.*<«, **,v >M* **- ..*^-, ««,»..•**. -^Av .-*M-.-*M».;*«*-<*l*;i*l-- Class JBS-LZ64- Book > H 1 S V CopyrightN^ 1 COPyRIGHT DEPOSIT. SILENCE S. MILLER HAGEMAN. \ Princeton, N. J. FIFTEENTH EDITION. BROOKLYN, L. I : PUBLISHED BY D. S. HOLMES. 450 BEDFORD AVE. LIBR*f>V ■^^ fJONGRFSS Two Onoies Rprfiived JUL 22 1904 n Cooyrlpht tntry PuA^ XI — ia o ^ CLASS- cc- XXc. No. ^ q, f n COPY B ' COP'.TIGWT. 1870, By Dodd, Mead & CoMPA^fY. TO THE MEMORY MY MOTHER. C-S WHAT THE GBEAT POETS AND AUTHORS OF THE WORLD SAY OF "SILENCE." " Full of fine imagination. " Henkt W. Longfellow. "Silence is a beautiful poem. It has many passages noteworthy for thought and expression, which have stamped themselves on my memory at first reading." John Greenleaf Whittier. "The poem on Silence has impressed me by its fertility of fancy and affluence of illustration. Its author has brought to it a fine poetic entbu- Biasm which is felt in every stanza, and which in other bauds would have yielded but meager results." W. CuLLEN Bryant. " Silence has afibrded me great pleasure in reading it." Oliver Wendell Holmes. " I have read the poem more than once, with interest and admiration. I congratulate the author on the beauty of bis work." Iean Ingelow. "I have read Silence with very great pleasure, and am much struck by the beauty of many of them." The Duke of Argyll. '' Tour book of poems demands my most distinguished considei-a- tion.'' ALPHONZO XII, King of Spain. " I have had great pleasure in reading it." DoM Pedro. "Her Majesty the Queen has been graciously pleased to accept the poem, entitled Silence, and commands that her thanks be sent to the au- thor." Queen Victoria, (through her Secretary.) " Silence is a poem of great xroetical beauty." James McCosh. Pres. of Princeton College. Letters from Charles Spurgeon, Disraeli, Lord D^rby, Gladstone, and almost all the noted foreign authors, as well as American, have been re- ceived, speaking most highly of this beautiful looem, besides the most flattering reviews from all the American and foreign papers. PROEM. THE FORTY-SIXTH PSALM. A TRUE TRANSLATIOK. •♦< God is our refuge and strength ; Found thoroughly a help in troubles. Therefore will not we fear though the earth should change, And the mountains rock like the midst of the seas. Let its floods moan and boil ; Let the mountains toss as its crest. It shall be a river the streams whereo! shall glad the city of God : 6 PROEM. It shall be the holiest of the dwellings of the Most High. God is in the midst of her. • She shall not be rocked in waves. God shall help her at the turning of the morning. The nations mo?n. The kingdoms rod He utters his voice. The earth melti/. Be still ; and know that I am God ! SILENCE. 1. Slowly climb the moon-touched moun- tains up their stairway to the sky, Slowly each white cloud ascending, seems a soul, that passed on high : Summit billowing after summit higher and still higher grow, Till they break in awful Silence on a glit- tering strand of snow. SILENCE. II. Silent cataract of summits, stiffened on thy frozen verge, Leaping in tumultuous silence to thy adamantine surge : Motionless, yet grandly moving, seems thy avalanche of stone. Silence ! Be thou everlasting, on thy soli- tary throne. SILENCE. III. Kt thy base, the swirling river chatters idly to the clod, At thy brow, thy head is lifted through the cloud to talk with God : Prophet-like, with mantle folded round thy dread and spectral form. Far below thee screams the eagle, far be- low thee raves the storm. SILENCE. IV. Often in my early fancy had I roved in search of rest, As the southern bird at springtime, seeks afar its northern nest ; Often in my elder yearning had I dreamed within me deep, Of that high repose that evei lies upon the soul like sleep. SILENCE. M V. Of a sweet and tender silence, that should soothe each aching sound, As the snow within the church-yard marbles every aching mound : Where the soul should find its footing in the spiritual rock. Like a lord within a castle, built above the billow's shock. 12 SILENCE. VI. Not in vain yon towering mountains, that I marked your silver spires ; Not in vain yon reddening heavens, fretted with your cresset-fires : Torch of Nature, thou hast led me from thy summit far and free. To a height within my spirit that is grander far than thee. SILENCE. 13 VII. Far above earth's transient echoes, far above earth's broken sound, Domes the overarching distance of the blue receding round : Softly as the world grows louder, softly o'er the rising din, Hear the great white Silence open like a lily on the lin. 14 SILENCE. VIII. Greatness lies insphered in silence, littleness to sound is stirred, All the grandest things in Nature never have been seen or heard : Proving down by printless logic all the science of the school, Silence is the law of being, Sound, the breaking of the rule. SILENCE. IS IX. Wind was flourishing its trumpets, but th' embattled air is still, Streams were roaring down the gorges, they have thridded to a rill ; Thunder rumbled on the heaven, but its chariots have sped, Man was talking to his fellow, but the man grew dumb — and dead. 1 6 SILENCE. X. Every sound shall end in silence, but the silence never dies, From the roar of swarming cities, from the vague of peopled skies; From the wind and from the forest, from the cliff and from the sea. Like a child unto its mother, all thy sounds come back to thee. SILENCE. 17 XI. So, like her who bade us open eyes she yet may fix in death, Thou hast brought us into being, thou shalt take away our breath ; Thou art Alpha and Omega, for a world is in thy womb. Thou art Alpha and Omega, for a world is in thy tomb. 1 8 SILENCE. XII. Far into the Past I wandered, paused within its mellow clime, Where the Lethean years were crossing at the Jabbok-ford of Time; Felt the boundaries of being sink around me into space, Listened, but could hear no echo, looked, but saw nor form nor face. SILENCE. 19 XIII. Shadows of 1,he ashen ages, ere this wreck- ing ark of earth Sailed upon the soundless ether, round the great sun's beaconing hearth • When the circumfluent Silence washed the cold sphere with its wave, When man lived within his Maker, as Chri?t lived within the grave. ■20 SILENCE. XIV. Noiselessly, the round Creation slowly rose into its place, Like the moon at night, ascending on the star-sloped stairs of space: To its walls there came no workman, to its towers no touch of hand, Without sound, like some great palm-tree, spreading over sea and land. SILENCE. ai- XV. Strata overleaping strata from the center to the crust, Rose, Alp-high, in molten silence, as the dead rise from the dust ; Rounding over all its angles softly as creation's call, Poising on its noiseless nothing, spins this intercipient ball. SILEACE XVI Noiselessly, the bright procession ot the Seasons rounds in sight, Thronging up the deep perspective through the minster-aisles of night ; Noiselessly, the light's red chrism over- flows the brim of space. Like the wine, whose blushing colors pur- ple in the chaliced vase. SILENCE. 23 XVII. As the fingers of the sunbeams lift the drapery of night, Soundlessly its forms are shaping 'neath the touches of the light ; And, with eloquence unuttered, speak they to the listening heart. As the traveler softly enters Nature's gallery of Art. 24 SILENCE. XVIII. Rolls the glimmering wheel of motion ever without clog or jar, In the orb, and in the ocean, in the earth's incrusted star ; In the law of heat, whose lever turns the globe, without a sound ; In the law of gravitation, holding motion to its bound. SILENCE. 25 XIX. Earth is but the frozen echo of the silent voice of God, Like a dewdrop in a crystal throbbing in the senseless clod : Silence is the heart of all things, sound, the fluttering of its pulse, Which the fever and the spasm of the Universe convulse. 26 SILENCE. XX. Silence is the incarnation of an infinite idea, Kept in nature by a process that we neither see nor hear ; For the thought of God eternal cannot wholly be expressed, But a fading arc of nature rolls in light above the rest. SILENCE, 27 XXL Waveless seas are softly brewing in their continents of stone, On whose ofring tossing shadows of white sails shall yet be thrown ; Like the pc-^ce that passeth knowledge shines the rainbow in the rock, Perfect shapes ^re prov c]ly waiting in the unsuspected block. «S SILENCE. XXII. Solemn spell of all the ages, finger on the lip of God, Like a shout of nations rising back to him from sea and sod ; The " I Am " of the Creator well opposed in restful life, To the " I Become " of creature, shuffling in its fitful strife. SILENCE. 