Extract From A Poem

DELIVERED AT THE DEPARTURE OF THE SENIOR CLASS OF YALE COLLEGE, IN 1826.

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We shall go forth together. There will come Alike the day of trial unto all, And the rude world will buffet us alike. Temptation hath a music for all ears; And mad ambition trumpeteth to all; And the ungovernable thought within, Will be in every bosom eloquent; But when the silence and the calm come on, And the high seal of character is set, We shall not all be similar. The scale Of being is a graduated thing; And deeper than the vanities of power, Or the vain pomp of glory, there is writ Gradation, in its hidden characters. The pathway to the grave may be the same, And the proud man shall tread it, and the low, With his bowed head, shall bear him company. Decay will make no difference, and death With his cold hand shall make no difference; And there will be no precedence of power, In waking at the coming trump of God; But in the temper of the invisible mind, The godlike and undying intellect, There are distinctions that will live in heaven, When time is a forgotten circumstance! The elevated brow of kings will lose The impress of regalia, and the slave Will wear his immortality as free, Beside the chrystal waters; but the depth Of glory in the attributes of God, Will measure the capacities of mind; And as the angels differ, will the ken Of gifted spirits glorify him more. It is life’s mystery. The soul of man Createth its own destiny of power; And as the trial is intenser here, His being hath a nobler strength in heaven.

What is its earthly victory? Press on! For it hath tempted angels. Yet press on! For it shall make you mighty among men; And from the eyrie of your eagle thought, Ye shall look down on monarchs. Oh! press on! For the high ones and powerful shall come To do you reverence; and the beautiful Will know the purer language of your brow, And read it like a talisman of love! Press on! for it is godlike to unloose The spirit, and forget yourself in thought; Bending a pinion for the deeper sky, And in the very fetters of your flesh, Mating with the pure essences of heaven! Press on!--‘for in the grave there is no work, And no device.’--Press on! while yet ye may!

So lives the soul of man. It is the thirst Of his immortal nature; and he rends The rock for secret fountains, and pursues The path of the illimitable wind For mysteries--and this is human pride! There is a gentler element, and man May breathe it with a calm, unruffled soul, And drink its living waters till his heart Is pure--and this is human happiness! Its secret and its evidence are writ In the broad book of nature. ’Tis to have Attentive and believing faculties; To go abroad rejoicing in the joy Of beautiful and well created things; To love the voice of waters, and the sheen Of silver fountains leaping to the sea; To thrill with the rich melody of birds, Living their life of music; to be glad In the gay sunshine, reverent in the storm; To see a beauty in the stirring leaf, And find calm thoughts beneath the whispering tree; To see, and hear, and breathe the evidence Of God’s deep wisdom in the natural world! It is to linger on ‘the magic face Of human beauty,’ and from light and shade Alike to draw a lesson; ’tis to love The cadences of voices that are tuned By majesty and purity of thought; To gaze on woman’s beauty, as a star Whose purity and distance make it fair; And in the gush of music to be still, And feel that it has purified the heart! It is to love all virtue for itself, All nature for its breathing evidence; And when the eye hath seen, and when the ear Hath drunk the beautiful harmony of the world, It is to humble the imperfect mind, And lean the broken spirit upon God!

Thus would I, at this parting hour, be true To the great moral of a passing world. Thus would I--like a just departing child, Who lingers on the threshold of his home-- Remember the best lesson of the lips Whose accents shall be with us now, no more! It is the gift of sorrow to be pure; And I would press the lesson; that when life Hath half become a weariness, and hope Thirsts for serener waters, go abroad Upon the paths of nature, and when all Its voices whisper, and its silent things Are breathing the deep beauty of the world, Kneel at its simple altar, and the God Who hath the living waters, shall be there!

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NOTES.

PAGE 32, LINES 12 and 13.

‘And a soft landscape given me by one Who has a noble nature.’

The gentleman who gave me the picture of ‘Stirling Castle’ will not be surprised that so pleasant a gift holds a place in my memory.

PAGE 33, LINES 9 and 10.

‘one Whose ancestors had been Castilia’s kings.’

This striking anecdote is related of Ponce de Leon, in, I think, ‘A Visit to Spain,’ by Michael Quin.

PAGE 47, LINE 12.

‘The glitter of the steeples on the hills.’

Every one who has made the passage of the St Lawrence, will remember the beautiful effect of the steeples on the shore. Occupying almost every swell on the low interval, and tiled universally with tin, they glisten in the moonlight like turrets of silver. It is even in that majestic scenery an impressive and delightful feature.

PAGE 84, LINE 4.

‘Child of the sunny brow.’

Perhaps my book will be forgotten before the child, to whom these lines are addressed, is old enough to understand them; but even if it is not, there is little harm in saying that she is at this time the most beautiful human being I ever saw. Her ‘thousand winning ways’ and graceful motion are before me now like a sweet dream, and I shall never forget them. May God bless her!

PAGE 87, LINE 14.

‘As dew of the night’s quietness comes down.’

If my readers have neglected meteorology as long as I did, the younger part of them at least, would like to be told that the dew never falls except on a still night.

A number of typographical errors have been corrected silently.

Cover image was created by the transcriber and is in the public domain.