Invocation
Once thou wast ever nigh me: now so long
We have been parted, that I seek thee far,
And find thee not. Once ever to my song
Thou hastedst; in thy flight, as lambent star
Shot from the highest sphere:
And with thee, to my ear
Came heartening tones, that kindly drew me on,
Until, as self-evolved, my lay was done.
Yet I would win thee still
To dwell beside me, as in earlier days.
That time of flowers is gone; its memory stays,
And often will its dreams my spirit fill
With youth's full joy. Where shall I seek thee now?
Is it upon the sky-crowned mountain's brow?
Or sit'st thou rather by the sounding shore, —
Fit music for thee in its rush and roar, —
Or roamest free the desert's boundless plain?
O, lead me even so far, to find thee once again!
A storm rose 'mid the gloom of yesternight;
And as it just o'ertopped the distant hill,
Forked lightnings played in jets of starry light,
And yet the hushed and slumbrous air was still:
But as the cloud rolled, billowy, up the sky,
The flash soon heralded the bursting peal;
'Mid the wild conflict, then I felt me high
Uplifted to thee, for I well could feel,
Thou with the winds and thunders hadst thy flight.
To-day the sky is clear; serenely blue
It swells above me, and a freshening gale
Tosses the sparkling sea, full in my view,
Crested with many a bright and bellying sail.
Thou too art hovering, in the sunny air,
Over this fair spring-time of budding groves:
Thou listen'st to the voice of happy loves;
Smilest, — and answering smiles await thee there.
But I would rather seek thee, where alone
Thou find'st thy home, in the Ideal; — there
Thou sittest, as a conqueror on his throne;
Around thee stand the great, the good, the fair,
Perfect as highest thought, — no dim decay
Can ever waste them, — free from spot or stain,
They live, unchanged, one long, eternal day; —
Thither I haste, for there I cannot seek in vain.
In that high home, O, pour thy sacred light
Around my soul, that I may feel and know
How godlike man, when, on his utmost height,
He looks, as Washington, on all below,
Mild, yet unbending; stern to keep the right,
Yet filled with love of country's warmest glow,
And holier love of all! Inspired by thee,
O, be my theme alone the perfect and the free!
We have been parted, that I seek thee far,
And find thee not. Once ever to my song
Thou hastedst; in thy flight, as lambent star
Shot from the highest sphere:
And with thee, to my ear
Came heartening tones, that kindly drew me on,
Until, as self-evolved, my lay was done.
Yet I would win thee still
To dwell beside me, as in earlier days.
That time of flowers is gone; its memory stays,
And often will its dreams my spirit fill
With youth's full joy. Where shall I seek thee now?
Is it upon the sky-crowned mountain's brow?
Or sit'st thou rather by the sounding shore, —
Fit music for thee in its rush and roar, —
Or roamest free the desert's boundless plain?
O, lead me even so far, to find thee once again!
A storm rose 'mid the gloom of yesternight;
And as it just o'ertopped the distant hill,
Forked lightnings played in jets of starry light,
And yet the hushed and slumbrous air was still:
But as the cloud rolled, billowy, up the sky,
The flash soon heralded the bursting peal;
'Mid the wild conflict, then I felt me high
Uplifted to thee, for I well could feel,
Thou with the winds and thunders hadst thy flight.
To-day the sky is clear; serenely blue
It swells above me, and a freshening gale
Tosses the sparkling sea, full in my view,
Crested with many a bright and bellying sail.
Thou too art hovering, in the sunny air,
Over this fair spring-time of budding groves:
Thou listen'st to the voice of happy loves;
Smilest, — and answering smiles await thee there.
But I would rather seek thee, where alone
Thou find'st thy home, in the Ideal; — there
Thou sittest, as a conqueror on his throne;
Around thee stand the great, the good, the fair,
Perfect as highest thought, — no dim decay
Can ever waste them, — free from spot or stain,
They live, unchanged, one long, eternal day; —
Thither I haste, for there I cannot seek in vain.
In that high home, O, pour thy sacred light
Around my soul, that I may feel and know
How godlike man, when, on his utmost height,
He looks, as Washington, on all below,
Mild, yet unbending; stern to keep the right,
Yet filled with love of country's warmest glow,
And holier love of all! Inspired by thee,
O, be my theme alone the perfect and the free!
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