily of the vale. 
 The snow-drop, pure and pale. 
 
 Tuberoses, and the Flower that speaks of Hope. 
 
 And humblest of them all, 
 With blood-tipped coronal. 
 
 The gold-eyed daisy bring ; 
 To every flower that grew, 
 Her heart's fond faith was true. 
 
 Then meet it is that round her now they cling. 
 
 Here where upon her breast 
 Folded, her pale hands rest, 
 
 Place lilies, white and pure ; 
 The thoughts were pure as they, 
 Dove-like, that brooding lay 
 
 Above the hopes that nestled there secure. 
 
1 66 DIRGE, 
 
 And on that placid brow 
 Whose light is veiled now, 
 
 Shall rest the immortelle ; 
 Wreathed with the Fower of Thought, 
 And pale moss-rose buds fraught 
 
 With sweetness ; with such friends she shall 
 sleep well. 
 
 So ; all is done. Compose 
 Her limbs in still repose, 
 
 Nor toil that breaks, nor strife ; 
 Then yield her to the clay, 
 And in her coffin lay 
 
 The hopes, frail flowers, that clustered round 
 her life. 
 
CAPTIVITY. 
 
 ITHIN a lofty palace-tower, 
 Embosomed in a fragrant bower 
 Of roses, bright with morning dew, 
 Softening the sunlight, passing through, 
 A captive wildwood songster poured 
 A lay of such divine accord, 
 So dulcet soft and silver clear. 
 Unconsciously I paused to hear ; 
 And lingering in dreamy mood, 
 In that enchanted neighborhood, 
 Sweet on my soul the melody 
 Stole, a remembered pain to be — 
 A song from bitter sources fed. 
 That thus my heart interpreted : 
 
 " Oh ! for the forest's cool, green shade ; 
 The freedom of the forest glade ; 
 167 
 
1 68 CAPTIVITY. 
 
 The old, familiar, forest trees, 
 All glad with sylvan melodies ; 
 Their mossy roots with wild flowers gay. 
 And many-tinted in the ray 
 That struggling through the leaves lit up 
 With splendor many a flower-cup ; 
 The rivulet, that, clear and bright, 
 Imprisoried held the noonday light 
 Or to the tranquil Summer Moon 
 Still carolling its cheerful tune, 
 Lulled in their safe and downy nest 
 Our young ones' calm, untroubled rest. 
 
 " Oh ! for the broad and bright expanse 
 
 Of Nature's genial countenance; 
 
 The fresh and fragrant forest air, 
 
 Of Life the spirit everywhere 
 
 That breathed, like all-pervading Love, 
 
 Diffusing joy around, above. 
 
 "Oh ! for the sylvan Summer Dawn, 
 When friendly stars, that, one by one, 
 
CAPTIVITY. 169 
 
 Weary with watching, closed their eyes, 
 Withdrew from the awakening skies. 
 In every grove while joyous song 
 To song responded, loud and long — 
 Each wild-wood songster's matin lay 
 To greet the coming of the Day. 
 Oh ! for the pleasant Summer rain 
 Gladdening the sultry woods again ! 
 The ripe fruit hanging from the tree, 
 And berries wild, a banquet free 
 For Nature's careless children spread 
 From Nature's stores unlimited ; 
 Oh ! for the birds, the bees, the flowers, 
 The sharers of those happy hours." 
 
 He ceased, yet still the plaintive sound 
 Seemed lingering in the air around, 
 Diffusing through it a vague sense 
 Of Doubt, with saddening influence, 
 That dimmed, like clouds, the radiant day — 
 Clouds the sun could not drive away. 
 Poor captive ! Nature made in vain 
 His heritage, her wide domain ; 
 
lyo CAPTIVITY. 
 
 In vain his wings with power endowed 
 To pierce the heaven-ascending cloud ; 
 One grain of wheat from out the sheaf, 
 From boundless forests one poor leaf 
 Was counted bounty liberal 
 From him to whom he gave his all ; 
 His flight that might have sought the stars, 
 Curbed by his prison's gilded bars. 
 
 And yet his master held him dear, 
 
 Well pleased his sweet wild songs to hear ; 
 
 And often, doubtless, would requite 
 
 The efforts of his favorite 
 
 With fond caresses ; and should death 
 
 Untimely still his slender breath. 
 
 Perchance a silent tear would shed 
 
 On his lost songster's lowly bed — 
 
 The meed of freedom sacrificed 
 
 To please a thoughtless egoist. 
 
 Child of the woods ! the splendor rare 
 
 His eye that greeted everywhere. 
 
 To him seemed dull and faded, when 
 
 He thought of his own native glen. 
 
