Poems (Argent)/A Dream of Home
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A DREAM OF HOME.
IF I might choose my dwelling-place, I only,
It should be far away where uplands rise,
And Nature reigns around all pure and lonely,
And yet not sad beneath her sunlit skies.
It should be far away where uplands rise,
And Nature reigns around all pure and lonely,
And yet not sad beneath her sunlit skies.
It should be where the waving forest arches
Meet high in air (as kindred spirits meet),
Where the sweet music of a thousand larches
Whisper their faint, fair songs of solace sweet.
Meet high in air (as kindred spirits meet),
Where the sweet music of a thousand larches
Whisper their faint, fair songs of solace sweet.
I know the spot right well; all day serenely
The glorious hills encircle it around,
And whitely bloom the water-lilies queenly
With God's own mystic meaning o'er them crowned.
The glorious hills encircle it around,
And whitely bloom the water-lilies queenly
With God's own mystic meaning o'er them crowned.
The busy din of cities, vast, stupendous,
The fretful jar of men who lose their soul
In gaining money by a force tremendous,
As if life ended at so poor a goal,
The fretful jar of men who lose their soul
In gaining money by a force tremendous,
As if life ended at so poor a goal,
Should not come near to vex me with its sadness,
But this dear river, at its "own sweet will,"
Should bring to me its message of pure gladness,
Its lofty watchword to go "onward" still!
But this dear river, at its "own sweet will,"
Should bring to me its message of pure gladness,
Its lofty watchword to go "onward" still!
If I might choose! within these sloping meadows
Where nature heals the spirit's inner moan,
My friends should walk within the lovely shadows,
The ones who love me for MYSELF alone,
Where nature heals the spirit's inner moan,
My friends should walk within the lovely shadows,
The ones who love me for MYSELF alone,
Should walk beside me with kind arms enfolden
Round me by reason of their love divine,
And, like the ancients in the ages olden,
Should worship God 'neath Nature's leafy shrine!
Round me by reason of their love divine,
And, like the ancients in the ages olden,
Should worship God 'neath Nature's leafy shrine!
Not like a hermit would I live to ponder,
For friendship with her steady torch should burn
Within my walls, where those I loved should wander,
And to whose hearts mine own would gladly turn.
For friendship with her steady torch should burn
Within my walls, where those I loved should wander,
And to whose hearts mine own would gladly turn.
The heart must crave a heart to rest on sweetly,
The soul, a soul, to feed its higher fires,
And kindred spirits to make up completely
All that a human creature most desires!
The soul, a soul, to feed its higher fires,
And kindred spirits to make up completely
All that a human creature most desires!
If I might choose, the summer should reign ever,
A peerless bride 'mid snowy belts of flowers,
And winter, robed in ice and snow, should never
Come to displace her bright voluptuous hours.
A peerless bride 'mid snowy belts of flowers,
And winter, robed in ice and snow, should never
Come to displace her bright voluptuous hours.
Myrtles should bloom within my garden closes,
The bee's low murmur float upon the air
From morn till eve, and the soft-scented roses
Should blow for ever beautiful and fair.
The bee's low murmur float upon the air
From morn till eve, and the soft-scented roses
Should blow for ever beautiful and fair.
What care I for Society's harsh uses,
The cold restraint, the feelings tired and old?
The frigid handshake, and the fierce abuses
Of souls all bartered for the lust of gold?
The cold restraint, the feelings tired and old?
The frigid handshake, and the fierce abuses
Of souls all bartered for the lust of gold?
The hollow mask, Frivolity's last fashion,
The life without an aim? the careless throng,
Unheeding of the tide of human passion,
The undercurrent moving swift and strong?
The life without an aim? the careless throng,
Unheeding of the tide of human passion,
The undercurrent moving swift and strong?
Away! away! all these I'd fly to-morrow
If T might choose wherein to find true rest;
The grand old hills would smile away my sorrow,
Keep watch and ward above a wearied breast.
If T might choose wherein to find true rest;
The grand old hills would smile away my sorrow,
Keep watch and ward above a wearied breast.
Sweet Nature, with your myriad cheerful changes,
Your waving tresses in laburnum trees,
Your stately heathers and your moated granges,
Your rocky coasts and your tremendous seas!
Your waving tresses in laburnum trees,
Your stately heathers and your moated granges,
Your rocky coasts and your tremendous seas!
Your hoary oaks, the aspen's painful quiver,
The river grasses that my spirit hears
Upon the reedy banks of yonder river,
That drowns itself in jets of pearly tears.
The river grasses that my spirit hears
Upon the reedy banks of yonder river,
That drowns itself in jets of pearly tears.
I care not for the world, the gorgeous city
That lies all rotten at its inmost care,
But that T feel within a deep, deep pity
Of what must be, till "time shall be no more."
That lies all rotten at its inmost care,
But that T feel within a deep, deep pity
Of what must be, till "time shall be no more."
The stillness of the country and its beauty,
The little lives that burst upon our sight,
The sense of peace and pleasant round of duty—
All these sum up a life serenely bright.
The little lives that burst upon our sight,
The sense of peace and pleasant round of duty—
All these sum up a life serenely bright.
If I might choose the spot where I would solely
Rest with a sense of happiness to come,
It should be in the country rapt and holy,
A spot a wearied spirit might call—Home.
Rest with a sense of happiness to come,
It should be in the country rapt and holy,
A spot a wearied spirit might call—Home.