A Century of Emblems

CUPID REFORMED.

Love trained is Heaven gained.

You say he wounds both good and naught,
Both old and young in wanton play,
Was never brat so badly taught,—
There, take his feathery stings away:

Now send him to the Sunday school,
With decent frock o'er shoulders small,
There let him learn the golden rule,
He'll prove a cherub after all.

COLOSSAL HAND IN MUSEUM AT ROME,

A.D. 1856.

This hand colossal from Colossus torn,
This idol fragment pedestal'd on high,
Fulfils a nobler purpose now forlorn,
Than in the pomp of its integrity.

It heartens love, that finger pointing ever
Up towards the heavenly many-mansioned home,
Where members of one Lord no creed shall sever,
Though sundered here, alas! in papal Rome.

PURITANS AND RITUALISTS.

In robes symbolical, through incensed air,
Some pray in temples amid lights and hues,
While some in tabernacles simply bare,
Beauty's bright aid mistrustingly refuse.

Pray, Christians, as ye will, by nurture swayed,
Habit, tradition, phantasy, or youth—
With faith is all; our Lord hath only said,
He will be served in spirit and in truth.

But, brethren of a brotherhood divine,
So dear to Him on whom ye daily call,
Why darken with the dust of strife malign
The sunshine of that love that blesses all?

THE BEACON CREST.

To the Memory of Spencer, Marquis of Northampton.

A blessing on the beacon's name,
Our guide across the midnight sea;
Who bears for crest that guardian flame,
Himself a burning light should be.

And such thou wert, my patron dear,
Thy beams were justice, faith, and love;
Ah! may we by their memory steer,
Since thou art with the lights above.

ROOKS.

O rooks, I love to watch through quiet eve
Your mystic circles in the golden air,
And in your solemn monotones conceive
The instinct of a universal prayer.

Welcome then, wide-winged blackamoors, who poise
Inverted wigwams in the swaying heights,
And cheer the windy March with clanging noise,
Long may fate spare your labour and delights,

Toilers and teachers strenuously good
Like you I see life's gusty hours defy,
Like you from earth they win their daily food,
Like you they build their hopes and homes on high.

UNA.

We thank thee, gentle Spenser, for thy song
Of Una, virgin Una brave and sweet,
Whose eloquence subdued the Satyr throng,
And bowed the tearful monsters to her feet.

Nor song alone but prophecy was thine,
Forecasting many a Una wise and mild,
Who spends her loving life in toil divine,
Taming street Arabs petulant and wild,

The gutter offspring of a race obscure;
Cheerly to these within their noxious dens
The Cross she brings, nor doubts its shining pure
Grace through the gloom and mercy will dispense,

And though to scare the ribald from her way
No guardian lion by her side doth move,
The shield of faith she bears hath sovran sway,
And the strong spirit of all-conquering love.

LIGHTHOUSE BUILT LIKE A CHURCH.

That tapering Pharos pierces night
As would a church bell tower;
And far and wide its streaming light
Symbols the Church's power,

Which flinging many a radiant clue
O'er life's bewildering foam,
Guides weary souls the darkness through
To their celestial home.

CHURCH IN THE VALLEY.

A tree of life from Eden far,
O lowly church, you stand!
So stood the Lord whose sign you are,
And blessed the barren land.

A tower of strength you show to all
Who recognise His grace:
The tender lights which round you fall
Write heaven upon your face.

Your bells down in the hollow lea
Cry as from sheltering nest,
"Come all ye labouring men to Me,
And I will give you rest."

CHURCH BELLS AND SHEEP BELLS.

The sheep bells tinkle from the knoll
Faintly and sweet 'twixt far and near,
But hark! at hand the funeral toll
How solemn and how clear

Each wafts a hint to faithful love
Of ever-mingling wealth and woe,
The energy of life above,
The requiem below.

Now sweeps the wholesome evening breath
As tho' a voice from Heaven should fall,
Blending the notes of life and death,
And harmonising all.

THE BROOK AT SUNSET.

Could Pison or Pactolus old
Eclipse our little stream to-night?
What grape might yield a glossier gold,
Such amber streams,
And ruby gleams
Fringed all along with dazzling light
That ripples down thro' emerald meadows bright?