CAPTIVITY. 171 
 
 For his own native haunts he pined, 
 And fellowship with his own kind ; 
 For Freedom, heritage of all 
 Who breathe the vital air, and call 
 Their common Father, Him who gave 
 Life both to tyrant and to slave. 
 Lacking this wealth he still was poor, 
 Rich in all else that could allure — 
 Alas ! no splendor can illume 
 The darkness of the captive's doom. 
 
LINES TO AN EXO'LTC PLANT 
 
 OOR exile from the sunny land 
 
 Where Nature's wise and friendly care 
 
 First made thy fragile leaves expand 
 Beneath the warm and vital air — 
 
 What adverse Fate thy tender bloom 
 Transferred to an ungenial soil, 
 
 Where paler suns thy days illume, 
 And ruder airs thy sweets despoil ? 
 
 Of all thy kindred thou most fair ! 
 
 Recipient of a fatal grace — 
 In solitary pride to wear 
 
 The fleeting glories of thy race. 
 
 The parent flower whose life with thine 
 In sweet mysterious union blent, 
 
 That drew to feed thy bloom divine, 
 Its virtue from each element — 
 
 172 
 
LINES TO AN EXOTIC PLANT. 1^3 
 
 When southern airs with fragrance fraught, 
 
 Thy petals stir, do they respond 
 To tidings from far regions brought, 
 
 That wake the memory of that bond ? 
 
 Do dreams of that evanished time 
 
 Within thy calyx hover now, 
 And memories of thy natal clime 
 
 Thy cold existence still endow ? 
 
 Do memories alone remain, 
 
 Or in thy cup some atom lies, 
 Left by warm drops of tropic rain 
 
 That sprang to kiss thee from the skies ? 
 
 Inwoven with thy Being glows 
 The genial sunshine still that first 
 
 Thy folded petals bade unclose, 
 And into perfect beauty burst'? 
 
 And when the pallid day is past 
 Of this cold hemisphere, do gleams 
 
 From southern constellations cast,- 
 Revisit thee again in dreams ? 
 
174 LINES TO AN EXOTIC PLANT. 
 
 Do glowing noons and purple eves 
 In soft reflected splendors shine, 
 
 With shadows of broad tropic leaves, 
 Of palm and interlacing vine ? 
 
 Alas ! for thee the vine and palm 
 
 Shall bud no more ; no more be heard 
 
 By thee amid the airless calm 
 
 Of golden noons the humming-bird. 
 
 The glancing wings of butterflies, 
 
 With southern splendors lit, shall gleam 
 
 For thee no more ; thy native skies 
 
 With light eclipsed for thee, shall beam. 
 
 And thou a little while shalt bloom. 
 
 The glory of a hostile soil ; 
 Awhile shalt waste thy rich perfume 
 
 On winds that woo thee to despoil. 
 
 Then, chilled by Death's untimely frost. 
 For tropic skies no more shalt pine ; 
 
 But odor, grace, and beauty lost, 
 Content, thy barren state resign. 
 
TO A HUSBAND. 
 
 O, sordid soul ! the depths regain, 
 From whence an angel drew 
 
 With pitying hand thy steps in vain, 
 To thy base nature true. 
 
 Too long the whiteness of her robe 
 Thy touch impure has soiled ; 
 
 And sufferings, Life's rose that rob 
 Of bloom, its sweets despoiled. 
 
 A flower crushed beneath thy heel, 
 
 Fast withering she lies ; 
 Yet Death's pale hues alone reveal 
 
 Grief's sacred mysteries. 
 
 Leave her a little space to breathe 
 Earth's genial atmosphere ; 
 
 And round her pallid life to wreathe 
 Late blossoms of the year ; 
 
 175 
 
I7<3 TO A HUSBAND. 
 
 Her eyes, undimmed by tears, to raise 
 Awhile to God's blue sky ; 
 
 And on His Universe to gaze^ 
 Moved by its harmony. 
 
 Have God and Nature given to thee 
 
 Indeed the fatal right 
 A soul to rob of liberty, 
 
 Whose being is infinite ? 
 
 To make of her instincts divine 
 
 A mockery and a jest ; 
 And bid her pour her soul's rich wine 
 
 To idols, at thy hest — 
 
 Her heart to make an instrument 
 Whose living chords vibrate. 
 
 The echo of thy moods, content 
 Passive thy touch to wait ? 
 
 Why have they given, if this be so. 
 
 Her mind its vision sure ; 
 And kindled in her soul the glow 
 
 Of aspirations pure ? 
 
TO A HUSBAND. I// 
 
 Why have they crowned her Hfe with all 
 
 Its wealth of hidden bloom, 
 If, in an atmosphere must fall 
 
 Each bud, of barren gloom ? 
 
 Must she not meet her God alone, 
 
 And can she justify 
 By bondage, life's true work undone 
 
 Enough that she served thee ? 
 
