In the changed world below; and finds alone
Their graven semblance in the eternal stone.
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The pines were dark on Ramoth hill,
The blossoms in the sweet May windWere falling like the snow.The blossoms drifted at our feet,The orchard birds sang clear;The sweetest and the saddest dayIt seemed of all the year.For, more to me than birds or flowers,My playmate left her home,And took with her the laughing spring,The music and the bloom.She kissed the lips of…
I would not sin, in this half-playful strain,–
Of the enforced leisure of slow pain,–Against the pure ideal which has drawnMy feet to follow its far-shining gleam.A simple plot is mine: legends and runesOf credulous days, old fancies that have lainSilent, from boyhood taking voice again,Warmed into life once more, even as the tunesThat, frozen in the fabled hunting-horn,Thawed into sound:–a winter fireside…
But what avail inadequate words to reach
Blinded and weak, to point and lead the way,Or solve the mystery in familiar speech?Yet, if it be that something not thy own,Some shadow of the Thought to which our schemes,Creeds, cult, and ritual are at best but dreams,Is even to thy unworthiness made known,Thou mayst not hide what yet thou shouldst not dareTo utter…
Call him not heretic whose works attest
Whatever in love’s name is truly doneTo free the bound and lift the fallen oneIs done to Christ. Whoso in deed and wordIs not against Him labours for our Lord.When he, who, sad and weary, longing soreFor love’s sweet service sought the sisters’ doorOne saw the heavenly, one the human guestBut who shall say which…
Type of two mighty continents!–combining
Of Asian song and prophecy,–the shiningOf Orient splendors over Northern snow!Who shall receive him? Who, unblushing, speakWelcome to him, who, while he strove to breakThe Austrian yoke from Magyar necks, smote offAt the same blow the fetters of the serf,Rearing the altar of his FatherlandOn the firm base of freedom, and therebyLifting to Heaven a…
A STRONG and mighty Angel,
The cross in blended red and blueUpon his mantle white!Two captives by him kneeling,Each on his broken chain,Sang praise to God who raisethThe dead to life again!Dropping his cross-wrought mantle,‘Wear this,’ the Angel said;‘Take thou, O Freedom’s priest, its sign, —The white, the blue, and red.’Then rose up John de MathaIn the strength the Lord…