POETRY.
ORION. Lo ! with glittering sword And gleaming baldric The midnight Hunter, Star-clad Orion, Stands o'er the eastern hill, Lord of the darkling earth And shimmering sky.
Fair, as he shone for Job On the far wide plains of Us, He shines on our homely fields; Not dimmed is his glory, Nor loosed are his bands.
So was he seen of old By grave Chaldean watchers From that high tower of Bel Where, aloof and austere, They read man's fate in the stars..
Ah ! did they read the doom Of the swift decay, Of the long oblivion Waiting their place and pride P Their city is made a heap ; Desecrate, lost is their shrine ; Vanished are they and their dreams ;- But Orion still shines down On the great River And the spot where Babylon stood.
Yet in thy bright persistence Scorn not an ephemeral race Who gaze upon thee and die. We from this point of earth, We for this moment of time Hail thee and call thee ours ; —Ours by aspiring thought, By incantations of awe ; Oars ! though we are not thine.
What is great, what is little
Who shall declare P What scale.
Shall weigh the soul of man In the poise of the spheres ?
Thy starry perfection Knows not our weakness, Our tumult of heart and remorse;: But neither knowest thou Our joys, our grandeurs, The beat of the spirit's wings, Bright-eyed devotion of heroes, Death-conquering rapture of Love...
But peace! shall the vaunting Of a garrulous earth-dweller Profane that far splendour And solemn stillness ?
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