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Swiftly I shrivel at the thought of God,
At Nature and its wonders, Time and Space and Death,
But that I, turning, call to thee O soul, thou actual Me,
And lo, thou gently masterest the orbs,
Thou matest Time, smilest content at Death,
And fillest, swellest full the vastnesses of Space.
Greater than stars or suns,
Bounding O soul thou journeyest forth;
What love than thine and ours could wider amplify?
What aspirations, wishes, outvie thine and ours O soul?
What dreams of the ideal ? what plans of purity, per-

fection, strength ?
What cheerful willingness for others' sake to give up all ?
For others' sake to suffer all ?
Reckoning ahead O soul, when thou, the time achiev'd,
The seas all cross'd, weather'd the capes, the voyage done,
Surrounded, copest, frontest God, yieldest, the aim attain'd,
As filld with friendship, love complete, the Elder Brother

found, The Younger melts in fondness in his arms.

9 Passage to more than India! Are thy wings plumed indeed for such far Alights ? O soul, voyagest thou indeed on voyages like those ? Disportest thou on waters such as those ? Soundest below the Sanscrit and the Vedas ? Then have thy bent unleash'd. Passage to you, your shores, ye aged fierce enigmas! Passage to you, to mastership of you, you strangling prob

lems! You, strew'd with the wrecks of skeletons, that, living,

never reach'd you. Passage to more than India! O secret of the earth and sky! Of you O waters of the sea ! O winding creeks and rivers !

Of you O woods and fields ! of you strong mountains of

my land!

Of you O prairies ! of you gray rocks !
O morning red ! O clouds! O rain and snows!
O day and night, passage to you !
O sun and moon and all you stars ! Sirius and Jupiter !
Passage to you!
Passage, immediate passage! the blood burns in my veins !
Away O soul! hoist instantly the anchor !
Cut the hawsers — haul out - shake out every sail !
Have we not stood here like trees in the ground long

enough? Have we not groveld here long enough, eating and drink

ing like mere brutes ? Have we not darken'd and dazed ourselves with books long

enough? Sail forth steer for the deep waters only, Reckless O soul, exploring, I with thee, and thou with me, For we are bound where mariner has not yet dared to go, And we will risk the ship, ourselves and all. O my brave soul ! O farther farther sail ! O daring joy, but safe! are they not all the seas of God? O farther, farther, farther sail !


A batter'd, wreck'd old man,
Thrown on this savage shore, far, far from home,
Pent by the sea and dark rebellious brows, twelve dreary

Sore, stiff with many toils, sicken’d and nigh to death,
I take my way along the island's edge,
Venting a heavy heart.
I am too full of woe!
Haply I may not live another day;

I cannot rest O God, I cannot eat or drink or sleep,
Till I put forth myself, my prayer, once more to Thee,
Breathe, bathe myself once more in Thee, commune with

Report myself once more to Thee.
Thou knowest my years entire, my life,
My long and crowded life of active work, not adoration

merely ; Thou knowest the prayers and vigils of my youth, Thou knowest my manhood's solemn and visionary medi

tations, Thou knowest how before I commenced I devoted all to

come to Thee, Thou knowest I have in age ratified all those vows and

strictly kept them, Thou knowest I have not once lost nor faith nor ecstasy

in Thee, In shackles, prison'd, in disgrace, repining not, Accepting all from Thee, as duly come from Thee. All my emprises have been fill’d with Thee, My speculations, plans, begun and carried on in thoughts

of Thee, Sailing the deep or journeying the land for Thee; Intentions, purports, aspirations mine, leaving results to

Thee. O I am sure they really came from Thee, The urge, the ardor, the unconquerable will, The potent, felt, interior command, stronger than words, A message from the Heavens whispering to me even in

sleep, These sped me on. By me and these the work so far accomplish’d, By me earth's elder cloy’d and stifled lands uncloy'd, un

loos’d, By me the hemispheres rounded and tied, the unknown to

the known,

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The end I know not, it is all in Thee,
Or small or great I know not — haply what broad fields,

what lands, Haply the brutish measureless human undergrowth I know, Transplanted there may rise to stature, knowledge worthy

Thee, Haply the swords I know may there indeed be turn'd to

reaping-tools, Haply the lifeless cross I know, Europe's dead cross, may

bud and blossom there.

One effort more, my altar this bleak sand;
That Thou O God my life hast lighted,
With ray of light, steady, ineffable, vouchsafed of Thee,
Light rare untellable, lighting the very light,
Beyond all signs, descriptions, languages;
For that o God, be it my latest word, here on my knees,
Old, poor, and paralyzed, I thank Thee. .
My terminus near,
The clouds already closing in upon me,
The voyage balk'd, the course disputed, lost,
I yield my ships to Thee.
My hands, my limbs grow nerveless,
My brain feels rack’d, bewilder’d,
Let the old timbers part, I will not part,
I will cling fast to Thee, O God, though the waves buffet

Thee, Thee at least I know.
Is it the prophet's thought I speak, or am I raving ?
What do I know of life? what of myself?
I know not even my own work past or present,
Dim ever-shifting guesses of it spread before me,
Of newer better worlds, their mighty parturition,
Mocking, perplexing me.
And these things I see suddenly, what mean they?
As if some miracle, some hand divine unseald my eyes,

Shadowy vast shapes smile through the air and sky,
And on the distant waves sail countless ships,
And anthems in new tongues I hear saluting me.



Have you

To think of time — of all that retrospection,
To think of to-day, and the ages continued henceforward.
Have you guess'd you yourself would not continue?

dreaded these earth-beetles ?
Have you fear’d the future would be nothing to you?
Is to-day nothing ? is the beginningless past nothing ?
If the future is nothing they are just as surely nothing.
To think that the sun rose in the east — that men and

women were flexible, real, alive — that every thing was

alive, To think that you and I did not see, feel, think, nor bear

our part, To think that we are now here and bear our part.


Not a day passes, not a minute or second without an ac

couchement, Not a day passes, not a minute or second without a corpse. The dull nights go over and the dull days also, The soreness of lying so much in bed goes over, The physician after long putting off gives the silent and

terrible look for an answer, The children come hurried and weeping, and the brothers

and sisters are sent for, Medicines stand unused on the shelf, (the camphor-smell

has long pervaded the rooms,) The faithful hand of the living does not desert the hand of

the dying, The twitching lips press lightly on the forehead of the


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