The Poems of Henry Van Dyke Part 24

ODE TO PEACE

I

IN EXCELSIS

Two dwellings, Peace, are thine.

One is the mountain-height, Uplifted in the loneliness of light Beyond the realm of shadows,--fine, And far, and clear,--where advent of the night Means only glorious nearness of the stars, And dawn unhindered breaks above the bars That long the lower world in twilight keep.

Thou sleepest not, and hast no need of sleep, For all thy cares and fears have dropped away; The night's fatigue, the fever-fret of day, Are far below thee; and earth's weary wars, In vain expense of pa.s.sion, pa.s.s Before thy sight like visions in a gla.s.s,-- Or like the wrinkles of the storm that creep Across the sea and leave no trace Of trouble on that immemorial face,-- So brief appear the conflicts, and so slight The wounds men give, the things for which they fight!

Here hangs a fortress on the distant steep,-- A lichen clinging to the rock.

There sails a fleet upon the deep,-- A wandering flock Of snow-winged gulls. And yonder, in the plain, A marble palace s.h.i.+nes,--a grain Of mica glittering in the rain.

Beneath thy feet the clouds are rolled By voiceless winds: and far between The rolling clouds, new sh.o.r.es and peaks are seen, In s.h.i.+mmering robes of green and gold, And faint aerial hue That silent fades into the silent blue.

Thou, from thy mountain-hold, All day in tranquil wisdom looking down On distant scenes of human toil and strife, All night, with eyes aware of loftier life Uplifted to the sky where stars are sown, Dost watch the everlasting fields grow white Unto the harvest of the sons of light, And welcome to thy dwelling-place sublime The few strong souls that dare to climb The slippery crags, and find thee on the height.

II

DE PROFUNDIS

But in the depth thou hast another home, For hearts less daring, or more frail.

Thou dwellest also in the shadowy vale; And pilgrim-souls that roam With weary feet o'er hill and dale, Bearing the burden and the heat Of toilful days, Turn from the dusty ways To find thee in thy green and still retreat.

Here is no vision wide outspread Before the lonely and exalted seat Of all-embracing knowledge. Here, instead, A little cottage, and a garden-nook, With outlooks brief and sweet Across the meadows, and along the brook,-- A little stream that nothing knows Of the great sea to which it gladly flows,-- A little field that bears a little wheat To make a portion of earth's daily bread.

The vast cloud-armies overhead Are marshalled, and the wild wind blows Its trumpet, but thou canst not tell Whence comes the wind nor where it goes; Nor dost thou greatly care, since all is well.

Thy daily task is done, And now the wages of repose are won.

Here friends.h.i.+p lights the fire, and every heart, Sure of itself and sure of all the rest, Dares to be true, and gladly takes its part In open converse, bringing forth its best: And here is music, melting every chain Of la.s.situde and pain: And here, at last, is sleep with silent gifts,-- Kind sleep, the tender nurse who lifts The soul grown weary of the waking world, And lays it, with its thoughts all furled, Its fears forgotten, and its pa.s.sions still, On the deep bosom of the Eternal Will.

THREE PRAYERS FOR SLEEP AND WAKING

I

BEDTIME

Ere thou sleepest gently lay Every troubled thought away: Put off worry and distress As thou puttest off thy dress: Drop thy burden and thy care In the quiet arms of prayer.

_Lord, Thou knowest how I live, All I've done amiss forgive: All of good I've tried to do, Strengthen, bless, and carry through, All I love in safety keep, While in Thee I fall asleep._

II

NIGHT WATCH

If slumber should forsake Thy pillow in the dark, Fret not thyself to mark How long thou liest awake.

There is a better way; Let go the strife and strain, Thine eyes will close again, If thou wilt only pray.

_Lord, Thy peaceful gift restore, Give my body sleep once more: While I wait my soul will rest Like a child upon Thy breast._

III

NEW DAY

Ere thou risest from thy bed, Speak to G.o.d Whose wings were spread O'er thee in the helpless night: Lo, He wakes thee now with light!

Lift thy burden and thy care In the mighty arms of prayer.

_Lord, the newness of this day Calls me to an untried way: Let me gladly take the road, Give me strength to bear my load, Thou my guide and helper be-- I will travel through with Thee._

The Mission Inn, California, Easter, 1913.

PORTRAIT AND REALITY

If on the closed curtain of my sight My fancy paints thy portrait far away, I see thee still the same, by night or day; Crossing the crowded street, or moving bright 'Mid festal throngs, or reading by the light Of shaded lamp some friendly poet's lay, Or shepherding the children at their play,-- The same sweet self, and my unchanged delight.

But when I see thee near, I recognize In every dear familiar way some strange Perfection, and behold in April guise The magic of thy beauty that doth range Through many moods with infinite surprise,-- Never the same, and sweeter with each change.

THE WIND OF SORROW

The fire of love was burning, yet so low That in the peaceful dark it made no rays, And in the light of perfect-placid days The ashes hid the smouldering embers' glow.

Vainly, for love's delight, we sought to throw New pleasures on the pyre to make it blaze: In life's calm air and tranquil-prosperous ways We missed the radiant heat of long ago.

Then in the night, a night of sad alarms, Bitter with pain and black with fog of fears That drove us trembling to each other's arms, Across the gulf of darkness and salt tears Into life's calm the wind of sorrow came, And fanned the fire of love to clearest name.

HIDE AND SEEK

I

All the trees are sleeping, all the winds are still, All the fleecy flocks of cloud, gone beyond the hill; Through the noon-day silence, down the woods of June, Hark, a little hunter's voice, running with a tune.

"Hide and seek!

When I speak, You must answer me: Call again, Merry men, Coo-ee, coo-ee, coo-ee!"

Now I hear his footsteps rustling in the gra.s.s: Hidden in my leafy nook, shall I let him pa.s.s?

Just a low, soft whistle,--quick the hunter turns, Leaps upon me laughing loud, rolls me in the ferns.

"Hold him fast, Caught at last!

Now you're it, you see.

Hide your eye, Till I cry, Coo-ee, coo-ee, coo-ee!"