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PSYCHIC POEMS 
 
 B Y 
 
 DR. NELLIE BEIGHLE 
 
 Author of Book of Knowledge: Psychic Facts 
 
 Hicks-Judd Co., Printers and Bookbinders 
 270-284 Valencia St. San Francisco 
 1907 
 
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 • Ivrt) Copies Rocelv&d ? 
 
 j JUL 22 190r I 
 
 ■ /i Copyriirht Entry 
 
 OUSS ^ XXc, No. 
 COPY u. 
 
 »i i rv ii»iii ■III— «a«««»a« 
 
 Copyright, 1907 
 By DR. NELLIE BEIGHLE 
 
DEDICATION. 
 
 To my angel inspirers. 
 Through the psychic power of Dr. NelHe Beighle. 
 
INDEX TO POEMS. 
 
 Page. 
 
 Unseen -_-____.__ i 
 
 Secret Knowledge ---_._. 2 — 3 
 
 Tell Me ------- - - - 4 
 
 Oh ! For Wings -------- 5_6 
 
 Bond Of Love --------- 7 
 
 Near Thee, Still Near Thee - _ . _ . g — 9 
 
 To a Friend --_----__ jq 
 
 Passing Away -------- u 
 
 Consolation ---__--__ 12 
 
 Holy Angels Guide My Footsteps - - - - 13 
 
 Tired --_-.-_-._ 14 — 15 
 
 Religious Superstition _---_. 15 
 
 Impatience -----.___ 17 
 
 Sleep ---------- ig 
 
 Spirit Land ----.--__ 19 
 
 Call Them Not Back ------- 20 
 
INDEX TO POEMS. 
 
 {Continued^ 
 
 Page. 
 The Spirit --------- 21—22 
 
 Dreams of the Dead ------- 23 
 
 They Crown Me -------- 24 
 
 To My Sister Jessie ------- 25 
 
 Music ---------- 26 — 27 
 
 Darling _.----_-- 28-31 
 
 I Dreamed of Thee -------- 32 — ZZ 
 
 Memory --------- 34 
 
 Tears ---------- 35 
 
 Thinking OF You -------- 36—37 
 
 My Blossom --------- 38 
 
 Marriage --------- 39 
 
 Devotion ---------- 40 
 
 Sister M. C. S. and I ------ - 41 
 
 Travels ---------- 42 
 
 Miscellaneous Verse ------- 43 — 52 
 
UNSEEN 
 
 O! Thou rich world unseen! 
 That curtained realm of spirits: — thus my cry 
 Hath troubled air and silence. — Dost thou lie 
 Spread all around, yet by some filmy screen 
 Shut from us ever? The resounding woods, 
 Do their depths teem with marvels? — And the floods, 
 And the pure fountains, leading secret veins . 
 
 Of quenchless melody through rock and hill, / 
 
 Have they bright dwellers? Are there lone domains 
 Peopled with beauty, which may never still 
 Our weary thirst of soul? — Cold, weak and cold, 
 To earth's vain language; piercing not one fold 
 Of our deep being? O! for gifts more high; 
 For a seer's glance to rend mortality; 
 For a charmed rod, to call from each dark shrine 
 
 The oracles divine ! 
 
SECRET KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 Thou knewest me not in life's fresh, vernal morn, 
 I would thou hads't : — for then my heart on thine 
 Had poured another love; now, all o'erworn 
 By its deep thirst for something too divine, 
 It hath but fitful music to bestow, 
 Echoes of harpstrings broken long ago. 
 
 Yet, even in girlhood, companionless I stood, 
 As a lone forest bird, midst ocean's foam. 
 Fo;- me the silver cords of wifehood 
 Were early loosed; the voices from my home 
 Passed one by one; and melody and mirth 
 Left me a dreamer by a silent hearth. 
 
SECRET KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 (Continued.) 
 
 But with the fullness of a heart that burned 
 For the deep mysteries of soul I turned. 
 In every still, small voice and sound of power, 
 My life's one passion, the mysterious quest 
 Of secret knowledge; and each tone that broke 
 From the wood arches, or the fountain's breast, 
 Made my quick soul vibrate as a lyre, 
 And ministered to that strange, inborn fire. 
 
TELL ME. 
 
 'Tis evening-, and I sit me down 
 And take my pen in hand, 
 To write for you, my sister, dear, 
 Who is in the spirit land. 
 
