The Project Gutenberg eBook of Poems: Pastoral and Psalm

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Title: Poems: Pastoral and Psalm

Author: Benjamin Copeland


Release date: March 5, 2016 [eBook #51367]
Most recently updated: October 23, 2024

Language: English

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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK POEMS: PASTORAL AND PSALM ***

CONTENTS:

POEMS:
PASTORAL AND PSALM.

THE FIRST ROBIN.
THE MEADOW AIR IS SWEET.
A CONTRAST.
THE GOAL.
UNANSWERED.
EASTER ANTICIPATED.
UNDER THE MOON.
HEART’S-EASE.
THE REWARD.
STRUGGLE AND REST.
COMPENSATION.
BETRAYED.
MIDNIGHT AND MORNING.
OTHER SHEEP.
NIAGARA.
LET IN THE LIGHT!
THE LAW OF LOVE.
A PROPHECY.
LITTLE RUTH.
WHERE THERE IS NO MORE PAIN.
AMONG THE LILIES.
FORGOTTEN?

“IN THE BEGINNING, GOD.”

ADORATION.
CONFIDING IN GOD.
PROVIDENCE.
ANNIVERSARY PRAISE.
OUT OF THE DEPTHS.
THE SANCTUARY.
“IN QUIET RESTING PLACES.”
THE SEASONS ARE THY SERVANTS.
ASPIRATION AND REST.
THE LARGER LIFE.

CHRIST IN SONG.

CHRISTMAS.
GOLD, AND FRANKINCENSE, AND MYRRH.
GOOD FRIDAY.
THE RESURRECTION.
EASTER-TIDE.
THE SURE FOUNDATION.
LIGHT OF LIGHT.
ALL IN ALL.
A MISSIONARY LYRIC.
IN THE MORNING, JESUS.
PENITENTIAL.
“FAINT, YET PURSUING.”
SALUS PER CHRISTUM.
SUPPLICATION.
IN THY LIKENESS.
THE LIGHT OF LIFE.
CHRISTUS CONSOLATOR.
HOLY SPIRIT, HEAVENLY GUEST!
HOLY SPIRIT, LIGHT DIVINE!
“THE DAY OF CHRIST.”
THE CONSUMMATION.
ALL SAINTS.
OUR LIFE IS LENT.
IT DOTH NOT YET APPEAR.
THE RAINBOW ROUND THE THRONE.

(etext transcriber's note)

POEMS
PASTORAL AND PSALM

BY Rev. Benjamin Copeland



NEW YORK: EATON & MAINS
CINCINNATI: CURTS & JENNINGS
Copyright by EATON & MAINS, 1896.

Eaton & Mains Press,
150 Fifth Avenue, New York.

POEMS:

PASTORAL AND PSALM.

THE FIRST ROBIN.

Herald of the happy year,
 Robin redbreast, art thou here?
 Welcome to thy destined goal;
 Welcome, songster of the soul!
Age and Childhood find in thee
 Kindred bond of sympathy;
 Hope and Memory are one
 In thy song’s sweet unison.
Common freehold all hearts claim
 In thy nature’s artless aim;
 Best of priests and poets, thou,
 Singing on the leafless bough.
Mead and mountain, wood and wold,
 Wait the rapture manifold,
 Which shall prove thee saint and seer,
 Dearest minstrel of the year!
Every note like April rain—
 Thou transmutest, in thy strain,
 With the season’s subtle power,
 Winter’s dearth to summer’s dower.
Glows the mold with vernal fire
 Kindled by thy love’s desire;
 Nature wakens, at thy call,
 To her Easter festival.
Mateless messenger divine!
 Peerless privilege is thine:
 Thou interpretest to Faith
 The deep mystery of death.

THE MEADOW AIR IS SWEET.

