Burton W. Lockhart
From “The Retrospect”
O BROTHERS! thro’ how many lands
We’ve sought the Holy Grail!
Lo, here is truth! Lo, there she stands!—
Bow down, and cry, “All hail!”
Still she looks on us far withdrawn,
With stars and clouds bedight;
The vision of our spirit’s dawn,
The watch-fire of our night.
Trust thy soul’s highest vision—trust!
Think not to touch or taste:
Time’s ancient mystery—poor dust!—
For thee will not make haste.
The noble still must seek the light;
The doctrinaire still raves;
But Faith holds fast, while the long night
Shines o’er our fathers’ graves.
Love and Song
LOVE sayeth: Sing of me!
What else is worth a song?
I had refrained
Lest I should do Love wrong.
“Clean hands, and a pure heart,”
I prayed, “and I will sing:”
But all I gained
Brought to my word no wing.
Stars, sunshine, seas and skies,
Earth’s graves, the holy hills,
Were all in vain;
No breath the dumb pipe fills.
I dreamed of splendid praise,
And Beauty watching by
Gray shores of Pain:
My song turned to a sigh.
I saw in virgin eyes
The mother warmth that makes
The dead earth quick
In ways no Spring awakes.
No song. In vain to sight
Life’s clear arch heavenward sprang.
Heart still, or sick!
—I loved! Ah, then I sang!
By the Gaspereau
DO you remember, dear, a night in June,
So long, so long ago,
When we were lovers, wandering with the moon,
Beside the Gaspereau?
The river plashed and gurgled thro’ its glooms,
Slow stealing to the sea,
A silver serpent; in the apple blooms
The soft air rustled free.
And o’er the river from afar the sound
Of mellow tinkling bells
From browsing cattle stirred the echo round
In gentle falls and swells.
No sound of human sorrow, nor of mirth,
Streamed on that peace abroad,
And all the night leaned low upon the earth
Like the calm face of God.
And in our hearts there breathed, like life, a breath
Of most delicious pain:
It seemed a whisper ran from birth to death,
And back to birth again,
And bound in airy chains our shining hours,
Past, present, and to come,
In one sweet whole, strong to defy the powers
Of change, till Time be dumb.
Yes, you remember, dear, that night in June,
So long, so long ago,
When we were lovers, wandering with the moon,
Beside the Gaspereau.