29 XXIII. Every sound that breaks the silence only makes it more profound, Like a crash of deafening thunder in the sweet blue stillness drowned ; Let thy soul walk softly in thee, as a saint in heaven unshod, For to be alone with Silence is to be alone with God. 30 SILENCE. XXIV. Swells a sound upon the prairie, roadly heaving with the breeze, Tis the roaring of the silence, like the roaring of the seas: Breaking out on that vast ocean in a seething foam of flowers, Splashing up its dripping spray of sunlight through the dial-hours. SILENCE. 31 XXV. Burn, ye stars like altar-candles, round the golden throne of God ; Bloom, ye flowers like fragrant footprints, where his after-thoughts have trod; Steal, oh river like a tear-drop over Nature's furrowed cheek, I'or there is no speech — no language where your silence does not speak. 32 SILENCE. XXVI. What is history? Half-blown Silence lift- ing leaf by leaf its bud, Be it read by book or battle, be it traced by drops of blood ; Providence, the perfect poem of a God whose name is Love, bet on eaith to seeming discord, set to music far above. SILENCE. 33 XXVII. That which makes the things that are not like unto the things that are, That which makes the past seem present, bringing near the dim — the far; Wisps a waif of mellow music from a long forgotten harp, Weaves a new and gorgeous fashion from a faded woof and warp. 3 34 SILENCE. XXVIII. Overlooks a distant battle in the evening of the day, Calls the roll of earth's dead cities, hears them start up from the clay ; Strikes a sense of living beauty on the scenes that are no more, Marks the ocean of oblivion cast its shells upon the shore. SILENCE. 35 XXIX. Every angel in his chainless freedom looks upon a slave, Every star that shines in heaven still must shine upon a grave ; On the drift my feet are sliding, and my earthly eyes are dust, Up to God a voice I lift, in some such words as these — 1 trust. SILENCE. XXX. Voice of Silence, thou art speaking from the Palace of the past, On whose old memoric windows faces full of life are cast ; Where the Kings of thought, enthroned, like a star on midnight peak. Rule the world with silent spirits, who, though being dead — yet speak. ' SILENCE. 37 XXXI. Voice of Silence, thou art speaking in the apanage of art, In the mute, electric echoes that through air and ocean dart ; In the sunlight, falling on us like God's shadow passing by. At whose touch the dead are looking on us with a life-like eye. ^8 SILENCE. XXXII. Voice of Silence, thou art speaking from the stone-sealed lips of sleep, That, without a sound or motion, in its spell all sound doth keep ; In whose swaddling clothes enfolden lie, too pure for waking sins, Cradled in a mortal creature. Life and Death, like sleeping twins. SILENCE. 39 XXXIII. Voice of Silence, thou art speaking in the ministry of man, On the Nebo of remora, prophet to an endless plan ; And, by silent testimony, and, by influence unheard, Doth he more for God oi drvil, than he doth by war or word. 40 SILENCE. XXXIV. Voice of Silence, thou art speaking on the Patmos-isle of earth. Where God's reachless revelations rise unuttered from their birth; Brightly, like a burning city, flames the sunset in the sky, Through whose great cathedral-window shines the City built on high. SILENCE. 41 XXXV. Silence on the pallid face-cloth, Silence on the snowy grave, Silence on the sleeping city, Silence far below the wave : Silence, as of music slumbering on her harp within the deep, Sound is but the dream of Silence, Silence talking in its sleep. 42 SILENCE. XXXVI. Sound is but the rippling shadow of the silence, deep and grand, Silent is the force that hideth in the sound of wheel and hand ; Silent is the power that riots in the tem- pest's wanton might ; Just behind the floating storm-cloud lies the calm eternal lisht. SILENCE, 43 XXXVII. Faintly on the solid silence comes the carven bust of Thought, Shadow of all earthly sculpture by an artist ever wrought ; Without sound, and without touching, felt to form it stands outlined. Solid fact, and fine-grained finish, on the marble of the mind. 44 SILENCE. XXXVIII. Thus it was that as I wandered, often, on the yellow beach, Day to day was uttering knowledge, night to night was showing speech : Till the stillness grew oppressive, so that when I left the spot. On the sounding shore the ocean thun- dered ; but I heard it not. SILENCE. 45 XXXIX. In the spell of summer evenings, 'neath the light of mellow moons, Glide the gondoliers of Venice dimly down the blue lagoons: O, the songs that melt along those purl- ing streets beyond the sea I O, the sweet Italian twilights ! O, the land of Italy ! 