The meadow air is sweet,—
 The cowslip’s cup of gold
 Is full of fresh and fragrant dew,—
 More full than it can hold.
The meadow air is sweet,—
 The blackbird’s mellow note,
 Like water in a little brook,
 Flows gurgling from his throat.
The meadow air is sweet,—
 The stream that cheers the lea
 Will feel the willow’s tender kiss,
 E’en to the distant sea.
The meadow air is sweet,—
 Hark! from the old elm tree—
 Ah! only lovers understand
 The oriole’s ecstasy.
The meadow air is sweet,—
 The clover, handsome—white,
 With dainty odors woos the bee,
 And fills her with delight.
The meadow air is sweet,—
 The bobolink is there!
 When he is mute a faery flute
 Seems echoing in the air.
The meadow air is sweet,—
 The daisy in the grass
 Looks up to see the clouds, and feel
 Their shadow as they pass.
The meadow air is sweet,—
 The swallow flashes by,
 Too merry for a moment’s rest
 Between the earth and sky.
The meadow air is sweet,—
 The day wanes in the west,
 And twilight’s soothing shadows lull
 The weary world to rest.

A CONTRAST.

In the green silence of this sylvan shore
 How servile seems the city’s ceaseless roar!
 How vain the restless rivalry for pelf!
 How low the aim that centers all in self!
The penury of Pride—the sordid care
 Of souls despoiled of poetry and prayer—
 Seems in these happy shades to be
 The comedy of misery.

THE GOAL.

Sweet scents, sweet sounds, sweet scenes!
 With all that intervenes
 In sweeter solemn silences profound,—
 Whereinto overflows,
 In forest, river, rose,
 Passionless being, beauty without bound.
How deep the mind’s repose!
 The vagrant sea breeze blows
 With kindred pulses through the fragrant shade;
 And sod and soul are blent
 In blest enfranchisement,—
 Prefiguring the end for all things made.
For life and love, supreme
 Beyond Isaiah’s dream,
 Shall bear all being to its blissful goal;
 The wondrous word is true:
 “Lo! I make all things new;”—
 The universe is ransomed with the soul.

UNANSWERED.

Whither away, ye argosies of Heaven,
 In solemn state advancing from afar?
 What mission marshals you? What chivalrous emprise
 Darkens the glory of the sapphire skies?
 Say, was your empire’s ancient quiet riven
 With rumor ominous of distant wrong and war?
 Or speed ye forth with snowy sails unfurled,
 And radiant pennons shimmering in the haze,
To bring with proper pomp, to his empyreal throne,
 Your monarch with his bride?—he loveth her alone,—
 Dear daughter of the Sun, the peerless virgin world,
 Long cloistered in his bosom’s brightest rays.
 . . . . . . . . . .
No answer but a deeper shadow cast,—
 And lo! the splendid mystery has passed.

EASTER ANTICIPATED.

Hark! ’tis the Robin, poet-priest,
 Absolves rude Winter’s wrong:
 The heart of Nature is released,
 And soareth out in song.

UNDER THE MOON.

Beautiful Luna, bride of the night!
 Sweet is the sheen of thy soft silver light;
 On castle and cottage in splendor it streams,
 Blessing the earth with its bountiful beams.
Thou cheerest the vigils of shepherd and seer;
 To sailor and lover alike thou art dear;
 Forever and ever thy kingdom shall be:—
 The heart owns thy sway like the tides of the sea.

HEART’S-EASE.

The day will not give place to night,—
 The darkness pierces like the light;
 My care prolongs the noontide glare,
 And makes a desert everywhere.
 O! what will ease a burning brain,
 And the weariness that is worse than pain?
 . . . . . . . . . .
Think of twilight and the dew,—
 The stars serenely shining through
 The tranquil depths of peaceful blue;
 Muse on the moon’s majestic grace;
 How worshipful her radiant face
 In midnight’s solemn loneliness!
 Nature is silent unto God—
 His comforts are exceeding broad.
 . . . . . . . . . .
Receive the word his works declare:
 “The peace of God is everywhere.”
 Too weak for praise, too faint for prayer,
 The benediction of the air
Be thine whose lot it is to share
 Life’s ceaseless, slow-corroding care.
 Be still, and breathe the balm divine,
 Arcturus’ joy, Orion’s wine;
 So shalt thou know the blessed law
 Whence stars their strength and beauty draw,
 Inheriting their influence
 In quietness and confidence,
 And ever, cheerfully as they,
 Press onward in thy heavenward way.

