Opportunity by edward rowland sill. Edward Rowland Sill 2019-01-24
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Opportunity, by Edward Rowland Sill
Shall we float away in the frosty blue To that living, summer world we knew, With its full, hot heart-beats as of old, Or be frozen phantoms of the cold? I smile at your shocked face : In the morning she will wake, Turn her dreams to sport, and make All the household glad and gay, Yet for many a merry day, With her beauty and her grace. But a cloud can also be a portent of things to come, for good or ill. Was it before my fate I knelt The human fate, the mighty law To hunger for the heart I felt, And love the lovely face I saw? Pain could but bring, from all its evil store, The close of pain : hate s venom could but kill ; Kepulse, defeat, desertion, could no more. Of stronger hands, unfailing, unafraid? The Delta Kappa Epsilon council. No glory of the night or day Lit any crown for him, The tranquil past but breathed a mist To make the future dim. What may man do for thee? Like a picture in a book, Pure and peaceful is your look, Quietly you walk your ways; Steadfast duty fills the days.
And know not yet which world such murmurs haunt : Single, then double beats, reiterant ; Far off and near ; one ceaseless, changeless tune. Let it come, when come it must ; But To-Day from out the dust Blooms and brightens like a flower, Fair with love, and faith, and power. Now rises one with faintly rustling robes, And white hands search among the glistening keys. So his creeds glibly prate of choice and will, When his whole fate is an invisible speck Whirled through the orbits of Eternity. The burning drop had shrunk with fearful speed ; A glistening film t was gone ; the leaf was dry. On yonder island-rock my table s spread, Brook-ringed, that no stray, fasting ant may come To make himself with my wild fare at home.
Yet back of this career, typical of that of many of his countrymen in its frequent changes of scene, its patient struggle against hard conditions, one per ceives a strong personality. Which were the nobler goal To snatch at the moment s bliss, Or to swear I will keep my soul Clean for her kiss? Thou hast no need to wake, Thou art no sentinel ; Love all the care will take, And Wisdom watcheth well. Ah, woe for her, that mortal doom must be! Under the starlight, Rippling the moonlight, Drinking the sunlight, Desolate, never heard nor seen, Beating forever it hath been. Otherwise, I will soon come to you and will fight against them with the sword of my mouth. On mart and meadow, Pavement or plain ; On azure mountain, Or azure main Heaven bends in blessing ; Lost is but won ; Goes the good rain-cloud, Comes the good sun! Now it is the hum And roar of distant streets ; the rush of winds Through far-off forests : now the noise of rain Drumming the roof ; the hiss of ocean-foam : Now the swift ripple of piano-keys In mad mazurkas, danced by laughing girls. The quickened blood ran dancing to its doom, And lip sought trembling lip in that rich gloom. Yet see thou, though the realm be His, He governs it by deputies.
Battles, as does football, have last second miracle plays — a Hail Mary. Here is no niggard gap of sky above, With murk and mist below, but all sides clear, Not an inch bated from the full-swung dome ; Each constellation to the horizon s rim Keen-glittering, as if one only need Walk to the edge there, spread his wings, and float, The dark earth spurned behind, into the blue. The sun has risen, But still the storming sea of air beats on, And o er the broad green slopes a flood of light Comes streaming through the heavens like a wind, Till every leaf and twig becomes a lyre And thrills with vibrant splendor. Doubtless the child, within her nursery walls, Thinks her kind father is the father of all Those happy children, chattering on the lawn Keeps yonder town as well as this bright room, And pours the brook that sparkles past the door. For at the door a merry din Is heard, with stamp of feathery feet, And chattering girls come storming in, To toast them at the roaring grate.
So, here I breathe ; That silent darkness smothered me. The distant thing is all incredible, And the dim past as if it had not been. The craven represents all those who believe in Christ but lack faith in Him. When Bennen saw the snow slip, heard its thunder Low, louder, roaring round him, felt the speed Grow swifter as the avalanche hurled downward, Did he for just one heart-throb did he indeed Know with all certainty, as they swept onward, There was the end, where the crag dropped away? He devoted himself to literary work, abundant and largely anonymous, until his death in 1887 in. The noblest soul of all! But I lay there, alone. Here are gallant courage, reverence, and enduring faith; an xv insight that divines the prof oundest sources of human emotion and an art that expresses them with finished beauty. He was graduated at Yale in 1861, and for some years was engaged in business in California.