 Take thou upon thy soul the debt 
 
 Of her eternal lot ; 
 Or loose her galling chains, while yet 
 
 Time's hand their stain may blot. 
 
 Go ! slave to thy base nature ; cast 
 
 Aside the flower whose bloom 
 And spring-time sweetness now are past. 
 
 Nor desecrate the tomb. 
 
ASPIRATIONS. 
 
 ENTLE sprites who guard the race 
 Of Flowers, where Fancy loves to trace 
 
 In characters serenely bright, 
 Shadows of celestial light 
 Cast from Beauty infinite — 
 Ye who watch, where grasses wave, 
 In its temporary grave, 
 The little seed, that tooth of mouse 
 Attack it not in its dark house. 
 Till the hour predestined come. 
 To call it living from its tomb — 
 Ye who bear the tender plant 
 In meet proportion to each want, 
 Dew and sunshine, rain and shade, 
 And keep in tempests undismayed 
 Its heart, lest there the vital sap 
 Retreating, from the folds that wrap, 
 Force should fail it to expand, 
 178 
 
A SPIRA TIONS. 1 7 9 
 
 And Being's end be unattained — 
 
 Ye who fan with drowsy wings 
 
 And dream-inviting murmurings, 
 
 At sultry noon the languid flower, 
 
 And turn aside with cunning power 
 
 The canker- worm that would invade 
 
 Its perfumed calyx, lest it fade 
 
 Untimely, ere the honey-bee 
 
 Have drunk the sweets that in it lie — 
 
 Ye who watch the rose turn pale 
 
 A¥ith ecstasy, the nightingale 
 
 To hear, his song of love that pours, 
 
 Divine, in Night's enchanted bowers — 
 
 Who from beneath sustain the fair, 
 
 Pure lily lest the damps impair 
 
 Its brightness, safe that it may float 
 
 On crystal streams, a fairy boat — 
 
 Oh ! tell me, sprites, (if aught you feel 
 
 For mortal woe or mortal weal,) 
 
 If within the honey-cells 
 
 Where the soul of sweetness dwells, 
 
 Of Life the wondrous secret lies, ■ 
 
 And its un guessed mysteries. 
 
1 8 O A SPIRA TIONS. 
 
 Bring in dreams some shadow caught 
 From the bright enchantments wrought 
 Where the elements combine 
 To frame a shape of Joy divine. 
 Let it mingle with the forms 
 Whose grace Youth's fading glow yet warms- 
 Creatures of celestial mold, 
 Chilled by contact with the cold, 
 Gray atmosphere of life at last, 
 That Uve in dreanis when Youth is past. 
 Let the echo of the spells 
 That from out the crystal wells 
 Of Being draw the charm that brings 
 Soul and form to senseless things 
 Float in dreams, a magic sound, 
 Blent with strains of flower-crowned 
 Eolian harps that softly stir 
 The ravished spirit, harbinger 
 Of the raptures that await 
 Her entrance through the Jasper Gate, 
 
 Oh ! tell me, spirits, if ye know. 
 When Life's flame has ceased to glow, 
 
ASPIRATIONS. l8: 
 
 In what region, cold and dark, 
 
 Lingers still the vital spark, 
 
 Till it re-assume the state 
 
 Of existence animate 
 
 In corporeal vesture clad, 
 
 Breathing once again the glad 
 
 And fragrant airs of upper day, 
 
 Again in death to fade away ; 
 
 Of Being still the endless chain 
 
 Pursuing — tell me if in vain. 
 
 Bring, oh ! bring some healing balm 
 
 That may give my spirit calm ; 
 
 Some drop from Wisdom's sacred urns 
 
 To assuage the thirst that burns 
 
 Within my soul, consuming there 
 
 Tranquillity and Pleasure fair. 
 
CONTENTMENT. 
 
 A RIDDLE. 
 
 NE little gem for all my wealth I hold, 
 Encircled by no cunningly-wrought gold ; 
 As Nature had it so she gave it me ; 
 Yet eyes accustomed, since they saw the light, 
 On jewels rare to gaze with careless sight, 
 Oft pale with envy when my gem they see. 
 
 One Summer night serene, in primal years. 
 Ere Earth was furrowed by her children's tears, 
 
 It fell from Heaven, with a falling star ; 
 But long unnoticed lay, for in the blaze 
 Of Happiness, earth's brightest gem, its rays 
 
 Less brightly shone, than they had shone afar. 
 
 In later days, while mortals sought repose 
 In brief oblivion from thick-coming woes. 
 
 And caught some glimmer of its light in dreams, 
 
 182 
 
CONTENTMENT. I03 
 
 The fairies holding, nightly revel, found, 
 Half-hidden in the dewy, grassy ground, 
 
 The Jewel, gleaming in the Moon's pale beams. 
 