46 SILENCE. XL. Once, my heated soul was looking from the window of its hope, And before it lay life's landscape with the sun upon the slope : Far I leaned into the Future, from the Old into the New, But my breath hath blurred the glass, and hid the vision from my view. SILENCE. 47 XLI. Once, my pure white thoughts lay floating on my heart, as floats the flake Of the christened water-HIy starred upon the crystal lake : But the ice of tears has hardened on that crimson-crusted stream. On its lilies, crushed and shattered, dead within a frozen dream. 48 SILENCE. XLII. And to-night, when stars are shivering coldly to the darkened slope, Still a soul is sadly looking from the window of its hope ; Longing in its gentle grief to fly away and be at rest, Like the nightingale complaining to the red thorn at its breast. SILENCE. 49 XLIII. Hear a broken voice within thee struggUng with the perfect will, Hush it in the strong submission of thy spirit, and be still : Stillness, in which thou shalt hear the fall- ing of a lifted rod. Stillness, in which thou shalt hear the full- orbed whisper of a God. 4 50 SILENCE. XLIV. Then it was my heart, affrighted, fled within me, like a roe When it hears the arrow hurtle from the Indian hunter's bow ; Till I stood beyond the sunset, heard the sounds of trouble cease, Felt the stars, God's silent whispers, throb through all the purple peace. SILENCE, 51 XLV. Somewhere on this moving planet, in the mist of years to be, In the silence, in the shadow, waits a loving heart for thee ; Somewhere in the beckoning heavens, where they know as they are known, Are the empty arms above thee that shall clasp thee for their own. 52 SILENCE. XLVI. Somewhere in the far-off silence, I shall feel a vanished hand, Somewhere I shall know a voice that now I cannot understand ; Somewhere ! Where art thou, oh spectre of illimitable Space ? Silent scene without a shadow, silent sphere without a place. SILENCE. XLVII. 53 Lonies there back no sound beyond us where the trackless sunbeam calls? Comes there back no wraith of music, melting through the crystal walls? Comes there back no bird, to lisp us of the great forevermore, With a leaf of Life, unwithered, plucked upon the farther shore ? 54 SILENCE. XLVIII. Why are they so strangely silent, are they more or are they less? Are their spirits lost forever in the vault of nothingness ? Why yon gates of pearl so fastened ? why yon stirless dead so dumb ? What has o'er those silent travelers in the march of Ages come ? SILENCE. 55 XLIX. Break, O, break this bitter silence ! speak unto me once again ! Tell me, shall I e'er behold thee ? tell me, do I wait in vain? O, my mother! O, my mother! Ship beneaped on foreign shore, Answerless the air around me, ansvverless forevermore. S6 SILENCE. L. Tell me, O yon wiHd, that plashes where the wild bird hath not flown, On what strand beyond the sunset shall the Soul's white sail be blown ? Brightly on the purple upland stream the banners of the sun. But the light of Nature fadeth, and another day is done. SILENCE. 57 LI. I remember, as the shadows darken coldly to the past, One, whose beauty could but linger, one, whose beauty could not last ; All the large orb of her spirit, glowing in its central sky, Slowly faded into sunset, through the twilight of her eye. S8 SILENCE. LII. Fashioned like a form in marble shone the lily of her face, Like a chapter from the Bible, it was read in every place ; Fixed in deep and serious sweetness, passionate with self-control, So she swept, a sweet enchantress, through the portal of my soul. SILENCE. 59 LIIL Every word she spake was fitted like a gesture to her hand, Every look at her was hke a visit to a foreign land ; She was fair, and still I count her as the mould of all her race; She was fair, and still I hold it least, I looked her in the face. fio SILENCE. LIV. Swiftly then I clasped her spirit closely in my larger thought, She to all my life was likened she to all my love was wrought; Soon for me that sweet face vanished, soon I saw that form depart, But her love becomes an angel in the heaven of my heart. SILENCE. 6l LV. Oft there rises one before me with a calm and constant eye, And she lifts her warning finger, points my darkened path on high ; O, invisible atonement! stretching o'er the gulfs of space, Spirit witnessing to Spirit, what to this were voice — were face 1 62 SILENCE. LVL Now, by that unchanging river and by that untelling sun, Where we used to walk together often when the day was done. Still the woodbine and the willow love in sisterhood to grow, But we parted, where their shadows wed our spirits long ago. SILENCE. 