Verses on Various Occasions

There is in stillness oft a magic power To calm the breast, when struggling passions lower; Touch’d by its influence, in the soul arise Diviner feelings, kindred with the skies. By this the Arab’s kindling thoughts expand, When circling skies enclose the desert sand; For this the hermit seeks the thickest grove, To catch th’ inspiring glow of heavenly love. It is not solely in the freedom given To purify and fix the heart on heaven; There is a Spirit singing aye in air, That lifts us high above all mortal care. No mortal measure swells that mystic sound, No mortal minstrel breathes such tones around⁠— The Angels’ hymn⁠—the sovereign harmony That guides the rolling orbs along the sky⁠— And hence perchance the tales of saints who view’d And heard Angelic choirs in solitude. By most unheard⁠—because the earthly din Of toil or mirth has charms their ears to win. Alas for man! he knows not of the bliss, The heaven that brightens such a life as this.

Let the sun summon all his beams to hold Bright pageant in his court, the cloud-paved sky Earth trim her fields and leaf her copses cold; Till the dull month with summer-splendours vie. It is my Birthday;⁠—and I fain would try, Albeit in rude, in heartfelt strains to praise My God, for He hath shielded wondrously From harm and envious error all my ways, And purged my misty sight, and fixed on heaven my gaze.

2.

Not in that mood, in which the insensate crowd Of wealthy folly hail their natal day⁠— With riot throng, and feast, and greetings loud, Chasing all thoughts of God and heaven away. Poor insect! feebly daring, madly gay, What! joy because the fulness of the year Marks thee for greedy death a riper prey? Is not the silence of the grave too near? Viewest thou the end with glee, meet scene for harrowing fear?

Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home⁠— Lead Thou me on! Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see The distant scene⁠—one step enough for me.

I was not ever thus, nor pray’d that Thou Shouldst lead me on. I loved to choose and see my path, but now Lead Thou me on! I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears, Pride ruled my will: remember not past years.

So long Thy power hath blest me, sure it still Will lead me on, O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till The night is gone; And with the morn those angel faces smile Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.

At Sea. June 16, 1833.

Gerontius17

Jesu, Maria⁠—I am near to death, And Thou art calling me; I know it now⁠— Not by the token of this faltering breath, This chill at heart, this dampness on my brow, (Jesu, have mercy! Mary, pray for me!)⁠— ’Tis this new feeling, never felt before, (Be with me, Lord, in my extremity!) That I am going, that I am no more. ’Tis this strange innermost abandonment, (Lover of souls! great God! I look to Thee,) This emptying out of each constituent And natural force, by which I come to be. Pray for me, O my friends; a visitant Is knocking his dire summons at my door, The like of whom, to scare me and to daunt, Has never, never come to me before; ’Tis death⁠—O loving friends, your prayers!⁠—’tis he!⁠ ⁠… As though my very being had given way, As though I was no more a substance now, And could fall back on nought to be my stay, (Help, loving Lord! Thou my sole Refuge, Thou,) And turn no whither, but must needs decay And drop from out the universal frame Into that shapeless, scopeless, blank abyss, That utter nothingness, of which I came: This is it that has come to pass in me; O horror! this it is, my dearest, this; So pray for me, my friends, who have not strength to pray.