THE REWARD.

From green to gold
 The year grows old,
 With beautiful increase;
 The seasons wane
 To ripened grain
 And Nature’s deepest peace.
The same sure plan
 Is thine, O man!
 Alike for sod and soul,
 The law of love—
 Enthroned above—
 That guides thee to thy goal.
Have faith in God;—
 Who gives the clod
 Its meed of fruit or flower.
 Shall crown thy cares,
 Thy tears, thy prayers,
 With an immortal dower.

STRUGGLE AND REST.

My life was overcast with care,
 And doubt pursued me everywhere;
 Still farther into gloom unknown
 I wandered desolately lone,
 Till, in the depths of self-despair,
 The darkness deepened into prayer;
 And lo! when hope was almost gone,
 The midnight brightened into dawn.
 . . . . . . . . . .
Around my heart was drawn the coil
 Of cheerless, unrelenting toil;
 Nor any respite could I find,
 Nor any comfort for the mind,
 When His dear cross appeared to me,
 Whose service is true liberty;—
 The thought of Jesus brought me rest,
 And meekness made my burden blest.

COMPENSATION.

Deep calleth unto deep;—the heart
 That dwelleth from the world apart
 Is sometimes doubly sad;
 But lo! the light that overflows!
 The desert blossoms like the rose,—
 The wilderness is glad!
The faith serene, the lofty cheer,
 The love triumphant over fear,—
 A paradise below!
 Such is the treasure each may find,
 (The rapture of a quiet mind,)
 And such, in part, bestow.

BETRAYED.

Deceived, defloured, despoiled!
 O drooping lily, late with light aglow!
 Around thy root is coiled
 The hidden horror of a nameless woe.
Deceived, defiled, despoiled!
 Is there no healing for a broken heart?
 O God! hadst thou but foiled
 The fatal spell of the betrayer’s art.
Deceived, despised, despoiled!
 The blight has fallen on thy peerless bloom;
 To bless thy bridal eager ages toiled;—
 A moment’s glamour leaves thee endless gloom.

MIDNIGHT AND MORNING.

Under her heart her sorrow,
 Under her heart her shame,—
 And darker than death the morrow
 With the brand of the whole world’s blame.
 . . . . . . . . . .
Under her heart her glory,—
 O rapture that knows no alloy!
 Blest Mary! thy travail’s sweet story
 Shall waken the whole world’s joy.

OTHER SHEEP.

Pagan, Papist, Protestant!
 What is that to thee or me?
 Make not Heaven’s mercy scant
 With thy pampered bigotry.
Who made thee the judge to be
 Of thy brother’s destiny?
 Deem not that thy shibboleth
 Holds the keys of life and death.
Ah, that secret, sullen sign!
 Call it not decree divine;
 For a letter, more, or less,
 Measures not God’s tenderness.
“Other sheep I have,” said One
 Who was more than Mary’s son;
 Eyes as blind as thine shall see
 His amazing charity.
When it claims the judgment throne,
 What is creed but craft and cant?
 God will surely know his own—
 Pagan, Papist, Protestant.

NIAGARA.