63 LVII. Waft her white soul up to heaven for a truce to sin and time, Waft her, winds, beyond the mountain, where the white cloud loves to climb ; Sweeps the soul with wing unbroken, bolted past, and massive wall. Not until the door was shut, that Christ stood in the banquet-hall. 64 SILENCE. LVIII. I shall ^^lumber, but it recks not where my lonely grave be made, Whether you and I together in a kindred ground are laid : I shall slumber, but it recks not who shall touch me in the gloom, Twins, that sleep within the cradle, are not twins within the tomb. SILENCE. 6s LIX. Soon this heart shall stop its beating, but its reddened dust shall rise; I shall live in other faces, I shall look in other eyes : Toss the winecup to the wassail, riot in the winds that rave. There is rest within the cradle, tnere is none within the grave. 66 SILENCE. LX. Wings are growing on the restless eagle ot the migrant soul, Soon its strong, imprisoned pinions shall bound up to God — its goal : Without wing-beat, without motion, pois- ing in the clear " I Am," Poising m the shadowy eyry of God's high colossal caim. SILENCE. 67 LXI. Thus it happened, as I wandered often on the whitened cliff, While the moon hung o'er the mountain, moored there like a crescent-skifT, That my memory shone within me o er the Ocean ot the years, And I saw through all my lifetime refluent waves of smiles and tears. 68 SILENCE. LXII. Like a breath upon a bugle, when its silver echo thrills All among the answering mountains, all about the whispering hills; Like a bird within a lorest, when it tweaks a little song, Till the whole deep wood is haunted with the music of a throng. SILENCE. 69 LXIII. All things yet shall work together, and so working orb in one, As the sun draws back its sunbeams, when the dial-day is done: All things yet shall gather roundly, and unite, and shape, and climb, Into Truth's great golden unit, in the ripe result of tune. 70 SILENCE. LXIV. Wisdom ripens unto silence as she grows more truly wise, And she wears a mellow sadness, in her heart, and in her eyes : Wisdom ripens unto silence, and the lesson she doth teach, Is that life is more than language, and that thought is more than speech. SILENCE. 71 LXV. What to me the proud traditions of a philosophic age, If they dwarf the growth of progress sneer- ing at a recent page? What to me the reverent teachings that I heard of in my youth, If they close the last inquiry of my spirit, " What is Truth ? " 72 SILENCE. LXVI. What is Truth? Thy jewelled finger points like light, with swerveless trend, From the Orient of knowledge to the path that hath no end : What is Truth ? Religion ponders, science bends her listening ears ; Through the fallow of the Future, break the seeds of silent years. SILENCE. 73 LXVII. \ was brought up at the altar of a mother's bended knee, I was sprinkled with the baptism of her tears that fell on me; I was born a sleeping orphan in a living mother's arms, Never life wove faster colors, never love wove closer charms. 74 SILENCE. LXVIII. Some one told Christ that his father and his mother stood outside, Turned he him to those that quickly brought the message and replied ; Say to them, Who is my mother .'' And upon his way he trod. Not of blood or bone begotten, I was born the child of God. SILENCE. 75 LXIX. Who am I that I should truckle, puppet to a low intent? On God's errand I enlisted, by God's spirit I was sent : Unseen hands of ordination upon all my life were laid. What to this is man's commission? In God's image men are made. 76 SILENCE. LXX. Faith is but an idle canvas, flapping on an idle mast, If it be not found within thee as the work of Hfe at last : Dotaged faith is but a fancy, he who waits that dream is lost, And his creed is but a millstone, and his God is but a ghost SILENCE. 77 LXXI. Very like the soul is sleeping soundly underneath the sod, Very like the soul is walking softly over- head with God ; Likelihood alone is certain. Who shall speak while God is dumb ? Credent doubt is but the shadow of the larger faith to come. 78 SILENCE. LXXII. Go to Silence. Win her secret, she shall teach thee how to speak Shape to which all else is shadow grows within thee clear, and bleak; Go to Silence. She shall teach thee ; ripe fruit hangs within thy reach, He alone hath clearly spoken, who hath learned this. Thought is Speech. SILENCE. 