 Thenceforth it glittered in their fairy wand, 
 And when some mortal maiden would despond, 
 
 Neglected sitting in her father's hall, 
 Some friendly fairy haply she beholds, 
 Her rags around her fall in silken folds. 
 
 And with her lover-Prince she leads the ball. 
 
 But long ago, neglected by our race. 
 The little people vanished into space ; 
 
 And where they went no mortal man may know ; 
 But first they sought the spot where they had found 
 This precious stone, and deep within the ground 
 
 They hid from mortal sight its magic glow. 
 
 A precious stone — it may have been the stone 
 Philosophers have sought for, but as none 
 
 Grew intimate with Nature, so she hid 
 Her treasure safely from them till beguiled 
 By flattering praises, one Spring morn she smiled, 
 
 And showed to me its hiding-place, unbid. 
 
1 84 CON 7 'EN T MEN T. 
 
 Since then I wear the jewel on my breast — 
 An amulet that ever brings me rest 
 
 From soul-corroding cares and vain desires ; 
 As if, in its clear depths some hidden spell — 
 Some memory of its first home might dwell, 
 
 And gazing there, to Heaven the soul aspires. 
 
 A jewel rare it is, yet not too rare 
 For daily use, and common daily wear, 
 
 Since humblest things it never puts to shame ; 
 For straight a gold and purple splendor falls 
 Alike on palace-courts and cottage-walls. 
 
 Beneath the roof where glows its living flame. 
 
 Now, whoso skilled in science or in art, 
 Can name my gem, and to the world impart 
 
 The secret of the charms that in it lie, 
 Him shall I call the wisest among men 
 And richest, for he ne'er shall want again ; 
 
 And to him I leave my jewel when I die. 
 
NATURE'S SECRET. 
 
 Y soul is filled with longing 
 And with a vague unrest ; 
 It strives to grasp a shadow 
 That still eludes its quest. 
 
 Yet well I know to mortal 
 
 It is not given to taste 
 The nectar of the gods ; nor read 
 
 The mystic meaning traced 
 
 In characters forever 
 
 The same, though changing still, 
 On every leaf and blossom 
 
 Where Life's glad pulses thrill. 
 
 Ah ! could I but this Proteus 
 In slumber deep surprise, 
 
 And wile from him his secret, 
 Or read it in his eyes ! 
 
 185 
 
r86 NATURE'S SECRET. 
 
 At times it seems to hover 
 In heaven's cloudless blue ; 
 
 Then nestles in a flower-cup, 
 Or in a drop oi» dew. 
 
 Oft in a strain of music 
 
 My soul hath caught a tone, 
 
 That could I but interpret, 
 Would make it all my own. 
 
 It flashes through the heavens 
 
 In characters of light ; 
 And peals in thunder from the clouds. 
 
 When the Tempest walks in might. 
 
 The south wind, that comes laden 
 With fragrance o'er the sea, 
 
 Whispers it to the flowers ; 
 They to the honey-bee. 
 
 The birds in dreams have caught it 
 From Dawn's mysterious light. 
 
 And with exultant carols 
 Ravish the ear of Night. 
 
NATURE'S SECRET. 18/ 
 
 The Moon shall by its magic 
 
 Old Ocean ever lure, 
 And hold in bonds invisible 
 
 The giant still secure ; 
 
 While fain in low-voiced murmurs, 
 
 Or thunders loud and deep, 
 The secret he would utter 
 
 In dreams that haunts his sleep. 
 
 In Summer days the sunshine 
 
 Fills with it the calm air ; 
 And in the Summer sunset — 
 
 Ah ! then ' tis everywhere ! 
 
 It rustles in the dry leaves 
 
 That shroud dead Summer's bloom ; 
 And like a phantom-face looks 
 
 From Night's tempestupus gloom. 
 
 It falls down with the snow-flake 
 
 From heaven silently ; 
 But sinks into Earth's bosom, 
 
 And so is lost to me. 
 
l88 NATURES SECRET. 
 
 And when the youth of Nature 
 Spring's magic spells renew 
 
 With elixirs compounded 
 Of fire and of dew — 
 
 Then, then my heart exulting 
 Takes wings and soaring seeks 
 
 The secret that in every pulse 
 Of joyous Being speaks. 
 
 But oh ! the syren music 
 That lureth me alway 
 
 With promises that, mocking, 
 My senses steal away, 
 
 Is the rippling of the streamlet 
 Whose waters, bright and clear, 
 
 With sparkling glances flatter. 
 And whisper " It is here." 
 
 Ah ! could I but from Nature 
 Beguile her magic spell. 
 
 Then might my soul serenely 
 In sunshine ever dwell. 
 
NATURE'S SECRET. 1 89 
 
 Upon those heights unclouded, 
 Where Thought alone is free — 
 
 The stars look down serenely, 
 And beckon silently. 
 
 [end.] 
 
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