Majestic symbol of eternal power!
 Dread oracle of eons all unknown!
 Before thy presence Pomp and Passion cower,—
 All men are equal at thy awful throne.
Abashed, the eager babble of the mart,
 To silence shamed, the vulgar greed for gain;
 No more ambition goads the weary heart,
 And Toil forgets its unrequited pain.
Stern type of Truth’s inexorable law!
 No room remains for envy or for pride;
 Here prince and pauper stand in common awe,
 Swayed by the spell of thy resistless tide.
A rushing, seething Sinai,—thou dost pour
 On sluggish consciences the solemn sense
 Of justice infinite: thy thunder’s roar
 Declares to Wrong relentless recompense.
Against our arrogance thy strength doth plead;
 Deep unto deep imperiously calls;
 Impartial annalist! the nations read
 Their transient glory on thy ageless walls.
Yet dost thou deign to dower the moment’s need,—
 Our dreams exceeding by thy bounteous sway;
 With power unrivaled thy proud flood shall speed
 The New World’s progress toward Time’s perfect day.
O mighty monitor! O seer sublime!
 The soul’s surpassing grandeur thou dost show;
 The fountains of thy immemorial prime
 Through man’s immortal being freely flow.

LET IN THE LIGHT!

Let in the light!
 The sky is bright,
 The air is flowing free;
 The mountains glow,
 The vale, below,
 Is holding jubilee.
Let in the light!—
 Sad oversight
 To miss so sweet a morn;
 The vision flies,
 Awake! arise!
 Each dawn is life reborn.
Let in the light!
 O! read aright
 The day’s Apocalypse;
 Its hours enfold
 The age of gold,
 And all thy dreams eclipse.
Let in the light!
 ’Twill soon be night;
 Prize every moment given;
 With all thy might
 Serve thou the right,
 And leave the rest to Heaven.

THE LAW OF LOVE.

O, the sky is blue above me,
 And the earth beneath is green,
 And softly bright the flowing light
 Floods the boundless space between.
But what if the day should darken,
 And death’s dread shadows fall?
 I need not fear; with heaven so near,
 Why should the night appall?
’Tis but the peaceful portal
 Unto a morn immortal;
 For the light that once gladdened the garden’s deep gloom
 At last shall transfigure all blight into bloom.
For over and under the soul’s sore strife
 Is the blessed law of an endless life;
 From the sod to the stars, and the stars to the sod,
 Sways the everlasting love of God.

A PROPHECY.

O happy, happy, happy boy!
 Let me tell you all your joy;
 Let me whisper in your ear
 All the secret of the seer.
 Let me tell your fortune fair
 To the wide and wandering air;
 Let me share my rapture rare
 With the social, songful air,—
 With the gentle, genial air,
 Kind to laughter and to prayer.
 . . . . . . . . . .
Whatsoe’er the world may say,
 You shall have the right of way:
 You shall laugh, and you shall play,
 And, in merry roundelay,
 Dance with jolly faun and fay;
 You shall have the wealth of May
 For your dowry every day.
 . . . . . . . . . .
Nature, from her frailest spar
 To her oldest, utmost star,
 All her miracles shall bring
 For your blissful wondering;—
 You shall be her priest and king.
 Knowing what was never known,
 Reaping what was never sown,
 You shall feel the world your own,
On your universal throne.
 And, in holy place apart,
 (Blessed are the pure in heart!)
 In a halo of delight,
 Jubilant with glorious might,
 You shall walk with God in white.
 . . . . . . . . . .
This is all was shown to me
 Of the child’s futurity;
 What the youth and man will be—
 Sealed is in mystery.
 Scarcely can his angel see,
 Face to face with Deity,
 Farther into certainty.
 God exceed the prophecy!
 God be better to the boy
 Than the parent’s dream of joy.

LITTLE RUTH.

