New-York tribune., 1868-01-20

Hoofed Karnak's hall of gold and laid
The pinths of Philes colonnade.
Still less He owns the selfish good
And sickly growth Of solitude
The worthless grace that, ont oi slght,
Flowers in the desert anchOrite;
discovered from the suffering whole.
Love hath no power 10 save Il soul.
Not ont of Self. the origin
And native air and soil Of sin,
The living waters spring and now.
The trees with leaves Of healing grow.
Dream not, 0 friend because | seek
This quiet shelter twice q week.
| better deem its pine-laid floor
Than breezy hill or sea-sung shore.
But here, in its accustomed place,
| look on mem0ry's dearest face;
The blind by-sitter guesseth not
What shadow haunts that vacant spot
No eye save mine alone can see
The love wherewith IL welcomes me
And still with those alone my KIN.
I'm doubt and weakness, want and sin,
| bow my head, my heart ! bare
As when that face was living there,
And strive (toO oft. alas In VAIN
The rest of simple trust 70 gain;
Fold fancy's restless wings. and lay
The idols of mY heart away.
Welcome the silence all unbroken.
Nor lcss tho works Of fitness spoken
Our Autumn flowers have just made room;
Whose hopeful utteTance through and througl
The freshness OF the morning blew
Who loved not less the earth that light
Fell on il from the heavens in sight.
But saw in all fair forms more fair
The Eternal beauty mirrored there.
Whose eighty years but added grace
And santlier meaning To her face,-
The look of one who bore away
Glad tldIuQs from the hills OF day,
While all our hearts went forth 10 meet
The coming Of her beautiful feet
] ask no organs soulless breath
10 drone the themes of life and death
No altar candle-lit by day,
No ornate wOrdsman's rhet0ric-plaY
No cool philosopher 20 teach
His bland audaclties of speech
To dOuble-tasksd idOIateTs
Themselves their gods and worshipcrs.
No pulpit beat by ruthless fist
OF loud-aSserting dogmatist,
Who bOrrows for the hand OF love
The smoking tbunderbolts of Jovc.
/ know how well the fathers taught.
What work the later schoolmen wfougf
reverence old-time faith and men,
But God is near us now a. then;
His force OF love is still uDspent,
His hate of sin rs imminent;
And still tho measure of our needs
Outgrows the crampng bounds OF croedo;
The mamma gathered yesterday
Already sayOTs of decay
Doubts to the worlds child heart unknown
Question us now from star and stone;
Too little or too much we know.
And sight is swift and faith Is slow;
The power is lost To self-deceiye
With shallow forms of make believe.
We walk at high noon. and the bells
Call To a thousand oracles,
But the sound deafens, and the light
Is stronger than our daZzled sight,
The letters of the sacred Book
Glimmer and swim beneath our look,
Still struggles In the Ages breast
With deepening agony OF quest
The old entreaty: Art thou He.
Or look We for the Christ 10 be &
God should be most where man il leas
So where Is neither church nor prizes
And never rag Of form or creed
TO clothe the nakedness of need
Where farmer folk in silence meet
turn my bel-unsummoned feet;
lay the critics glass aside,
tread upon my lettered pride.
And, lowest seated, testify
To the oneness of humanity;
Confess the universal want,
And share whatever Heaven may grant
He iindeth not who seeks bis own.
The soul is lost that's saved alone.
Not on one favored forehead fell
OF old the fire-tongued miracle,
But famed all DER the thronging host
The baptism of the Holy Ghost:
Heart answers heart; in one desire
The blending lines of prayer aspire:
Where, in my name, meet two or three
Our Lord hath said, / there VIII be-
So sometimes comes TO soul and sense
The feeling which is evidence
That very near about us lies
The realm of spiritual mysteries.
The sphere of tho snpernal powers
Impinges on this world of ours.
The low and dark horizon lifts,
To light the scenic terror shifts;
The breath of a diyiner air
Blows down the answer Of prayer
That all our sorrow, pain and doubt
A great compassion clasps about,
And law and goodness, love and force,
Are welded fast beyond divorce.
Then duty leaves TO love its task.
The beggar Self forgets 10 ask;
With smile Of trust and folded hands.
The passive soul In waiting stands
To feel, IA flowers, the sun and dew.
The One true life its own renew.
SO, to the calmly gathered thought
The nnermost Of truth is taught.
The mystery understood.
That love of God IL love Of good.
That TO be saved is only this
Salvation from our selhshness;
That Book and Church and Day aro given
For man, not GOd.-iOr earth not heaYcu,-
The blessed means to holiest ends,
Not masters, but benignant friends:
That the dear Christ dwells not aflr
The king of some remOter star,
Listening, at times, with flattered ear
TO homage wrong from selfish fear,
But here, amidst the poor and blind
The bound and suffering Of our kind.
la works we do in prayers wo pray.
Life Of our life, he lives to-day"