20.11.2008, 19:46
Isabella J. Southern
SONNETS OF THE CITY.
THE OLD CASTLE.
Thou dark and rugged relic of fierce days,
If it be true that every surging sound
Doth leave its trace, in striking and rebound,
How strangely pictured to a piercing gaze
Were thy grim masonry : what stirring lays
Of border strife, of town-bred tumult found
Upo n thy walls would on the heart resound,
All mingled with the tones of prayer and praise;
For Sabbath bells and holy anthems ring
Around thy battlements in war or peace;
Defacing stains of toil upon thee cling,
A n d at thy feet the waves of life increase,
As one by one the generations sing
Their songs of love and hate, which never cease !
THE CATHEDRAL.
A landmark thou ; thy lantern sings above
T he crowded thoroughfares that hem thee in,
A song of steadfast peace all men may win
By consecrating earthly life and love
T o that great Power in which me n live and move,
Resistless in its hatred of all sin,
A nd merciful to those who truly win
Their freedom from a narrow, selfish groove.
T hy shadow falls upon the busy mart,
Reminding men of life's true aim and cause ;
T hy stones are annals of the Northern heart,
Its history is gathered round thy doors ;
A n d thou a sacred sanction canst impart
T o joy or sorrow, when the heart adores.
The Central Station
(fl. 1891)
The pulsing life blood of the City pours
Through thee its throbbing heart, unceasingly;
Along thy gleaming ways the current roars
In mingled tragedy and comedy.
Strange scenes from stranger lives, upon thy floors
Without rehearsal acted, thou dost see;
And sad farewells of those who leave our shores,
Bright marriage joy, and death's dark pageantry.
A link thou seemest in the lengthening chain
Which binds this land to that, and man to man,
Until on one great Brotherhood no stain
Of war remains, where once it wildly ran
A sleuth-hound, bringing ravage in its train.
Free intercourse like thine is hatred's ban!
THE CHURCH OF THE DIVINE UNITY
A monument art thou, of that long roll
Of earnest me n who fought on freedom's side ;
W h o strove to save th' aspiring, yearning soul
From prisons of the past, and open wide
The Infinite ; that to its long-closed goal—-
The bosom of the Father—o'er the tide
Of raging billows which around it roll,
The burthened heart may fly, and there abide!
A protest in the past; for Faith to-day
Thou standest firmly, full of fresh fire caught
From ever-growing, ever-widening thought,
Which onward, upward, cleaves its glorious way,
And will not, dare not, in the partial stay,
Constrained to find the On e each soul hath sought.
THE PUBLIC LIBRARY.
Thou latest fledgling of fair Learning's brood,
T hy ample chambers echo 'neath the tread
Of those who had, in olden time been led
Into the ghastly field of war, where stood
T he jealous barons, careless that the food
Of wailing women, and weak children's bread,
Depended on the me n who m they have said
Shall fight unto the death! Not thine this mood;
Thou callest men to learn the arts of peace,
Hast gathered on thy, shelves a mighty store
Of living words, which fell from me n of yore,
T he seed corn of a harvest, to increase
Through coming years, a thousand-fold and more,
Until all bloodshed and fierce strife shall cease!
THE CEMENTERY.
Within thy grassy spaces, lowly laid
O ur loved ones lie; each grave's pathetic face
Sun-kissed, acquires a silent, sadd'ning grace
With velvet moss or gorgeous blooms arrayed.
The signs of wealth or poverty displayed
Are naught to those who wing through realms of space,
A n d know no rest save in the close embrace
Of Hi m to who m aspiring spirits prayed.
E'en here alas, man's narrow love is found;
But list, God laughs, His forces all deride
These false divisions of mere place and pride.
In hallowed or unconsecrated mound
T h e useless body lies beneath the ground;
N o pall or pomp, th' immortal soul can hide.
SONNETS OF THE CITY.
THE OLD CASTLE.
Thou dark and rugged relic of fierce days,
If it be true that every surging sound
Doth leave its trace, in striking and rebound,
How strangely pictured to a piercing gaze
Were thy grim masonry : what stirring lays
Of border strife, of town-bred tumult found
Upo n thy walls would on the heart resound,
All mingled with the tones of prayer and praise;
For Sabbath bells and holy anthems ring
Around thy battlements in war or peace;
Defacing stains of toil upon thee cling,
A n d at thy feet the waves of life increase,
As one by one the generations sing
Their songs of love and hate, which never cease !
THE CATHEDRAL.
A landmark thou ; thy lantern sings above
T he crowded thoroughfares that hem thee in,
A song of steadfast peace all men may win
By consecrating earthly life and love
T o that great Power in which me n live and move,
Resistless in its hatred of all sin,
A nd merciful to those who truly win
Their freedom from a narrow, selfish groove.
T hy shadow falls upon the busy mart,
Reminding men of life's true aim and cause ;
T hy stones are annals of the Northern heart,
Its history is gathered round thy doors ;
A n d thou a sacred sanction canst impart
T o joy or sorrow, when the heart adores.
The Central Station
(fl. 1891)
The pulsing life blood of the City pours
Through thee its throbbing heart, unceasingly;
Along thy gleaming ways the current roars
In mingled tragedy and comedy.
Strange scenes from stranger lives, upon thy floors
Without rehearsal acted, thou dost see;
And sad farewells of those who leave our shores,
Bright marriage joy, and death's dark pageantry.
A link thou seemest in the lengthening chain
Which binds this land to that, and man to man,
Until on one great Brotherhood no stain
Of war remains, where once it wildly ran
A sleuth-hound, bringing ravage in its train.
Free intercourse like thine is hatred's ban!
THE CHURCH OF THE DIVINE UNITY
A monument art thou, of that long roll
Of earnest me n who fought on freedom's side ;
W h o strove to save th' aspiring, yearning soul
From prisons of the past, and open wide
The Infinite ; that to its long-closed goal—-
The bosom of the Father—o'er the tide
Of raging billows which around it roll,
The burthened heart may fly, and there abide!
A protest in the past; for Faith to-day
Thou standest firmly, full of fresh fire caught
From ever-growing, ever-widening thought,
Which onward, upward, cleaves its glorious way,
And will not, dare not, in the partial stay,
Constrained to find the On e each soul hath sought.
THE PUBLIC LIBRARY.
Thou latest fledgling of fair Learning's brood,
T hy ample chambers echo 'neath the tread
Of those who had, in olden time been led
Into the ghastly field of war, where stood
T he jealous barons, careless that the food
Of wailing women, and weak children's bread,
Depended on the me n who m they have said
Shall fight unto the death! Not thine this mood;
Thou callest men to learn the arts of peace,
Hast gathered on thy, shelves a mighty store
Of living words, which fell from me n of yore,
T he seed corn of a harvest, to increase
Through coming years, a thousand-fold and more,
Until all bloodshed and fierce strife shall cease!
THE CEMENTERY.
Within thy grassy spaces, lowly laid
O ur loved ones lie; each grave's pathetic face
Sun-kissed, acquires a silent, sadd'ning grace
With velvet moss or gorgeous blooms arrayed.
The signs of wealth or poverty displayed
Are naught to those who wing through realms of space,
A n d know no rest save in the close embrace
Of Hi m to who m aspiring spirits prayed.
E'en here alas, man's narrow love is found;
But list, God laughs, His forces all deride
These false divisions of mere place and pride.
In hallowed or unconsecrated mound
T h e useless body lies beneath the ground;
N o pall or pomp, th' immortal soul can hide.