 You tell me that our sacred mother 
 Is worshiped by you all. 
 And all our loved ones join you, 
 When on me you do call. 
 
 With friends, they are so many, 
 Who join the happy band, 
 Filled with holy power and wisdom. 
 Which they bring from the spirit land. 
 
TELL ME. 
 (Continued.) 
 
 And you tell me that my father 
 And our brothers and sisters dear 
 Have power from our Father in Heaven, 
 To guard and protect us here. 
 
 You tell me that my God-given son 
 Has unlimited power from above 
 To enter the homes of the sorrowful, 
 And bring consolation and love. 
 
 And I am waiting, and waiting, and waiting. 
 For my loved ones to call me home; 
 But tell them I know you are with me 
 Wherever I may roam. 
 
OH! FOR WINGS. 
 
 For wings ! For wings ! like a dove to fly, 
 
 Beyond the arch of the sapphire sky! 
 
 To mount unchained through the depths of air; 
 
 To bathe in floods of the beauty there; 
 
 And, raptured, Hst to the hymning spheres. 
 
 With bhss unstayed by the flight of years. 
 
 Earth is no home for the deathless soul; 
 It yieldeth not to its base control; 
 But, like a bird, in its upward flight, 
 It tires and faints for its home of light. 
 And pants to burst from its prison, free 
 To blend itself with eternity. 
 
BOND OF LOVE. 
 
 It was not with bonds of common love 
 
 Our hearts were knit together; we had been 
 
 Silent companions in those griefs which move 
 
 And purify the soul; and we had seen 
 
 Each other's strength and truth of mind, and hence, 
 
 We loved with passion's holiest confidence. 
 
NEAR THEE, STILL NEAR THEE. 
 
 Near thee, still near thee ; o'er thy pathway gliding. 
 Unseen, I pass thee with the winds low sigh; 
 Life's veil enfolds thee still, our eyes dividing, 
 Yet vainless love floats round thee silently. 
 
 Not midst the festal throng, 
 
 In halls of mirth and song; 
 
 But when thy thoughts are deepest, 
 
 When holy tears thou weepest. 
 
 Know then that love is nigh ! 
 
 When the night's whisper o'er the harpstrings creeping. 
 Or the sea music on the sounding shore; 
 Or breezy anthems through the forests sweeping, 
 Shall move thy trembling spirit to adore; 
 
NEAR THEE, STILL NEAR THEE. 
 
 (Continued.) 
 
 When every thought of prayer, 
 We loved to breathe and share. 
 On thy full heart returning 
 Shall v^ake its voiceless yearning, 
 Then, feel me near once more. 
 
 The fields of air are free, 
 
 Yet lonely, w^anting thee; 
 
 But when the chains are falling; 
 
 When heaven its own is calling, 
 
 Know then thy loved one is nigh. 
 
TO A FRIEND. 
 
 But Oh ! sweet friend ! we dream not of love's might 
 Till death has robed with soft and solemn light 
 The image we enshrine! Before that hour, 
 We have but glimpses of the o'er mastering power 
 Within us laid! Then doth the spirit flame, 
 With sword-light lightning rend its mortal frame. 
 
 10 
 
PASSING AWAY. 
 
 "Passing away" is written on the world, and all the world contains; 
 It is written on the lily, in its glory's full array, 
 
 "Passing away." 
 
 It is written on the skies; it is traced in sunset's dyes, 
 
 "Passing away." 
 
 It is written on the trees, and on brighter things than these, 
 
 "Passing away." 
 
 It is written on the heart, should claim from love a part, 
 
 "Passing away." 
 
 Blessed friends ! Oh ! shall we meet in a land of purer clay, 
 
 Pass not away? 
 
 Shall we know each other there, and the thoughts that in them lay, 
 
 "Passing away?" 
 
 Oh! if this may be so, quickly, quickly close the day, 
 
 Do pass away! 
 11 
 
CONSOLATION. 
 
 Why mourn thee for the dead? 
 Why weep o'er severed ties? 
 The veil around us spread 
 Conceals them from our eyes ; 
 The distant heavens w^e seek in vain, 
 Where parted friends shall meet again; 
 The near, Oh ! brightly w^ill it dawn, 
 When that dark veil shall be withdrawn. 
 
 12 
 
HOLY ANGELS GUIDE MY FOOTSTEPS. 
 
 Holy Angels, guide my footsteps, 
 Guard my thoughts and actions, too, 
 Fill my soul with holy wisdom, 
 Tell me what you would have me do. 
 
