English

But how shall this be gained? By fervent prayer —
" In season, out of season, in prayer " be
" Instant, " th' Apostle saith. First station there —
In yon bright mansion of eternity,
Thy heart's chief loves, and thou wilt quickly see,
With spiritual eye, far clearer than on earth,
To the natural eye — with more reality —
Than to that eye those forms which here have birth,
Objects surpassing man's weak powers to body forth!

Yes, could I wish for others or myself:
It were, that, pierced the veil 'twixt thee and me;
My God, I, sacrificing earthly pelf,
Might view, as the supreme reality,
Thee, and the world of spirits. Who that's free
Would wish to be imprison'd? Who that could
Carry his thoughts to all eternity,
In glad progression, forward, would be mewed
In seventy years brief space of ailing flesh and blood?

Yes, I rejoice in spirit, when I think
On this tried panacea: 'tis a balm
Which to the depth of deepest wounds may sink,
Which the most troubled soul may quickly calm.
Ask it of God then, ask it! 'Tis an alm
He freely doth vouchsafe: but oh, how rare
The privilege to sing a grateful psalm
For its bequest, save by those, who, in prayer,
Bankrupt in earthly hope, turn heavenward in despair! —

Oh God, give me, and I will never crave
An earthly joy; that peace which passeth words;
That peace whose smile can hover o'er the grave,
That peace whose inner wealth can shame all hoards
Of bliss terrestrial; that peace which affords
Pity to other's sorrow; and which feels,
E'en while it braves the edge of hostile swords,
And binds all human wounds, and while it kneels
E'en by the bed of death, a blessedness which heals.

" There is a bliss the eye hath never seen,
" There is a bliss the ear hath never heard,
" Nor hath it ever comprehended been: —
" And though on man's heart 'tis sometimes conferred, "
Never except on him whose heart is stirred
With spiritual communion: he who drinks
Of that immortal fount, to him preferred
Is that pure peace, which while it deeply sinks
Into our heart of hearts, speech from its utterance shrinks.

Passion, love, adoration! Fine the links
That in progressive process join these three,
Cursed is that soul, which gifted, basely sinks
From last of these to that first named! So he,
Who is so wise, if he defeated be
In passion, and in love, to raise his thought
In adoration, from th' idolatry
Of passion, and of love, will soon be taught
That superhuman bliss is by the latter brought.

As to Religion's cause, one well might hope,
Rather to gain th' idolater, than one
Who loves in atheistic gloom to mope: —
So may we rather hope he may be won
To love his God, him whom the fervid sun
Of love hath fevered, whose still earnest eye
Some outward idol still is fixed upon,
Than him in self-involved captivity,
Who thinks he's free since self doth doom his slavery.

The principle of love must be implanted,
Or e'en divine love ne'er will take its root:
Small hope for those who're of this instinct scanted:
Small hope for those involved in low pursuit
Of interest or ambition! Who with brute,
And earthward gaze see nought beyond themselves:
But hope, ye mourners, who with anguish mute,
See each foundation, like a train of elves,
Vanish, which human skill unprofitably delves.

So far with tolerance th' instinct do I see
Which leads the spirit with devotion fond,
To seek in youth for perfect sympathy
In other human hearts, that few this bond
Who have not sought, few who have never conued
With weak idolatry, a human face,
And found how vain were human loves; beyond
Were ever led to go: triumphs of grace
Are oftenest gained by souls driven from love's earthly race.

There cannot be a mood of mind so dim,
So evanescent, imperceptible,
But it is clear as noon of day to him;
He sees thy rising cares or ere they fill
Thine eyes with tears; and if with passive will
Thou at his foot-stool meekly wilt fall down
The tumult of thy anguish he will still,
And all the contrite tears thy cheek which drown
Will add a living gem to faith's immortal crown.