Thick smoke is round about us, through the din Of words that darken counsel, clamors dire
Ring from thought's beaten anvil, where within Two giants toil, that even from their birth With travail-pangs have torn their mother Earth, And wearied out her children with their keen Upbraidings of the other, till between
Thou camest, saying, "Wherefore do ye wrong Each other? ye are Brethren." Then these twain Will own their kindred, and in Thee retain Their claims in peace, because Thy land is wide As it is goodly! here they pasture free, This lion and this leopard, side by side, A little child doth lead them with a song; Now Ephraim's envy ceaseth, and no more Doth Judah anger Ephraim chiding sore, For one did ask a Brother, one a King, So dost Thou gather them in one, and bring Thou, King forevermore, forever Priest, Thou, Brother of our own from bonds released. A Law of Liberty,
A Service making free,
A Commonweal where each has all in Thee.
And not alone these wide,
Deep-planted yearnings, seeking with a cry Their meat from God, in Thee are satisfied; But all our instincts waking suddenly Within the soul, like infants from their sleep That stretch their arms into the dark and weep, Thy voice can still. The stricken heart bereft Of all its brood of singing hopes, and left 'Mid leafless boughs, a cold, forsaken nest With snow-flakes in it, folded in Thy breast Doth lose its deadly chill; and grief that creeps
Unto Thy side for shelter, finding there
The wound's deep cleft, forgets its moan, and weeps Calm, quiet tears, and on Thy forehead Care Hath looked until its thorns, no longer bare, Put forth pale roses. Pain on Thee doth press Its quivering chek, and all the weariness,
The want that keep their silence, till from Thee They hear the gracious summons, none beside Hath spoken to the world-worn, "Come to me," Tell forth their heavy secrets.
These in Thy bosom, and not these alone, But all our heart's fond treasure that had grown A burden else: O Saviour, tears were weighed To Thee in plenteous measure! none hath shown That Thou did'st smile! yet hast Thou surely made All joy of ours Thine own;
Thou madest us for Thine; We seek amiss, we wander to and fro; Yet are we ever on the track Divine; The soul confesseth Thee, but sense is slow To lean on aught but that which it may see; So hath it crowded up these Courts below With dark and broken images of Thee;
Lead Thou us forth upon Thy Mount, and show Thy goodly patterns, whence these things of old By Thee were fashioned; One though manifold. Gloss Thou Thy perfect likeness in the soul, Show us Thy countenance, and we are WHOLE !
ILLUSTRATIONS OF THE DIFFERENT VARIETIES 01 STRESS.
"Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul,
With all the speed ye may;
I, with two more to help me, Will hold the foe in play. In yon strait path a thousand May well be stopped by three. Now, who will stand on either hand, And keep the bridge with me?"
Then out spake Spurius Lartius, A Ramnian proud was he: "Lo, I will stand on thy right hand, And keep the bridge with thee."
And out spake strong Herminius, Of Titian blood was he: "I will abide on thy left side,
And keep the bridge with thee."
"Horatius," quoth the Consul,
"As thou sayest, so let it be." And straight against that great array Forth went the dauntless Three. For Romans in Rome's quarrel Spared neither land nor gold, Nor son, nor wife, nor limb, nor life, In the brave days of old.
Meanwhile the Tuscan army,
Right glorious to behold,
Jame flashing back the noonday light, Rank behind rank, like surges bright Of a broad sea of gold.
Four hundred trumpets sounded
A peal of warlike glee,
As that great host, with measured tread, And spears advanced, and ensigns spread, Rolled slowly towards the bridge's head, Where stood the dauntless Three.
The Three stood calm and silent, And looked upon the foes, And a great shout of laughter
From all the vanguard rose:
And forth three chiefs came spurring Before that mighty mass;
To earth they sprang, their swords they drew And lifted high their shields, and flew To win the narrow pass.
But all Etruria's noblest
Felt their hearts sink to see On the earth the bloody corpses, In the path the dauntless Three: And, from the ghastly entrance
Where those bold Romans stood, All shrank, like boys who unaware, Ranging the woods to start a hare, Come to the mouth of the dark lair Where, growling low, a fierce old bear Lies amidst bones and blood.
Was none who would be foremost To lead such dire attack;
But those behind cried "Forward!" And those before cried "Back!" And backward now and forward
Wavers the deep array;
And on the tossing sea of steel, To and fro the standards reel; And the victorious trumpet-peal Dies fitfully away.
Yet one man for one moment
Strode out before the crowd;
Well known was he to all the Three, And they gave him greeting loud. "Now welcome, welcome, Sextus!
Now welcome to thy home!
Why dost thou stay, and turn away? Here lies the road to Rome."
Thrice looked he on the city; Thrice looked he on the dead;
And thrice came on in fury,
And thrice turned back in dread; And, white with fear and hatred, Scowled at the narrow way
Where, wallowing in a pool of blood, The bravest Tuscans lay.
But meanwhile axe and lever Have manfully been plied,
And now the bridge hangs tottering Above the boiling tide.
"Come back, come back, Horatius!" Loud cried the Fathers all.
"Back, Lartius! back, Herminius! Back, ere the ruin fall!"
Back darted Spurius Lartius; Herminius darted back:
And, as they passed, beneath their feet They felt the timbers crack. But when they turned their faces,
And on the farther shore
Saw brave Horatius stand alone,
They would have crossed once more.
But with a crash like thunder
Fell every loosened beam,
And, like a dam, the mighty wreck Lay right athwart the stream: And a long shout of triumph Rose from the walls of Rome,
As to the highest turret-tops Was splashed the yellow foam.
And like a horse unbroken When first he feels the rein, The furious river struggled hard, And tossed his tawny mane; And burst the curb, and bounded, Rejoicing to be free;
And whirling down, in fierce career,
Battlement, and plank, and pier, Rushed headlong to the sea.
Alone stood brave Horatius, But constant still in mind; Thrice thirty thousand foes before, And the broad flood behind.
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