 1 
 
 13 
 
TIRED. 
 
 I'm tired of gleaning when fain I would reap, 
 I'm tired of smiling when fain I would weep, 
 I'm tired of all the lonely hours that creep; 
 So tired. 
 
 I'm tired of building idols of clay, 
 Of watching hope's sweet visions fade away, 
 Of learning bitter lessons day by day; 
 So tired. 
 
 I'm tired of trusting but to be deceived, 
 Of doubting when 'twould be better to beheve, 
 Of failure when so much should be achieved; 
 So tired. 
 
 14 
 
TIRED. 
 
 (Continued.) 
 
 And yet I'm waiting day by day, 
 For the loved ones to call me o'er the way, 
 And I wonder much at their long delay, 
 For I am still so tired. 
 
 Rest, weary mortal, child of earth, 
 Turn thy sadness into mirth; 
 
 Years will come and go ere there comes a new birth, 
 But then you will not be tired. 
 
 15 
 
RELIGIOUS SUPERSTITION. 
 
 For when the soul is bHnd 
 
 To freedom, truth and inward Hght, 
 
 Vague fears debase the mind. 
 
 16 
 
IMPATIENCE. 
 
 Oh! answer, orb of the silver glow! 
 
 My soul is faint in its thirst to know; 
 
 Answer me, stars of the cloudless sky! 
 
 My thought has pierced where your pathway lies, 
 
 Till lost, and tired of the empty strife, 
 
 My spirit yearns for its after life. 
 
 17 
 
SLEEP. 
 
 Come to me, gentle sleep! 
 I pine, I pine for thee; 
 Come with thy spells, the soft, the deep, 
 And set my spirit free! 
 Each lonely, burning thought 
 In twilight languor steep; 
 Come to the full heart, long o'er-wrought, 
 O gentle, gentle sleep! 
 
 Come with thine urn of dew. 
 Sleep, gentle sleep! Yet bring 
 No voice, love's yearning to renew, 
 No vision on thy wing! 
 Come as to folding flowers. 
 To birds in forests deep; 
 Long, dark and dreamless be thine hours, 
 O gentle, gentle sleep ! 
 
 18 
 
SPIRIT LAND. 
 
 Spirit land ! Thou land of dreams, 
 A world thou art of mysterious gleams; 
 Of startling voices, and sounds at strife; 
 A world of the dead in the hues of life. 
 
 Like a wizard's magic gloss thou art. 
 When the wavy shadows float by, and part ; 
 Visions of aspects now loved, now strange; 
 Glimmering and mingling in ceaseless change. 
 
 And thy bowers are fair, — even as Eden fair, 
 All the beloved of my soul are there; 
 The forms my spirit most pines to see; 
 The eyes whose love has been life to me. 
 
 They are there: And each blessed voice I hear 
 Kindly and joyous, and silvery clear; 
 And in happy tones each one shall say, 
 "We are glad you are with us here today." 
 
 19 
 
CALL THEM NOT BACK. 
 
 Oh! lightly, lightly tread, 
 A holy thing is sleep. 
 On the worn spirit shed 
 And eyes that wake to weep. 
 
 Ye know not what ye do 
 That call the slumberer back, 
 From the world unseen by you, 
 Unto life's dim, faded, track, 
 
 Her soul is far away. 
 In her childhood's land, perchance, 
 Where her young sisters play. 
 Where shines her mother's glance. 
 
 Each voice of love is there; 
 Each gleam of beauty fled; 
 Each lost one still more fair; 
 Oh! lightly, lightly tread. 
 
 20 
 
THE SPIRIT. 
 
 Will not thy spirit aid me then to raise 
 
 The trembling pinions of my hope from earth? 
 
 Thou friend of many years 
 
 Of sadness and of joy, of home and hearth, 
 
 Come to me when my soul 
 
 Hath but a few hours to linger here. 
 
 When earthly chains are as a shriveled scroll; 
 
 Oh! let me feel thy presence! Be but near! 
 
 That I may look once more 
 
 Into thine eyes, which never changed for me; 
 
 That I may speak to thee of that bright shore, 
 
 Where, with our treasures, we have longed to be. 
 
 21 
 
THE SPIRIT. 
 
 (Continued.) 
 
 By any lofty theme, 
 
 Whereon, in low-toned reverence we have spoken; 
 
 By our communion in each fervent dream 
 
 Tho sought from realms beyond the grave a token ; 
 
 Come to me on that day, — 
 
 The one — that severed from all days, — O friend! 
 
