A frequent similar effect argueth a constant cause: Yet who hath counted the links that bind an omen to its issue? Who knoweth wherefore a monsoon should swell the sails of the prosper ous, Blithely speeding on their course the children of good luck ? There is a secret somewhat in antipathies; and love is more than fancy; That catch events in their approach with sure and apt presentiment, O man, little hast thou learnt of truth in things most true, How therefore shall thy blindness wot of truth in things most false ? How then canst thou define the subtle sympathies of mind? For the spirit, sharpest and strongest when disease hath rent the body, Hath welcomed kindred spirits in nightly visitations, Or learnt from restless ghosts dark secrets of the living, And helped slow justice to her prey by the dreadful teaching of a dream. Verily, there is nothing so true, that the damps of error have not warp ed it; Verily, there is nothing so false, that a sparkle of truth is not in it. He destroyeth, but cannot build; for he is not antagonist deity: The sickle that once reaped righteousness, beaten from its useful curve, Seek not further, O man, to solve the dark riddle of sin; OF ANTICIPATION. THOU hast seen many sorrows, travel-stained pilgrim of the world, head, Yet ills that never happened, have chiefly made thee wretched. The sting of pain and the edge of pleasure are blunted by long expectation. For the wise Physician of our weal loveth not an unbelieving spirit; And to those giveth he good, who rely on his hand for good; But to the timid heart, to the child of unbelief and dread, That leaneth on his own weak staff, and trusteth the sight of his eyes, The evil he feared shall come, for the soil is ready for the seed; And suspicion hath coldly put aside the hand that was ready to help him ; Therefore look up, sad spirit, be strong, thou coward heart, Or fear will make thee wretched, though evil follow not behind: Cease to anticipate misfortune,-there are still many chances of escape; But if it come, be courageous; face it, and conquer thy calamity. There is not an enemy so stout as to storm and take the fortress of the mind, Unless its infirmity turn traitor, and Fear unbar the gates. The valiant standeth as a rock, and the billows break upon him; Yet oftentimes is evil but a braggart, that provoketh and will not fight; The precious smiting of a friend, whose frowns are all in love: Often the storm threateneth, but is driven to other climes, And the weak hath quailed in fear, while the firm hath been glad in his confidence. OF HIDDEN USES. THE sea-wort (3) floating on the waves, or rolled up high along the shore, Ye counted useless and vile, heaping on it names of contempt: Yet hath it gloriously triumphed, and man been humbled in his ignorance, For health is in the freshness of its savour, and it cumbereth the beach with wealth; Comforting the tossings of pain with its violet-tinctured essence, And by its humbler ashes enriching many proud. Be this then a lesson to thy soul, that thou reckon nothing worthless, Because thou heedest not its use, nor knowest the virtues thereof. And herein, as thou walkest by the sea, shall weeds be a type and an earnest Of the stored and uncounted riches lying hid in all creatures of God: Not long to charm away disease, hath the crocus (*) yielded up its bulb, Not long hath the twisted leaf, the fragrant gift of China, Nor that nutritious root, the boon of far Peru, Nor the many-coloured dahlia, nor the gorgeous flaunting cactus, meadow, In the sycamore's winged fruit, and the facet-cut cones of the cedar; When acorns give out fragrant drink, (5) and the sap of the linden is as fatness: For every green herb, from the lotus to the darnel, Is rich with delicate aids to help incurious man. Still, Mind is up and stirring, and pryeth in the corners of contrivance, Often from the dark recesses picking out bright seeds of truth: Knowledge hath clipped the lightning's wings, and mewed it up for a purpose, Training to some domestic task the fiery bird of heaven; Tamed is the spirit of the storm, to slave in all peaceful arts, To walk with husbandry and science; to stand in the vanguard against death: And the chemist balanceth his elements with more than magic skill, Commanding stones that they be bread, and draining sweetness out of wormwood. Yet man, heedless of a God, counteth up vain reckonings, Fearing to be jostled and starved out, by the too prolific increase of his kind; And asketh, in unbelieving dread, for how few years to come Fear not, son of man, for thyself nor thy seed :—with a multitude is plenty; God's blessing giveth increase, and with it larger than enough. Search out the wisdom of nature, there is depth in all her doings; And dews are sucked into the cloud, dropping fatness on the world: Yet hath she specially for each its microscopic purpose: There is use in the prisoned air, that swelleth the pods of the laburnum; How knoweth discontented man what a train of ills might follow, If the lowest menial of nature knew not her secret office? If the thistle never sprang up, to mock the loose husbandry of indolence, For otherwhile falleth it out that truth, driven to extremities, O, blinded is thine eye, if it see not just aptitude in all things; The sage, and the beetle at his feet, hath each a ministration to perform; The brier and the palm have the wages of life, rendering secret service. Neither is it thus alone with the definite existences of matter; But motion and sound, circumstance and quality, yea, all things have their office. The zephyr playing with an aspen leaf,-the earthquake that rendeth a continent; |