OF REST. (") In the silent watches of the night, calm night that breedeth thoughts, (12) Then I noted adders in the grass, and pitfalls under the flowers, And chasms yawned among the hills, and the ground was cracked and slippery: But Hope and her brother Fear suffered not a foot to linger; And ceaselessly, like Lapland swarms, that miserable crowd sped along There saw I, midway in the water, standing a giant fisher, And he held many lines in his hand, and they called him Iron Destiny. So I tracked those subtle chains, and each held one among the multitude. river: And he pulled all those myriads along, and none might rest by the way, Till many, for sheer weariness, were eager to plunge into the drowning stream. So I knew that valley was Life, and it sloped to the waters of Death. Where all was tranquil as a sleep, and the crowded strand was quiet: And I saw there many I had known, but their eyes glared chillingly upon me, As set in deepest slumber; and they pressed their fingers to their lips. Then I knew that shore was the dwelling of Rest, where spirits held their Sabbath, And it seemed they would have told me much, but they might not break that silence; For the law of their being was mystery: they glided on, hushing as they went. Yet further, under the sun, at the roots of purple mountains, And far as the eye could reach, were millions of happy creatures Then the hill whereon I stood split asunder, and a crater yawned at my feet, Black and deep and dreadful, fenced round with ragged rocks; Dimly was the darkness lit up by spires of distant flame: And I saw below a moving mass of life, like reptiles bred in corruption, Where all was terrible unrest, shrieks and groans and thunder. So I woke, and I thought upon my dream; for it seemed of wisdom's ministration. What man is he that findeth rest, though he hunt for it year after year? grave. There remaineth a rest for the spirit on the shadowy side of life; But unto this world's pilgrim no rest for the sole of his foot. Ever, from stage to stage, he travelleth wearily forward, And though he pluck flowers by the way, he may not sleep among the flowers. Mind is the perpetual motion; for it is a running stream From an unfathomable source, the depth of the divine Intelligence: For destiny will not cease from dragging thee through the rough wilderness of life; Seekest thou rest, O immortal?-hope not to find it in Heaven, For sloth yieldeth not happiness: the bliss of a spirit is action. Rest dwelleth only on an island in the midst of the ocean of existence, OF HUMILITY. VICE is grown aweary of her gawds, and donneth russet garments, For Pride hath noted how all admire the fairness of Humility, And to clutch the praise he coveteth, is content to be drest in hair-cloth; And wily Lust tempteth the young heart, that is proof against the bravery of harlots, With timid tears and retiring looks of an artless seeming maid; And indolent Apathy, sleepily ashamed of his dull lack-lustre face, Is glad of the livery of meekness, that charitable cloak and cowl; And Slander, snake-like, creepeth in the dust, thinking to escape recrimination. But the world hath gained somewhat from its years, and is quick to pene. trate disguises, Neither in all these is it easily deceived, but rightly divideth the true from the false. YET there is a meanness of spirit that is fair in the eyes of most men, persecution. But what! art thou not a man, deputed chief of the creation? Art thou not a soldier of the right, militant for God and good? Shall virtue and truth be degraded, because thou art too base to uphold them? Or Goliath be bolder in blaspheming for want of a David in the camp? And that resignation is but mock, where the burden is not felt: HUMILITY mainly becometh the converse of man with his Maker, Render unto all men their due, but remember thou also art a man, And cheat not thyself of the reverence which is owing to thy reasonable being. Be courteous, and listen, and learn: but teach and answer if thou canst: Serve thee of thy neighbour's wisdom, but be not enslaved as to a master Where thou perceivest knowledge, bend the ear of attention and respect; But yield not further to the teaching, than as thy mind is warranted by reasons. Better is an obstinate disputant, that yieldeth inch by inch, Than the shallow traitor to himself, who surrendereth to half an argument. MODESTY Winneth good report, but scorn cometh close upon servility, erreth ; There is a candour near akin to folly, and a meekness looking like shame. |