New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1871-09-19
STODDARD'S POEMS.


sim ,n,, In The S ~, Yrrr aw ;Ts S.,s may he.
Yo look for God, We tell ne. I, i ne this'-
Because yonr fathers told We 80, ana thcy
Because, of old, their fathers told them 50;
As j. now. So WAS 1t long aE", or
And " i'll be whon the years have passed. away
Notliue can c,idc nom no,liGe. We'll, what theni
The Earth, with al II men,
The little ir,,, bugrowirr il the sod
All tthimii:.Es tat are.
Must have been u''!c hy G"N
WHY made Gy limit VINO tJw them made
Who sIw ioo dep fem liticn> Hdi
Tie Hands that built tne wall
Why made at al
Why not EtcinI', til mcl Net because
ii 90 Errnal 10
''"' WIN va, mus, the ! i, a.
1t was, ami is, and Is. bccAnrc ii was!
There is no God thcnl Nay,
You say IT, and not |;
We have no, vet h,hcld this God on High
~, k@cT m ,99 n lie ri il i we i've, %9H te Gf
We fccI loves Kisses sweet
The wine that t1ps our feet
Gladncss about the heart when the sun N breaks
o. ttr OF moon j. floating UP the skies,
Delight i'll the wild sea, in tranquil lakes,
lnev'ry bird that flies;
When love. tie best Of cath its last kiss over dies,
Fnt lie whom We name God, and crepe so ioI above
or tic world, hollow HIM,
In ;hc dust hc'orc Him,
We may adore Him.
IT, indeed, He Ice, 10 hess or cnr>c,
And be not ibis Tremendous Cuv' rise!
"Higher than vour arrows fly.
Deeper than y0nr p!nLmtt> idll
Us the deepest, the Nest High,
II the All in AM
Several of the poems III this volume breathe
similar hopeless spirit. which is sometimes carried
to painful extent in the personal applications that
eyinco the poet, need OF communication rather than
the scruples of individual reserve. specimen OF
this class may be found in the following regretful,
though scarcely repentant, cfuson:
What shall do TO live arighti
Ny lie l. wrong. feel IL So
bear about a n!Uffed woe,
llerieh with halnolcNs blight.
When was younr suffered more,
But was happier. wiser then;
lived my life ike other men.
IhUrc the burdens j;iat thty bore.
There 4 sweetness then in tears;
There was bitterness i'll pain;
N"l sweet nov litt'r now remain,
They persisted With lLy early years.
lived, | knew not how ; huv now
know too well tie way Live;
But what doe. al my knowledge give
hollow heart, an aching brow
This is my sorrow; day aud night,
Inc 'c.Ic Of my trouhlcd song,
"My HE is wrong Ny life is wrong;
What shall do to make it lightl"
The blended EIicureansm and Stocism of these
brief stanzas which fo.1n consecutive trio in the
volume remind one of The Gocthean philosophy Of
life and nay perhaps be taken the practical creed
of the poet.
Iii, n Wintcrrisht
Aud thc stlly earth is white
With the hlow.lc of the lilies OF TIE snow
Once it Wa as rel
viii the roses Summer sh"d,
Bat the fed with SUMMER long ago
We sang a merry tunN,
la The Jolly days Of June,
And we danced ad0wn the garden III the light:
Now December : come,
Aud our hearts dark and dumb,
As VIC Luddle DER the rlnbcrs here tonight
What is lie, aud what are wei
Only ltaHCs urOn tree,
Grccn to-day, Tomorrow scar,
Then We are no longer here!
Others, fair and brave as we,
Grew, OF old upon the tree
Now they crumhlc in the mold,
With their histories untold.
80 shall We: it il our lot
Thus 10 die and he forgot:
BY and by the Tree viii fan,
One Oblivion waits for AL.
COURAGE AND PATIENCE
Life IL sad. because we know IT,.
Death nncahse We know II not
Every man must bear his lot.
Coward hearts who shrink and Ny,
Arc not III 10 live or die!
Knowing life we should not fear IL,
Neither death. for that's unknown;
coinage patience. these are virtues
Who has thcse--iud have not H.
He l. nj u i've and die!
The same strain is repeated in tho mystical lines
entitled
TIE MESSENGER AT NIGHT.
A face nt the window,
n TAP on the pane:
WHO il Il that wants NC
Tonight In the rain
have lighted my chamber
And brought out my wine,
For score Of good fellows
Were coming TO dine.
Tic dastards have failed me,
And ecEt IN the rain
The man al The window,
To tap On the pane