 Even then, if human thought may then have sway, 
 
 My soul with thine shall yet rejoice to blend. 
 
 22 
 
DREAMS OF THE DEAD. 
 
 Oft in the still night, dreams of a departed face 
 Bends o'er me with sweet earnestness of eye, 
 Wearing no more of earthly pains a trace 
 On the dear brow of immortality; calm, yet profound. 
 
 Oh! rich sleep! 
 
 Thou hast strong spirits in thy region deep 
 Which glorify, with reconciling breath. 
 Effacing, brightening, giving forth to shine. 
 Beauty's high truth. And how much more divine 
 Thy power, when we know there is no death. 
 
 23 
 
THEY CROWN ME. 
 
 They crown me with a ghstening crown 
 Borne from the angels above : 
 I hear the peaHng music of renown 
 From the voices that I love. 
 
 They tell me that my soul can throw 
 A glory o'er the earth : 
 To thee, O Father ! thanks I give, 
 And the angels for their worth. 
 
 24 
 
TO MY SISTER JESSIE. 
 
 Sweet, gentle soul, when thou wert used to reign 
 My spirit's queen, when wrapt in mortal clay, 
 Now, immortal, shalt thou rule again. 
 
 25 
 
MUSIC. 
 
 Whence is the might of thy master spell? 
 Speak to me, voice of sweet sound, and tell 
 How canst thou wake by one gentle breath, 
 Passionate visions of love and death? 
 
 How callest thou back, with a note, a sigh, 
 Words and low tones; the days gone by; 
 A sunny glance, or a fond farewell? 
 Speak to me, voice of sweet sound, and tell! 
 
 What is thy power, from the soul's deep spring, 
 In sudden gushes the tears to bring? 
 Even midst the swells of thy festal glee, 
 Fountains of sorrow are stirred by thee. 
 
 26 
 
MUSIC. 
 
 (Continued.) 
 
 Something of mystery there surely dwells, 
 Waiting thy touch, in our bosom cells: 
 Something that finds not its answer here; 
 A chain to be clasped in another sphere. 
 
 Yet, speak to me still, though thy tones be fraught 
 With vain remembrance and troubled thought; 
 Speak! for thou tellest my soul that its birth 
 Links it with regions more bright than earth. 
 
 27 
 
DARLING. 
 
 Each day is so full of you, darling, 
 
 That I cannot realize 
 You are gone from the world of turmoil 
 
 To the peace of paradise. 
 
 For, ever, from morn till nightfall, 
 Some hint of your presence I know, — 
 Some gleam of a vanishing vision, 
 Half caught in the sunset glow. 
 
 28 
 
DARLING. 
 
 (Continued.) 
 
 Each day I think of you, darHng, 
 That I call this a blessed time; 
 My soul is full of its sweetness, 
 Brightened by many a sign 
 
 That those who have passed through death's portals 
 
 Are still very near to us here; 
 
 That spirit to spirit responsive 
 
 Makes all the great meaning grow clear. 
 
 29 
 
DARLING. 
 
 (Continued.) 
 
 Each day is so full of you, darling, 
 That I walk in a happy surprise, 
 Finding thus my thoughts so companioned 
 And my prayers for high purposes rise; 
 
 To plead for divine benediction, 
 For energy, courage and power 
 To live the high life of the spirit ; 
 To stamp with fulfillment each hour. 
 
 30 
 
DARLING. 
 
 (Continued.) 
 
 Each day is so full of you, darling, 
 That I cannot know grief or regret. 
 For my soul is full of its beauty; 
 Its promise; its solace; and yet 
 
 Ah ! love, my supreme consolation 
 Is a faith that will some day come true 
 That lends all its cheer to the present, 
 The faith of reunion with you. 
 
 31 
 
I DREAMED OF THEE. 
 
 I dreamed of thee, where leaves were greenest, 
 And the flowers around us were sweet and fair; 
 The cloudless heaven shone out serenest, 
 And thy brow was free from a shade of care; 
 
 And I dreamed I wandered o'er hill and heather, 
 That livelong day of light and love, 
 Untired, unflagging, still together. 
 Glad as the earth and the heavens above. 
 
 32 
 
I DREAMED OF THEE. 
 (Continued.) 
 
