Poems (Chitwood)/Daleria's Temptation
DALERIA'S TEMPTATION.
"One little blow and it will all be o'er.Then shall the heavy bitterness of lifeFall as the pilgrim's bundle at the sightOf the pearl gates around the land of rest.Then shall I cease to hear the secret sob,The stifled moanings, daily rising upTo the white throne of pity. Fate hath dealt But hardly with me, and my woof of lifeIs formed of shreds of darkness, with a lineOf golden lustre shining here and there.Oh, day by day, I hear a heart-string break;And the faint beating at the throne of lifeGrows softer, as the plash of waters whenA bird's wing hath but fann'd them. I wouldLoose the silvery bands and be at rest.
Oh Thou, whose name is Love, who mad'st all hearts,—Some as the mountain eagle's soaring stillThrough storms and tempests, and the beating rain,To the bright sunshine, far above the clouds,—Did'st make mine own e'en as the woodland doveThat hides the arrow 'neath its shining wings,And, in the glen's deep heart, sinks down to die,Alone. O wilt not Thou forgive the poor,Weak wanderer, that, trembling, asks from TheeThe wide arms of protection?—Thou whose feetLeft their meek impress on the shores of earth,Whose home was with the lowly, who didst castAside the sparkling diadem of powerFor the sharp thorn-crown and the manger bed;Oh, wilt not Thou forgive, if, weak and faint,I come, unsummoned, and bow down besideThe snowy gates of mercy? let me come,For earth is pitiless, and cold, and drear.
Thus spake Daleria, one fair summer's night,When sunset's kiss was on the cherry lips Of smiling June, and a crowd of starsGleamed on her sunny tresses; when young MaySeemed glancing backward through the half shut gates,Of the ripe seasons,—From old Nature's breastWelled up full notes of music; but they foundNo harp string yet unbroken in the heartOf fair Daleria. Oh, are the wingsOf every guardian angel folded up,That they may leave no drop of love, or hope,In their soft wavings, on her snowy brow?Have heaven and earth forsaken? Is there noInvisible hand wherein her own may restFor one brief moment, till it lead her backFrom the dark waters?Now her fair lips move,And let us listen to the words they speak."'Tis o'er, 'tis o'er, and I am strong again.The tempter hath no power; my heart is rock—I could walk on, o'er deserts and wide plainsOf burning heat, and faint or falter not.Yes, e'en this weight of gloom, that nigh hath pressedMy erring feet to ruin, is a shieldWith which to win the victory; and nowI would not loose the slightest tic that bindsThe burden of my grief. I glorifyThe trial, till it seems the furnace hotWherein my heart's pure gold was purified.Yes, yes, I feel so strong, that. were the loveI would have died for; now all, all my own, I could tear every clasping from my soul,And cast it, with no sigh, or tear, intoOblivion's waters deep. Ah yes, methinksThe wrestler with the heart, the weary one,Who fights fierce battles with the giant will,And comes off victor, wins a glory-crown,Starr'd with more jewels than the spirit doesThat ne'er hath felt temptation—as the oakGathers new strength and root with tempests, tillIt sways not with the storm."Oh, earth is fair!The blue sky hath its stars, the fair earth, flowers,The waters, pearls, the forest, sweetest birds,The clouds, rich treasures of the tinkling rain,The day its sunshine, and the night its moon,The humblest bud, a dewdrop, or a heartBrimful of odors. If no nook nor spot,—No object of dear Nature is bereftWholly of beauty, sure the human heart,The mightiest of them all, can not be leftWithout a flower. or star, or gem, or bird,To keep it vital. No, ah no, it hasTen thousand blessings left; and I will tearFrom my dim eyes the mantle full of dust,And go, untrembling. through the change that liesBetween me and the path that slopes awayToward the high city of eternal peace.