Brief pageant! minions of the sun,
With him the hues in gloom decline;
Then think on the Eternal One,
Sun of the soul,
At whose control
Outpours the living light divine,
The grace that turns life's water into wine.

THE CHURCH TOWER AT SUNSET.

See with a radiance noontide never gave
Our little tower fling back the evening gold!
Like to a sunlit rose upon a grave,
Like to a star upon the midnight wave,
When all of earth that was so bright and brave
Is waning into dusk obscure and cold.

So in the nightfall of that dread decay
When worlds their borrowed lustre shall resign,
They who o'erlooked her on her lowly way,
They who despised her in her robes of clay,
Shall in the glory of her opening day
Bow down abashed before the Bride Divine.

SUMMER SUNSET.

I saw the summer sunset die
On golden clouds beyond the rain,
I saw the dying Christian lie
Bright-eyed amid a weeping train.

I read on evening's roseate pile
Hope of a lovelier day than this;
I hailed in that expiring smile
Assurance of eternal bliss.

THE COMET.

Lone one, wilt thou no signal pass,
Thy mission to declare,
Whether a world-destroying mass,
Or flame-flower of Elysian grass,
Or seraph's burning hair?

Or may be torch from hearth unknown
Upheld by powers unseen,
Each pacing their appointed zone
In mute procession one by one
A thousand years between.

Let Time shake out my dribbling sand;
Who would not die to see
The eternal treasures of a land
Whose glories shine above a strand
With waifs and strays like thee!

THE ROCKET.

The child who sees the rocket fire
Its arch of stars o'er tower and plain,
Laments to find them all expire,
And but a worthless wand remain.

And such with all its soaring sound
Is eloquence despite of art,
Whose flashy flights the ear astound,
But leave no light within the heart.

THE GIRANDOLA AT ROME.

O suns! O founts! O domes of fire,
O palaces of seraph kings!
O shining ones who all aspire
To fan the stars with flaming wings!

My soul, what gracious glorious power
To hue and radiance God hath given!
I felt as though for half-an-hour
I stood before the gates of Heaven.

Now all is dark, and so I bring
With joy my splendid memories home,
And think of heaven whene'er I sing
The bright Girandola of Rome.

THE MOON

On Earth disowned, in Heaven enthroned.

When first behind the woods arose
The moon with red distempered fire,
We feared beyond the hilly close
Some conflagration dire.

But see her now enthroned on high,
Clear of the thwarting trees,
She glows upon the watchet sky
God's seal of golden peace.

So spirits rich in grace divine
Misunderstood, distorted, here,
Shall with unsullied lustre shine
In Heaven's congenial sphere.

HEAVEN LIGHTS AND HOME LIGHTS.

Pale broken lights that close our heavenly view
Caressing eve ere weeps the twilight dew,
Tender ye are as love smiles shining through
Life's parting hour: adieu, dark day, adieu!

Ye cheer our footsteps on the wintry way,
Kind hints from Heaven when earth is cold and gray.
Heaven is our home; and we but wanderers through
This glimmering vale: adieu, dark day, adieu!

Short is our journey now, nor steep the road;
Sound still our limbs and light our daily load;
Chill night we leave behind, and hasten through
Home's glowing door: adieu, dark day, adieu!

Dear emblems, these we cherish till the last
Deep nightfall on our brows the shadow cast,
And we by faith see glory shining through
The door of death: adieu, dark day, adieu!

CLOUD EMBLEM.

Beneath the vault of yonder clouds
A lake of sunshine lies,
The rent between those shifting shrouds
Reveals it to our eyes.

The glory of its amber light
Clasped by an opal shore,
Melts me to joy I cannot write
And makes my heart adore.

I feel as if the great white throne
Rose dazzling there above,
Nor inaccessible its zone
To those that feel and love.

Beneath, the elders all bow down
Each in his radiant stole—
Each in the lake hath cast his crown,
The homage of a soul.

Emblem of Heaven! sublime device!
No air can thee retain:
Read in the Word, the Heart, the Skies,
Thee we shall meet again.

COTTAGE SMOKE ASCENDING.

The silent smoke in column true
Streams from the poor man's hearth,
Right up into the ether blue,
Uniting heaven and earth.

From lowly hearts thus quiet prayer
Sends up a golden cord
To God's right hand, uniting there
The labourer to his Lord.