 I dreamed; — I awoke; — thou are not near me: 
 I cannot look in thine eyes today; 
 I cannot have thy voice to cheer me ; 
 Oh! Life is sad when thou art away: 
 
 But my spirit, her eager wing extending, 
 Hath flown, in the Hght of hope, to thine; 
 And I know thy heart of hearts is blending 
 Its vital stream of love with mine. 
 
 33 
 
MEMORY. 
 
 Stronger than death, thou art, 
 
 Oh Memory ! Thou with watchful care art keeping 
 
 The dearest treasures of the human heart. 
 
 34 
 
TEARS. 
 
 A tear ! 'Tis the language of feeling, 
 Of sympathy, grief, and of bliss; 
 A tear, 'tis the message revealing 
 To friends, the heart's deepest abyss. 
 A tear, 'tis the seal of affection, 
 'Tis sweet sensibility's gem; 
 Then hail to the balm of affliction. 
 All hail to the heart's diadem. 
 
 35 
 
THINKING OF YOU. 
 
 Sweet have I known the blossoms of the morning, 
 Tenderly tinted to their hearts of dew; 
 But now my flowers have found fuller fragrance, 
 Thinking of you. 
 
 Long have I worshiped, in my soul enshrining, 
 High visions of the noble and the true; 
 Now all my visions and all my prayers are purer, 
 Thinking of you. 
 
 Wise have I seen the uses of life's labor, 
 To all its puzzles found some answering clew; 
 But now my life has learned a nobler meaning, 
 Thinking of you. 
 
 36 
 
THINKING OF YOU. 
 
 (Continued.) 
 
 In the past days I chafed at pain and waiting; 
 Grasped at happiness, as children do; 
 Now it is sweet to wait, and joy to suffer, 
 Thinking of you. 
 
 Whether our Hps shall touch, or hands shall linger; 
 Whether our love be fed, or joys be few; 
 Life will be sweeter and more worth the living. 
 Thinking of you. 
 
 i7 
 
MY BLOSSOM. 
 
 Do you remember the first day I met you, 
 You spoke and turned aside, 
 
 As though my presence annoyed you, 
 You blessed, darHng child! 
 
 Do you remember the next time I met you. 
 Your soul seemed to grasp the divine; 
 And from that very hour, 
 You, blessed child, w^ere mine. 
 
 You, for the power of glory; 
 You, for the power of light; 
 You, for God's holy wisdom 
 Is with you from morn till night. 
 
 38 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 Speak it not lightly ! Oh. beware, beware, 
 
 'Tis no vain promise, no unmeaning word; 
 
 Lo! men and angels lisp the faith ye swear, 
 
 And by the High and Holy One 'tis heard; 
 
 Oh, then kneel humbly at this altar now, 
 
 And pray for strength to keep your marriage vow. 
 
 39 
 
DEVOTION. 
 
 Hush! 'Tis a holy hour! The quiet room 
 
 Seems like a temple, while the soft light sheds 
 
 A starry radiance through the gloom, 
 
 And angels whisper words of love, 
 
 And we bow our souls in prayer from above. 
 
 40 
 
SISTER M. C. S. AND I. 
 
 We blend together, you and I, 
 With love from the angels from on high, 
 Until our souls seemed joined together 
 In this great world and in the other. 
 
 Our heavenly Father, we give thee thanks, 
 And to our angels in all ranks. 
 For their constant devotion to you and me; 
 And thus it shall be throughout eternity. 
 
 41 
 
TRAVELS. 
 
 You are going on your travels, 
 But remember, our dear ones. 
 That angels guide your footsteps 
 Wherever you may roam. 
 
 On steamer, cars, or carriages, 
 Think not of danger, dears, 
 We will all surround you, 
 And make the way so clear. 
 
 Till you reach your homeward journey 
 Call on us night and day; 
 Our blessings are ever with you 
 Roam wherever you may. 
 
 42 
 
Hast thou been told that from the viewless bourn 
 The dark way never hath allowed return? 
 That all which tears can move with life is fled — 
 That earthly love is powerless on the dead? 
 Believe it not. 
 
 — Felicia Hemans. 
 
 43 
 
Is Death the end? Over the grave bends Love sobbing, and by 
 her side stands Hope, and whispers : "We shall meet again. Before 
 all life is death, and after all death is life. The falling leaf, touched 
 v^ith the hectic flush, that testifies of autumn's death, is, in a subtler 
 sense, a prophecy of spring." 
 
 — Robert G. Ingersoll. 
 
