Clad in thine immortality, E’en now we hear thee joyful sing-- “O Grave, where is thy victory! O Death, where is thy sting!” Pass on, sweet spirit, to increase In every bright, celestial grace, Till in the land of love and peace, We meet thee, dear one, face to face. THE CRY OF THE DESOLATE. “It is only with Renunciation, that life, properly speaking, can be said to begin.” “Light dawns upon me! There is in man a HIGHER than love of _Happiness_; he can do without happiness, and instead thereof find _Blessedness_.”--THOS. CARLYLE. O GOD of the Eagle and Lion! Thy strength to my being impart; Not for wings, nor for sinews of iron, I ask, but thy life in my heart. I grope in the dark, and seek blindly The hand that shall lead to the light; There is no one to answer me kindly-- There is no one to teach me the right. An arrow from Fate’s deadly quiver Seemed carelessly sped, at no mark, But with anguish I tremble and shiver, For it wounded my soul in the dark. I have suffered in silence unbroken, I have stanched the red wound with my hand; O God! was the arrow Thy token? Did Fate but obey Thy command? There is no one on earth that can render My heart its full measure of love; There is no one on earth that is tender And true as the angels above. Take me up to Thy bosom, O strong One! O wise One! I _am_ not afraid! For I know that Thou never wilt wrong one Of those whom Thy wisdom hath made. These vestments of flesh that oppress us, Have stifled the soul’s vital breath, Like the torturing garment of Nessus,[1] We part from them only in death. O Thou marvelous Soul of Existence! Are we doomed by the might of Thy will, Unchanged by our feeble resistance, Thy fathomless law to fulfill? O Fashioner! Thou who hast guided The tempest of atoms at strife, Hath not Thy compassion provided A fountain of strength for each life? And doth not Time’s changing phantasma Still move at Thy sovereign control, As when in Earth’s cherishing plasma Was planted the germ of the soul? Then lead me, for O, I am lonely! And love me, for I am Thine own-- Yes, Great One and True One! Thine only-- And with Thee am never alone. O God of the Eagle and Lion! Thy strength to my being impart; Not for wings, nor for sinews of iron I ask--but Thy life in my heart. THE SPIRIT-MOTHER. THROUGH our lives’ mysterious changes, Through the sorrow-haunted years, Runs a law of Compensation For our sufferings and our tears. And the soul that reasons rightly, All its sad complaining stills, Till it learns that meek submission, Where it wishes not nor wills.