It is quite magical to me : 2176 days ago. My bird, my silver voice that cheered my prison, Hushed, lost to me : And still I wait for death, in chains, forsaken, Soon may the summons be! And the mother of the world Spake, and answered unto me, In the brook that past me purled ; In the bluebird s heavenly hue, When beyond his downward swerve Up he glanced, a sweep of blue ; In the sunshine s shifting spray, Drifted in beneath the tree Where I sheltered, lest its flood C 73 3 There outside should drown my blood ; In the cloud-pearl s melting curve ; In the little odorous thrill Trembling from each blossom-bell ; In the silence of the sky, And the thoughts that from it fell. Unto our world hope s daily oracles C 20 3 From their lips shall be brought ; And in our lives love s hourly miracles By them be wrought. For by and by The sun is coming up the sky ; All golden red the heavens will glow, All golden green the earth below ; The birds their rippling songs will sing, And wooing winds their spices bring : And then the Prince will hither come To wander mid his flowers, and some, Ah, favored blossoms! Early at morn, and at the evening late, A robe of shimmering silk she wove with care. Not me Yet what wild purpose can it be That tempted her to this wild land? Had Love Christ s wrath, and did this life sell doves In the world s temple, that Love scourged it forth Beyond the gates? For hours she wandered where her footsteps led, Till a long glance of open sunlight lay As red as gold upon her lifted, eager head. What would the great world lose, I wonder- Would it be missed or no If we stayed in the opal morning, Floating forever so? I have stood up alone these many years ; Now let me come and lie upon my face, And spread my hands among the dewy grass, Till the slow wind s mesmeric touches pass Above my brain, and all its throbbing chase ; Into thy bosom take these bitter tears, And let them seem unto the innocent flowers Only as dew, or heaven s gentle showers ; Till, quieted and hushed against thy breast, I can forget to weep, And sink at last to sleep, Long sleep and rest.
Swift the weeks are on the wing; Years are brief, and love a thing n 253 3 Blooming, fading, like a flower; Wake and seize the little hour. The savage crossed the lake, and we the sea. I wish I had not uttered that wild cry ; It broke with such a shock upon the air, Whose leaden silence closed up after it, And seemed to clap together at my ears. Brightened with glimpse and gleam Of mother- wit There is more salt in it, More germ and sperm Of the great things to be, Than louder notes men speak and sing. Perchance perchance : yet need it be that He Who planted us is the Head-gardener? We met all four by the farmyard gate, We parted laughing, with half a sigh, And home we went, at a quicker rate, A shorter journey, my friend and I. I know the round worlds draw from far.
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And better than the bright blue sky, To know that far away Sweep all the silent host of stars Behind the veil of day. C Only babes whimper, And sick men wail, And faint hearts and feeble hearts And weaklings fail. Some new freedom to abuse, Some old trouble to depart? But when that transient glory dies Into the twilight gray, And leaves me on the beach alone Beside the glimmering bay ; And when I know that, late or soon, Love s glory finds a grave, And hearts that danced like dancing foam Break like the breaking wave ; C A little dreary, homeless thought Creeps sadly over me, Like the shadow of a lonely cloud Moving along the sea. Let the man s mind awake to manhood s power. It was a brother s gift.
Each crimson leaf of every autumn walk, Dewdrops of childhood s mornings, every scene From any window where we ve chanced to stand, Forgotten sunsets, summer afternoons, Hang fresh in those immortal galleries. While wandering breaths of mignonette In at the open window come, I send my thoughts afar, and let Them paint your Christmas Day at home. I will arise and shout, and hear at least My own voice answer. In the forest, sweet The shade, the peace! Hour after hour, though might she smile or weep, Still ran the golden or the glooming thread. We all have a mission.