I cannot feel that she is gone
 So far, so far away;
 Her little heart close to my own
 Is beating day by day.
Ah! tender are these human ties;
 May heaven at last reveal
 Why on her eyes a slumber lies
 E’en tears cannot unseal.
A look this darkness would displace
 With a divine delight;
 The soul’s rare grace in her fair face.
 It was a blessed sight!
Her hair a happy halo wore
 That lit the hearth and hall;
 Alas! no more my study door
 Heeds her confiding call.
Dear lips! where mirth and music wrote
 The lore in Eden sung;
 Seemed every note from her sweet throat
 By elf or angel strung.
The robin, hark! is here again,
 To woo the wondrous child;
 But all in vain his ardent strain,—
 Death may not be beguiled.
Sleep, Baby, sleep; we will not weep,
 Nor moan or murmur make;
 But O! how deep the dreamless sleep!
 Would God she might awake.
Asleep? awake! the Shepherd takes
 His little lamb above;
 And where she wakes the morning breaks
 In everlasting love.
 . . . . . . . . . .
 But I cannot feel that she is gone
 So far, so far away;
 For her little heart close to my own
 Keeps beating day by day.

WHERE THERE IS NO MORE PAIN.

The sharpest pang, the tenderest tear,
 Not yet are known to thee,
 Unless thy heart has learned how dear
 A little grave can be.
A little grave—but O, how wide
 The room it left for grief!
 A grief which, like the ebbing tide,
 Returns without relief.
Dear child! by death made doubly dear,
 God grant it may not be
 That thou in heaven should’st ever hear
 How much we mourn for thee.
One after one the seasons wane,—
 Our loss, it grows not less;
 Time’s balm is vain to heal the pain
 Of such a loneliness.
O little grave, that darkened so
 The path by Sorrow trod,
 Sometimes the sunset’s golden glow
 Rests on thy daisied sod;—
And then we feel that God is good,
 And we take heart again,
 Assured ’twill all be understood
 Where there is no more pain.
Where there is no more pain—’tis there,
 ’Tis there we long to be;
 O Thou, who didst our sorrows bear,
 Bring us to dwell with thee!
Where there is no more pain—how blest
 Love’s kingdom, fadeless, fair!
 That blissful rest naught shall molest,—
 Death cannot enter there.

AMONG THE LILIES.

Among the lilies she lies asleep,
 Our Easter lily, so fair and sweet,—
 A flower too fair and frail to keep
 Where love with sorrow and pain must meet.
Among the lilies in Paradise
 (O sweeter than Eden, God’s garden above!)
 Stands a little child,—and the same dear eyes
 Look up into ours with immortal love.
Among the lilies! Lord, grant that we
 With the pure in heart thy face may see,
 And find with our loved and our lost a home
 Where pain and sorrow can never come.

FORGOTTEN?

By ties as tender as our tears
 Our hearts still hold to thee;—
 Dear child! death cannot blight the years
 Of immortality.


“IN   THE   BEGINNING,   GOD.”

“In Him we live, and move, and have our being.”

OUR   FATHER.

ADORATION.

Sole Source of being, blessed God!
 Of love the Fountain and the Sea,
 Thy glorious name alone we laud,—
 Our springs, O Lord, are all in thee.
In all our paths thy truth we trace,—
 Thy goodness, infinite, unknown;
 Our everlasting dwelling place,
 In thee we live, in thee alone.
To children’s children still endure
 Thy ceaseless care, thy changeless love;
 Thy covenanted mercies, sure,
 Shall never, nevermore remove.
O happiness without alloy!
 We soon with all thy saints shall come,
 With songs and everlasting joy,
 To Zion, our eternal home.
O holy, holy, holy Lord!
 To thee be endless glory given;
 O be thy name by all adored,
 For evermore, in earth and heaven.

CONFIDING IN GOD.

From thy commandments, Lord,
 O let me never stray;
 According to thy word
 Do thou direct my way.
Be every moment near,—
 Alone I dare not go,—
 And with thy presence cheer
 My pilgrimage below.
Forever in thy sight,
 No harm can happen me;
 The darkness and the light
 Are both alike to thee.
E’en death shall serve thy will,—
 Controlled by thy command;
 No change can work me ill,—
 “My times are in thy hand.”
In this I sweetly rest,—
 Instructed from above,—
 Whatever is, is best;
 For thou, O Lord, art love.

PROVIDENCE.