79 LXXIII. O thou strong and sacred silence, self- contained in self-control, O thou palliating silence, Sabbatn art thou of the soul : Lie like snow upon my virtues, lie like dust upon my faults. Silent when the world dethrones me, silent when the world exalts. 8o SILENCE. LXXIV. Tamper not with idle rumor, lest the truth appear to lie, Carve thy life to hilted silence, wrong shall fall on it, and die : Tamper not with accusation, harvest not what thou hast heard, Christ stood in the court of Pilate, uut he answered not a word. SILENCE. Si LXXV. Know thou this that there is nothing in the sounding lists of strife, That so fortifies thy manhood as the argument of life : ■ Listen not to old wives' fables," draw thyself from such apart, Keep the thought of life, like Mary, virgin to a virgin's heart. 6 83 SILENCE. LXXVI. Prattle is the children's portion, gossip is the prate of fools, Talk is but a blundering error, truth shall work with sharper tools : Shallow sentiments that bubble, bubble on the froth of thought, Clearer crystals of conception by the unaercurrent wrought. SILENCE. fi3 LXXVII. J^ouder than the blast of bugle, louder than the beat of drum. Sounds the clarion of conscience to a spirit overcome : Louder than the crashing boulder down its precipice doth roll, Slides the avalanche of sorrow, througli the winter of the soul. JJ4 SILENCE. LXXVIII. I have seen an eagle standing in the full- orbed sun at noon, I have seen a bird drift darkly up across the midnight moon ; I have seen a spirit passing over in the deepening eye, Too far off to hear its music, like the bird with;*" the sky. ' SILENCE. 8s LXXIX. What shall sorrow say to sorrow like to tears that fall unsaid ? For as life is to the living, so is death unto the dead : Sympathy shall sit before thee seven days mutely on the ground, Sorrow is a voice too tender to be drowned by ruder sound. 86 SILENCE. LXXX. It is well for us to suffer, it is well for us to wait, Well to swing like little children all our life on death's loose gate; Well to feel a mortal sickness wean the soul from earthly spell, Well to hear when all is over that sweet whisper, " All is well." SILENCE. 37 LXXXI. God hath set all things in being sliding out of sound and sight, Dropping down to mighty death dust in the marble Urn of night ; Blessed sacrament of Silence, holy shadow- sphere of rest. On thy scroll forever fadmg like a smoulder- ing palimpsest. . 88 SILENCE. LXXXII. Deepening in thy sad sweet stillness round the burning deeds of wrong, Hushing back the clamoring judgments of a vast unreckoned throng ; Soothing o'er the cry of sorrow, drying up the blood of pain, With thy finger on the lip of cares, that now no more complain. SILENCE. LXXXIIL Still across the Eden woodlands slide the birds in summer flock, Pawing horse, and tawny panther, cataract, and thunder-shock : ; Still the blow that Cain struck Abel falleth through the quivering air, On the head of every creature, echoing, Death — Death — everywhere. 90 SILENCE. LXXXIV. Buried cities, stranded navies, crashing battles, ravening storms. Echo in the thirsty ether, and with sounds the still air swarms : On its burial field of centuries quiet like the night doth fall, Silence! Keep thy vigilled bivouac, with the sweet stars over all. SILENCE. 91 LXXXV. Silence is the voice of Spirit, silence is the voice of God, Since he said ; "go, preach my gospel " he hath never spoken word: Many a power since then hath perished, many a charm hath lost its spell, But that ever silent Spirit still on earth is ruling well. 92 SILENCE. LXXXVI. " There was silence up in heaven for the space of half an hour," And the angel held his harp-string standing in the jasper door: And the lights blew out in darkness, strangely, sadly, one by one. And the sun stood still on Gibeon, and the moon on Ajalon. SILENCE, 9j LXXXVII. " It is finished ! " " Father, hear me ! " " Why hast Thou forsaken me ? " But around him Silence gathered, silently, how silently : " If it were not so I would have told you," sounds upon my ear, Splendid silence, thou hast told me more than souls in heaven may hear. 94 SILENCE. LXXXVIII. Subtle secret without solving since the years were in their youth, Staring like the Sphinx forever from the trackless sands of truth: Bright Apocalypse of vision dark Apoc- rypha of cloud. Silence something more than stil!ric*'3 thinking to itself aloud. J SILENCE. 