 44 
 
Hast thou not glimpses, in the twilight here, 
 Of mountains where immortal morn prevails? 
 Comes there not, through their silence, to thine ear 
 A gentle murmur of the morning gales 
 That sweep th' ambrosial groves of that bright shore, 
 And thence the fragrance of its blossom bear. 
 And voices of the loved ones, gone before, 
 More musical in that celestial air? 
 
 — William Cullen Bryant. 
 
 45 
 
Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, 
 
 As the swift seasons roll! 
 
 Leave thy low- vaulted past ! 
 Let each new temple, nobler than the last 
 Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast. 
 
 Till thou at length art free, 
 Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea. 
 
 — Oliver Wendell Holmes. 
 
 46 
 
It lies about us like a cloud, 
 
 A world we do not see, 
 
 Yet the sweet closing of an eye. 
 
 May bring us there to be. 
 
 Its gentle breathings fan our cheek, 
 
 Amidst our worldly cares; 
 
 Its gentle voices whisper love, 
 
 And mingle with our prayers. 
 
 — Harriet Beecher Stowe. 
 
 47 
 
"Man, thou shalt never die!" Celestial voices 
 Hymn it unto our souls: according harps, 
 By angel fingers touched, when the mild stars 
 Of morning sang together, sound forth still 
 The song of our great immortality. 
 
 — R. H. Dana. 
 
 48 
 
Yet Love will dream, and Faith will trust, 
 (Since He who knows our need is just), 
 That somehow, somewhere, meet we must. 
 Alas for him who never sees 
 The stars shine through his cypress trees. 
 Who, hopeless, lays his dead away, 
 Nor looks to see the breaking day 
 Across the mournful marbles play. 
 Who hath not learned, in hours of faith, 
 The truth to flesh and sense unknown. 
 That Life is ever lord of Death 
 And Love can never lose its own. 
 
 —John G. Whittier. 
 
 49 
 
Thus the seer, 
 
 With vision clear, 
 
 Sees forms appear and disappear. 
 
 In the perpetual round of strange 
 
 Mysterious change 
 
 From birth to death, from death to birth; 
 
 From earth to heaven, from heaven to earth, 
 
 Till glimpses more sublime 
 
 Of things unseen before 
 
 Unto his wondering eyes reveal 
 
 The universe, as an immeasurable wheel 
 
 Turning forevermore 
 
 In the rapid and rushing river of time. 
 
 — Longfellow. 
 
 50 
 
Time may come, when men 
 With angels may participate, and find 
 No inconvenient diet, nor too Hght fare; 
 And from these corporal nutriments, perhaps. 
 Your bodies may at last turn all to spirit. 
 Improved by tract of time, and winged, ascend, 
 Ethereal, as we; or may, at choice, 
 Here or in heavenly paradises dwell; 
 If ye be found obedient, and retain. 
 Unalterably firm. His love entire. 
 Whose progeny you are. 
 
 —Milton. 
 
 51 
 
Thou art] — directing-, g-uiding all — Thou art! 
 
 Direct my understanding then to thee; 
 
 Control my spirit, guide my wandering heart; 
 
 Though but an atom midst immensity, 
 
 Still I am something, fashioned by thy hand! 
 
 I hold a middle rank 'twixt heaven and earth — 
 
 On the last verge of mortal being stand, 
 
 Close to the realms where angels have their birth, 
 
 Just on the boundaries of the spirit-land! 
 
 — Derzhaven. 
 
 52 
 
Life is joy, and love is power, 
 Death all fetters doth unbind, 
 Strength and wisdom only flower 
 When we toil for all our kind. 
 
 Hope is truth, — the future giveth 
 More than present takes away. 
 And the soul forever liveth 
 Nearer God from day to day. 
 
 — James Russell Lowell. 
 
 53 
 
If thou shouldst never see my face again, 
 
 Pray for my soul. More things are wrought by prayer 
 
 Than this world dreams of. Wherefore let thy voice 
 
 Rise like a fountain for me night and day. 
 
 For what are men better than sheep or goats 
 
 That nourish a blind life within the brain, 
 
 If, knowing God, they lift not hands of prayer 
 
 Both for themselves and those who call them friend? 
 
 For so the whole round earth is every way 
 
 Bound by gold chains about the feet of God. 
 
