Across the Sea and Other Poems. — Story, Setting & Ideas

There was a kindly smile upon his face As thus he spake to me--"Here have I dwelt For centuries, yet I have never felt The winds of heaven upon my forehead, nor Will they e'er visit this spell-haunted place.

Your gaily-painted barge will wait in vain For favoring winds to fill its silken sail. If you would ever leave these drowsy shores Your crew must sweep the waters from their oars. To win the Blessed Headland o'er the main, But tireless strength and effort will avail."

I gazed adown the barge; the silent men Toyed with their oars, awaiting my command; The first was "Courage"--quick to see and dare, And next came "Patience," he as ready e'er To calm an angry brow to peace, and then Came "Justice"--"Knowledge" sat at his right hand.

I held the rudder. No hand but mine own Could guide the mystic barge across the sea. But in the bow stood "Faith," whose vision keen Discerns what mortal eye hath never seen, And when a mist across the deep is blown, Sendeth sweet messages of hope to me.

Why tarry ye, O men? the way is long To yonder hazy Headland's wave-worn base. We wait in vain for favoring winds to blow, 'Tis yours to pull the oars. Row, bravely, row, Keep even stroke, ye merry hearts, with song, And lead the swift sea-birds a winning race.

The willing oarsmen heard the words, and bent Them to the toil; but "Knowledge" had not heard, And still he dreamed upon his trailing oar, Until the barge had rounded to the shore We scarce had left. In vain the labor spent. The old man smiled again. The swift sea-bird

Such rivalry would never fear, said he, "Knowledge" must pull with "Courage"; "Justice," too, Must draw his stroke with "Patience," else your barge, Despite your strength, will never leave the marge, But still in weary revolutions be A vanity of vanities to you.

These words to you in parting. O beware In seeking heaven, lest you despise the earth; Heaven is both what we are and where we go, And we are heaven-builders here below; Alike we take it and we find it there, And heaven is worth to us what we are worth.

God hath the earth to heaven in marriage given, See how the ocean yieldeth tenderly The penciled shadow of the morning bars Whereon, like notes of music, rest the stars. Ah! listen, for the azure dome of heaven Is echoing now the music of the sea.

Love wisely then the earth, and you shall love The Holy City where the angels dwell. The gentle light of love will never bring The circling moth upon his dusty wing. No thief will steal, no rust corrode above, Nor in your heart--if love be there. Farewell.

So to their oars my boatmen, cheerily, Bent once again, and then, with steady stroke, They drew upon the waters till the shore Grew lower in the distance, and no more Thro' the gray mist the mentor I could see, But oft I thought upon the words he spoke.

And oft, O wise Experience, have I found The lesson true you taught to me that day. _No progress but by toil, and there must be In heart and mind a vital unity._ Our days are else in vain, and ne'er will bound The "Barge of Time" upon the heavenly way.

But soon the ripple of an adverse tide,-- Whose darkling bitter waters seemed to stay The prow,--twined like a sea-weed growth the oars; A tide that hies forever from the shores I sought, and with its soft caresses, wide And far, bears hapless wanderers away.

Yet gallant are the boats that drift along; Proud are the hearts that float where flows the tide. The youth whose heated fancy sees afar The promise of ambition's streaming star, And he who follows with a careless song Some godless passion he has deified.

The man of curling lip and brow of scorn, The worshiper of reason and of self, The atheist, wanton, and the giddy maid, The faith-betrayer and the love-betrayed; Self-righteous pharisees, who would adorn Or hide with pious garb their love of pelf.

The poet with a poem on his lip, The writer with an essay in his heart, The statesman with a law within his brain, The merchant princes busy with their gain; Dreamers who reck not that their barges slip Upon a tide from which so few may part.