“O dearest mother! tell me, pray,
Why are the dew-drops gone so soon?
Could they not stay till close of day,
To sparkle on the flowery spray,
Or on the fields till noon?”
The mother gazed upon her boy,
Earnest with thought beyond his years,
And felt a sharp and sad annoy,
That meddled with her deepest joy,
But she restrained her tears.
“My child, ’tis said such beauteous things,
Too often loved with vain excess,
Are swept away by angel wings,
Before contamination clings
To their frail loveliness.
“Behold yon rainbow, brightening yet,
To which all mingled hues are given!
There are thy dew-drops, grandly set
In a resplendent coronet
Upon the brow of heaven.
“No stain of earth can reach them there,
Woven with sunbeams there they shine,
A transient vision of the air,
But yet a symbol, pure and fair,
Of love and peace divine.”
The boy gazed upward into space,
With eager and inquiring eyes,
While o’er his fair and thoughtful face
Came a faint glory, and a grace
Transmitted from the skies.
Ere the last odorous sigh of May,
That child lay down beneath the sod;
Like dew, his young soul passed away,
To mingle with the brighter day
That veils the throne of God.
Mother, thy fond, foreboding heart
Truly foretold thy loss and pain;
But thou didst choose the patient part
Of resignation to the smart,
And owned thy loss his gain.
Mercy.
God looked, and smiled upon the wakening earth,
In form, power, motion, wondrous and complete-
Which in the flush and beauty of new birth
Breasted the seas of ether at His feet.
Forth with companion worlds, that throbbed and shone
With warmth and light transmitted from His throne,
On noiseless axles ever spinning round,
She took her radiant way along the vast profound.
God called to Him three ministers, who wait
Unceasing on His wise and sovereign will,
Servants, and yet partakers of His state,
And watchers of all human good and ill;
An angel-formed triumvirate, with air
Of lofty thought beaming from foreheads bare,
August in presence as they were in name,
And clothed in flowing robes of many-coloured flame.
Justice was one, in aspect calm and cold,
With a severe, but not oppressive mien;
Another Truth, with brow sublimely bold,
And onward looks, all radiant and serene;
The last was Mercy, whose consoling eyes
Caught the reflection of celestial skies,
Mercy, with beauteous and beseeching face,
And wedded hands upraised with supplicating grace.
“Let us make Man, for, lo! yon lovely sphere,
Which in its amplitude of orbit rolls,
Shall be-ye bright Intelligences, hear!-
Place of probation for immortal souls;
There shall Man dwell-there shall he rule and reign,
But not exempt from sinfulness and pain,
Yet destined, ‘mid his troubles and his storms,
To people boundless Heaven with countless angel forms.
“Oh, make him not!” cried justice; “I foresee
That he will trample on Thy sacred laws,
Doubt, question, violate Thy great decree,
Feel his own being, yet deny its cause.”
“Oh, make him not!” cried Truth; “for he will toil
‘Gainst Thee and me, and ruthlessly despoil
Thy sanctuaries, grow corrupt and vain,
Worship himself, and scorn Thy everlasting reign.”
“Create this being, good and gracious Lord!”
Said gentle Mercy, with imploring look-
“And I will guide him by Thy precious Word,
The wisdom of Thy yet unwritten Book;
My voice shall move him with mysterious power;
My wings shall shield him in the perilous hour;
I’ll check, subdue, inspire, as best I may,
The soul thou deign’st to breathe into the form of clay.”
“Even so be it!” And Man straightway was born,
Richly endued, and full of love and trust;
Serene, pure, happy, was his early morn,
Till the dread Tempter bowed him to the dust;
Then shame, and sorrow, and recurrent sin,
Shook his best nature, soiled the shrine within;
But Mercy pleaded, and God sent him light
To cheer his darkling soul, and guide his steps aright.
Let’s take the angel Mercy to our heart,
And with her walk the rugged paths of life;
List to her teachings; learn the exalted art
That conquers hatred, prejudice, and strife.
Not Truth, nor justice, must we put away,
But lean towards Mercy whensoe’er we may;
Forgive our brother, be ourselves forgiven,
And thus by gentlest deeds sue for the smiles of Heaven.
(John Critchley Prince)
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Based on Topics: Love Poems, Man Poems, God Poems, Life Poems, Sadness Poems, Soul Poems, Nature Poems, Faces Poems, Joy & Excitement Poems, Heaven Poems, Fairness PoemsBased on Keywords: sinfulness, supplicating, sanctuaries, whensoe, partakers, intelligences, contamination, triumvirate, meddled, be-ye