95 LXXXIX. Still I wandered for the last time on the sliding beach, apart, Solacing the widening lesion of an unre- turning heart : Saw the creamy sail dip brightly far behind the silver wave, Saw the moon drop down the heaven to its coral-coffined grave. 96 SILENCE. xc. Dips the white sail of my spirit down the trending sea of death, Silent sea without a ripple, save the ripple of a breath : Moving out for pass or shipwreck, without signal, gun, or light. To the phantom-pilot rounding on the misty Reef of night. SILENCE. 97 XCI. Still my faith will take the hand of him whose form I cannot trace, As I take your hand in darkness though I cannot see your face : Sit down by the side of God in heaven with rapture deep and wild, As I sat down by my mother when I was a little child. g8 SILENCE. I XCII. Softly like a meteor falling drops the tear that Jesus wept, On the human tear beneath it, in the heart that Christ hath kept: Creature in Creator meeting, crystallizing into one, As stalactite meets stalagmite, standing pillared where they run. SILENCE. 99 XCIII. Steals a rich and dreamy sombre on the landscape, overworn, Comes a crimson on the aster, comes a purple on the thorn ; Shadows, lost like orphan-children, scattered lie on lake and lea, Many a wan and weary spirit longs for silence, and for thee. too SILENCE. XCIV. On the doorstep of my dwelling leaves are falling like a prayer, Little tracts from heaven, left there by the angel of the air : Read the leaf and learn the lesson, silent Voice to you and me, Like the leaf 1 too shall wither, with the leaf 1 soon shall be. SILENCE. loi XCV. Fall around me feathery silence, fall around me as I faint, Heaven's casement-curtains closing softly round the dying saint : Shades of faintness coming o'er me, as Death's iron gates unroll. With the famine in my face, but with the harvest in my soul. I02 SILENCE. XCVI. Turn me on my fevered pillow, for the night is turning too, I will bolster up my courage, I will see what death can do : Death whose spectre stalks so coldly, what is death? (we do thee wrong) But life stopping in its singing, to take breath for endless song. SILENCE. 103 XCVII. Do not weep. I will not leave you. i will never, never change, I will try, but if I cannot speak, you must not think it strange ; Don't you think God's everlasting arms are put round you and me? And I know somewhere between them, that the Gate of heaven will be. I04 SILENCE. XCVIII. At the center of Creation lies a s|:)ot of ceaseless rest, Where the silent spirit broodeth like a dove upon its nest : Round it runs the deep horizon in its golden cjuiet curled, Round it at the wheel of Motion spins the fashion of the world. SILENCE. XQi XCIX. Noiselessly thy gates swing open for theb bars are made of I'ght, SwiriGinfT on the raven darkness from the outer-wall of night ; Crystal city of the Silent, built beyond the sounds of sin, Lift afar your swarming gateways let. tht silent myriads in. I06 SILENCE. c. Ever after mortal effort, ever after mortal pains, Something to which light is shadow, some- thing unexpressed remains: Ever after human question, ever after human quest. Something farther than the farthest, some- thing better than the Best. SILENCE. 107 CI. God shall keep the growing secret of the silence in his heart. Through the crescent years of Knowledge, through the golden days of Art: Silent heart whose birthless beatings throb so softly in their place, That God cannot hear himself, in all the continent of Space. ST. PAUL. A beautiful little book by the same author as this one, that has shared so large a sale, and whose merit has been appreciated by thousands. Read the testimonials on fourth page. St. Paul is a neat little volume, bevel boards, muslin, gilt edge. F»RicE, 50 Cents. MAILED FREE ON RECEIPT OF PRICE. Address any Bookseller or the Publisher, D. S. HOLMES, 450 Bedford Avenue, BROOKLYN, N". Y. TWO CITIES. A BEAUTIFUL POEM IN ONE VOLUME. The second publication of the same author, published since " Silence," a selection of which appears at length in LongfelloM^'s " Poems of Places." ' This poem has shared the same liter- ary respect so universally shown to "Silence." Bound in uniform style with " Silence." In muslin, plain, $1.00; Illustrated, full gilt, bevel boards, $2.00. EITHER SENT FREE ON RECEIPT OF PRICE. Address the Publisher^ D. S. HOLMES, 450 Bedford Avenue. BROOKLYN, N. Y. Also sold by the Trade generally. JUL 22 1904