Poems

Welcome unto this dungeon-house, thy home!
Welcome to all the woe this life awards thee!

Upon thy forehead yet the badge of sin
Hath worn no trace; thou look’st as though from heaven,
But pain, and guilt, and misery lie within;
Poor exile! from thy happy birth-land driven.

Thine eyes are sealed by the soft hand of sleep,
And like unruffled waves thy slumber seems;
The time’s at hand when thou must wake to weep,
Or sleeping, walk a restless world of dreams.

How oft, as day by day life’s burthen lies
Heavier and darker on thy fainting soul,
Wilt thou towards heaven turn thy weary eyes,
And long in bitterness to reach the goal!

How oft wilt thou, upon Time’s flinty road,
Gaze at thy far off early days, in vain;
Weeping, how oft wilt thou cast down thy load,
And curse and pray, then take it up again!

How many times shall the fiend Hope, extend
Her poisonous chalice to thy thirsty lips!
How oft shall Love its withering sunshine lend,
To leave thee only a more dark eclipse!

How oft shall Sorrow strain thee in her grasp,—
How oft shall Sin laugh at thine overthrow—
How oft shall Doubt, Despair, and Anguish clasp
Their knotted arms around thine aching brow!

Oh, living soul, hail to thy narrow cage!
Spirit of light, hail to thy gloomy cave!
Welcome to longing youth, to loathing age,
Welcome, immortal! welcome to the grave!

A RETROSPECT

Life wanes, and the bright sunlight of our youth
Sets o’er the mountain-tops, where once Hope stood.
Oh, Innocence! oh, Trustfulness! oh, Truth!
Where are ye all, white-handed sisterhood,
Who with me on my way did walk along,
Singing sweet scraps of that immortal song
That’s hymn’d in Heaven, but hath no echo here?
Are ye departing, fellows bright and clear,
Of the young spirit, when it first alights
Upon this earth of darkness and dismay?
Farewell! fair children of th’ eternal day,
Blossoms of that far land where fall no blights,
Sweet kindred of my exiled soul, farewell!
Here I must wander, here ye may not dwell;
Back to your home beyond the founts of light
I see ye fly, and I am wrapt in night!

AN INVOCATION

Spirit, bright spirit! from thy narrow cell
Answer me! answer me! oh, let me hear
Thy voice, and know that thou indeed art near!
That from the bonds in which thou’rt forced to dwell
Thou hast not broken free, thou art not fled,
Thou hast not pined away, thou art not dead.
Speak to me through thy prison bars; my life
With all things round, is one eternal strife,
’Mid whose wild din I pause to hear thy voice;
Speak to me, look on me, thou born of light!
That I may know thou’rt with me, and rejoice.
Shall not this weary warfare pass away?
Shall there not come a better, brighter day?
Shall not thy chain and mine be broken quite,
And thou to heaven spring,
With thine immortal wing,
And I, still following,
With steps that do not tire,
Reach my desire,
And to thy worship bring
Some worthy offering?
Oh! let but these dark days be once gone by,
And thou, unwilling captive, that dost strain,
With tiptoe longing, vainly, towards the sky,
O’er the whole kingdom of my life shalt reign.
But, while I’m doomed beneath the yoke to bow,
Of sordid toiling in these caverns drear,
Oh, look upon me sometimes with thy brow
Of shining brightness; sometimes let me hear
Thy blessed voice, singing the songs of Heaven,
Whence thou and I, together have been driven;
Give me assurance that thou still art nigh,
Lest I sink down beneath my load, and die!

A LAMENT FOR THE WISSAHICCON

The waterfall is calling me
With its merry gleesome flow,
And the green boughs are beckoning me,
To where the wild flowers grow: