Poems (Griffith)/The Orphan's Dream of Fame
The Orphan's Dream of Fame.
I LEARNED within myself to live. I saw,E'en in my childhood, that the heart's bright buds Withered and faded at the touch. I turned From all life's empty, heartless mockeries, And wept my griefs away on Nature's breast. To me was given the deep and earnest love Of holy solitude. I strayed alone By rock and stream, and through the forest depths, And found a sweet and dear companionship In every sight and sound that greeted me In all my wayward wanderings.
I learned Glad music from the lark's free, gushing song, And my heart's sad and mournful minstrelsy Found sweet interpretation in the low And gentle wailings of the stricken dove. My spirit rocked upon the swinging tops Of the tall oaks; it danced upon the waves That leaped in light and music or in wrath Upon the shore; it rode upon the winds,Soft whispering to the softly whispering leaves, Or pealing like some deep-toned instrument Through the green banners of the wood; it sailed Upon the clouds that floated beautiful Or dark with tempest; and it wandered oft Above, to hold its joyous revelry With all the thousand spirit-shapes that bathed Their purple plumage in the rosy waves Flooding the sunset. My dear mother's smile, Caught by the stars from Eden, sweetly shone In their pure light on my uplifted eyes, And her soft words of cheer came to my soul On every gale of morn, and neon, and eve, And holy midnight. I was happy then, Ay, happy, my lost mother was in heaven, But Nature was my mother on the earth, And both seemed e'er to love me well.
At length There came a change. The maddening dream of fame, The wish to shine among earth's proudest, took Possession of my soul. No more I loved The voice of birds, the shouting of the stream, And the green surging of the woods. I bowed In seeming admiration of the throng, And felt my cheek burn and my pulses leap To the vile breath of those I could but hate Within my secret soul. The sneering thought That started fiercely upward from my heart, Brightened to smiles upon my lips; my brain Grew dizzy, and the tear was in my eye, If with rude hand my spirit's chords were jarred By those I longed to spurn beneath my feet. I wildly struggled for the world's applause, But trembled at the faintest word of blame. As 'twere the voice of destiny. I won The laurel crown, and with exulting heart I felt its thrilling pressure on my brow: But ah! a breath of poison from the crowd Passed o'er its blooming leaves, and nought remained But dust upon my temples. A bright name Was my soul's idol, but a feeble blow From hands unworthy, shattered and cast down That wildly worshipped idol from its shrine, For ever and for ever.
Now, alas! Joy, love, hope, pride, ambition, all are dead Within my breast. I smile in bitterness, To think with what a madness of the soul I sought a worthless bauble. Like a gleam Of moonlight from the mountain, or the flash Of an expiring meteor from the deep, Or the red glow of sunset from the west, That dream of fame has vanished from my life, And now I feel no pang of vain regret That it has perished thus.
But I look back With tears and sighs on the departed years, When breeze and billow chanted to my soulTheir morning hymn and evening psalm; when soft And beautiful night's silver crescent shone Upon my spirit, and when all the stars Were to my eyes God's living poetry, Traced by His hand upon the sky's blue scroll Ah! I am twice an orphan, for, alas! My mother Nature now is dead to me.
Louisville, 1852.