SMOKE NOT ASCENDING.

The lolling smoke which clouds the noonday skies
And mars the outline of our orchard trees,
Smirching the buds and blossoms, here supplies
An emblem of the gross ignoble ease

Of apathetic souls, which lost in sloth,
Lifting no thought to heaven, with sordid care
Infect young hearts around, and check the growth
Of aspirations craving purer air.

THE CARELESS SHEPHERD.

How like the world these flowery leas
On which fantastic shadows play;
And, lo, the shepherd sleeps at ease,
And sheep like sinners go astray.

The night mist broods o'er yonder mere;
Wake, slumberer! lest thy Lord complain
When the dim folding hour draws near,
And thou shalt seek His lambs in vain.

CHILD AND SNAKES.

Haste! ere the simple infant die
Which, lured by glistening strakes,
With tender fingers would untie
That knot of tangled snakes.

Thus man with a perverted skill,
In his own darkness blind,
The mystic coil of Fate and Will
Seeks madly to unbind.

Guide Thou aright his questing zeal,
Teach him in Thy bright word
Content Thy perfect love to feel,
O Spirit of the Lord!

INNOCENCE.

We children shuddered when we heard
Of many a pretty painted bird
Held by the glittering eye
Of cruel serpent, fold on fold,
Close gliding, till with blood run cold
The victim dropt to die.

But we revived when friends would say
How rustling leaf, or broken spray
Might foil the poisonous snare,
And how the bird, untranced and free,
Shoots like a meteor from the tree
Into the azure air.

So innocence may be beguiled
By sensual spirits masked and mild,
And feigning pure delight;
But dropt the mask,—on wings of prayer,
O'er mists of earth and clouds of air
She gains her holy height.

HILARION.

See at Hilarion's saintly sign
The serpent mount the pyre,
And all its scaly strength resign
To the consuming fire.

Such is the miracle of Grace
Which on the pilgrim's way,
Ordains that hell's malignant race
Should work its own decay.

Let but the faithful suppliant urge,
God will His fire impart,
The serpent coils of sin to purge
From every willing heart.

THE FOOLISH COLT.

This discontented colt, full fed,
Aweary of its pasture rich,
Half dislocates its brainless head
For nettles in the dusty ditch.

Skills not the amplest range of joys,
What we have not is our desire;
This proved amid his golden toys
The little prince who screamed for mire.

TROUTS.

With poising fins against the stream,
Their heads the shadowy troutlings set,
Though vain their patient instincts seem,
For chilly April's mirrored gleam
No fly disturbs as yet.

And so against ill-fashion's tide,
With faithful wills untaught to swerve,
Though cold philosophy deride,
The saints hold on and calmly bide
His season whom they serve.

THE PLATYPUS.

A triple monster here is shown
Which old Chimera mocks,
Bird, fish, and quadruped in one,
The duck-billed Paradox.

Emblem of him whose every wish
Concentres in a feast;
Like duck he gobbles, drinks like fish,
And proves himself a beast.

THE RAPE OF PROSERPINE.

Sweet Proserpine you here behold
Far from her corn-crowned mother's care,
Dragged down by Pluto, swart and old,
His dismal throne to share.

She figures many a one the prey
Of passion's ill-resisted powers,
Who, spurning all that love can say,
Seeks but for earthly flowers.

Ere these you gather, maiden mine,
With faith's pure lilies wreathe your soul,
Then fear not any art malign
Shall work thee mortal dole.

GIRLS RUNNING.

As yet they make of life a dancing race,
Rarely they pause to pant, still less to think;
They have not met the dark ones face to face,
They have not shuddered o'er the ghastly brink.
Life's holiday is theirs;—how sweet to hear
The gay young laughter rippling down the wind;
Ah! who would breathe the name of care or fear,
Or hint that fortune could be less than kind!

They skim gazelle-like pitfalls set in flowers,
Too glib their ankles for the serpent's bite,
Yet on and on they rush to meet the hours
Of dimness and perplexity and night.
Yes, each must suffer, and some too will fall,
But not for aye need sin and grief o'ercast;
May He who knows His lambs, and loves them all,
To His own fold ingather them at last.

THE SIREN.

A Siren on a rocky isle,
A youth upon the cliff is seen;
She tries his fancy to beguile,
The deep dark water moans between.