 But now farewell. I am going a long way 
 
 With these thou seest — if indeed I go — 
 
 (For all my mind is clouded with a doubt) 
 
 To the island-valley of Avilion; 
 
 Where falls not hail, or rain, or any snow, 
 
 Nor ever wind blows loudly; but it lies 
 
 Deep-meadowed, happy, fair with orchard-lawns, 
 
 And bowery hollows crown'd with summer seas, 
 
 Where I will heal me of my grievous wound. 
 
 ^ — Tennyson. 
 
 54 
 
They sin who tell us love can die, 
 
 With life all other passions fly; 
 
 All ours are but vanity. 
 
 In heaven ambition cannot dwell, 
 
 Nor avarice in the vaults of hell; 
 
 Earthly these passions, as of earth. 
 
 They perish where they drew their breath; 
 
 But love is indestructible; 
 
 Its holy flame forever burnetii; 
 
 From heaven it came, to heaven returneth. 
 
 — Robert Southey. 
 
 55 
 
The spiritual stars rise nightly, shedding down 
 A private beam into each several heart. 
 Daily the bending skies solicit man, 
 The seasons chariot him from this exile, 
 The rainbow hours bedeck his glowing chair, 
 The storm-winds urge the heavy weeks along. 
 Suns haste to set, that so remoter lights 
 Beckon the wanderer to his vaster home. 
 
 — Ralph Waldo Emerson. 
 
 56 
 
And, thoug-h the way to such a goal 
 
 Lies through the clouded tomb, 
 
 If on the free, unfettered soul 
 
 There rest no stains of gloom, 
 
 How should its aspirations rise 
 
 Far through the blue, unpillared skies, 
 
 Up to its final home! 
 
 Beyond the journeyings of the sun. 
 
 Where streams of living waters run. 
 
 — James G. Clark. 
 
 57 
 
Wonders breathe in our face 
 
 And we ask not their name; 
 
 Love takes all the blame 
 
 Of the world's prison-place; 
 
 And we sing back the songs as we guess them, aloud, 
 
 And we send up the lark of our music that cuts 
 
 Untired through the cloud 
 
 To beat with its wings at the lattice Heaven shuts; 
 
 Yet the angels look down and the mortals look up 
 
 As the little wings beat, 
 
 And the poet is blessed with their pity or hope. 
 
 'Twixt the heavens and the earth can a poet despond? 
 
 O Life, O Beyond, 
 Thou art strange, thou are sweet ! 
 
 — Elizabeth B. Browning. 
 
 58 
 
I know not too well how I found my way home in the night. 
 
 There were witnesses, cohorts about me, to left and to right, 
 
 Angels, powers, the unuttered, unseen, the alive, the aware; 
 
 I repressed, I got through them, as hardly, as strugglingly there, 
 
 As a runner beset by the populace famished for news — 
 
 Life or death. The whole earth was awakened, hell loosed with 
 
 her crews; 
 And the stars of night beat with emotion, and tingled and shot 
 Out in fire the strong pain of pent knowledge; but I fainted not, 
 For the Hand still impelled me at once and supported, suppressed 
 All the tumult, and quenched it with quiet, and holy behest, 
 Till the rapture was shut in itself, and the earth sank to rest. 
 
 — Robert Browning. 
 
 59 
 
Smitten friends 
 Are angels sent as messengers of love; 
 For us they languish, and for us they die: 
 And shall they languish, shall they die in vain? 
 Ungrateful, shall we grieve their hovering shades 
 Which wait the revolution in our hearts? 
 Shall we disdain their silent, soft address — 
 Their posthumous advice and pious prayer? 
 
 — Edward Young. 
 
 60 
 
We dream, but they awake; 
 
 Dread visions mar our rest; 
 
 Through thorns and snares our way we take, 
 
 And yet we mourn the blest ! 
 
 For spirits round the Eternal Throne 
 
 How vain the tears we shed ! 
 
 They are the living-, they alone. 
 
 Whom thus we call the dead. 
 
 — Mrs. Sigourney. 
 
 61 
 
When even at last the solemn hour shall come, 
 And wing my mystic flight to future worlds, 
 I cheerful will obey; there, with new powers, 
 Will rising wonders sing. I cannot go 
 Where universal love not smiles around, 
 Sustaining all yon orbs, and all their suns; 
 From seeming evil still educing good. 
 And better thence again, and better still, 
 In infinite progression. But I lose 
 Myself in Him, in Light ineffable! 
 
 — James Thomson. 
 
 62 
 
JUL 
 
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J-gRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
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