"Gentle thou art," he saith, "and fair,
Yet nought thine azure eyes avail,
Amid the golden coils of hair,
Gleams weirdly forth the fish's tail."

Yet still he gazed, she smiled the more:
She sang a wondrous witching strain;
He groaned and sighed, he laughed and swore,
Then plunged into the deadly main.

THE STRANGE CHOICE.

How grim the woods, the tower how pale;
The landscape colourless and cold,
While all the hovel foul and frail,
The ragged thatch and battered sail,
Are gorgeous in the sunset gold!

Such seems the girl's capricious part,
Who flouts the noble, wise, and true,
And wastes her loving burning heart,
And glorifies with doting art
The basest of her courting crew.

THE PUDDLE.

This shallow pool which ruffling in the breeze,
Spurts gold and azure at the morning sun,
Ere night will be a blot of slimy lees,
By the absorbing heat and wind foredone.

Thou dost with glittering surface, puddle fine,
Of fools and prodigals the fate pourtray,
Who in the transient flattery swell and shine
Of knaves who suck their substance all away.

THE MIRY LANE.

We looked o'er the gate on a wearisome lane,
Tracked afar by cold gleams of the new fallen rain;
An emblem it seemed of that oft-trodden road,
The sorrowful life, and its final abode,
With its mire of transgressions and furrows of care,
Its pools full of tears, and its sloughs of despair;
And we sighed to perceive it was lost to our view
Amid desolate wilds and vague ridges of blue.
But there flamed up the welkin a ravishing change,
That engulphed in its splendours the misty cloud range,
And the path that we shuddered at caught the sky's fire,
The pools flushed in silver, and gold was its mire;
And we smiled in our hearts when we saw that it led
Right into the sunset 'neath streamers of red.
Faith's path will reflect the celestial glow,
And bring heaven to the heart wheresoever we go;
Deep and rough it may be, yet they sing on the road
Who know that it ends in the welcome of God.

THE DOUBTFUL RACE.

Beyond the hill his vessel lies,
Would he were safe upon its side,
Who now through brake and thicket flies
To gain the ferry in his stride.

Loitering at first, though well he knew
That time and tide for no man wait,
He dreads to think what ills pursue
The idle seaman all too late.

Nelson, himself a nation's power,
Victor of hosts in every clime,
Stood ready aye before the hour,
Nor ever deigned to race with time.

THE SLIDING BOY.

He shouts, he slides, my rosy boy,
A moment, then comes rattling down;
Youth's type is here, a slippery joy,
A sudden fall, a bleeding crown.

He rises, brushing off the tears
In silence as he glides again;
And typifies through all our years
The soberer course which follows pain.

YOUTH.

That thoughtless child of sport and truth,
I cannot with reproaches stone,
O loving, laughing, trusting youth,
For ever, ever gone!

Sin taints, alas! the old and young,
And thou hast duly borne the rod;
And often for a venial wrong,
Thou sweetest gift of God.

I love to muse upon the boy,
And his sublime aspirings trace,
When hand in hand with Hope and Joy
He challenged Fate to race.

Still in my heart I fain would bear
Some flowers of his beyond the tomb,
Perhaps the crystal waters there
May renovate their bloom.

THE FERRY OF DEATH.

When o'er death's ferry youth departs,
Upbraid not his reluctant moan;
Think of the loved and loving hearts
He leaves, to cross the gulf alone.

But when life's sun is low i' the west,
Calmly we may our turn abide,
For most of those we love the best
Are shining on the other side.

THE FORGE AND THE SUNSET.

The sunset pales along the height,
The smithy flashes free below,
And ever in the thickening light
The forge emits a lustier glow.

As Faith declines, with grosser flame
Earth's passion thus our being fills;
And Heaven becomes a fading name,
A glimmer o'er death's shadowy hills.

THE UNDERGROWTH.

In yonder grove the woodman's bill
The pillared trees by scores hath laid,
But Nature every gap will fill,
The springing undergrowth will spread,
And we shall half forget the ill,
So rich the greenery overhead.

Thus Death, the hewer, down may smite
Into the depths where all must blend,
The dearest from our daily sight,
Yet love shall never lack a friend;
Still proffer us the young and bright
Such kindly escort to the end.

A Century of Emblems

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