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Title: The Spirit Of The Air
Author: Walter R. Cassels [
More Titles by Cassels]
A spirit came to me on the breeze
Sweet with the breath of the orange trees,
Floated about me, and murmur'd soft,
"O Poet! wilt fly with me far aloft?
"And I will show thee the realms of space
"Where the lightning can find no resting place.
"We will away to the home of morn,
"And see the first youngling sunbeams born.
"We will away to the cave of Night,
"And wake the echoes to sudden fright,
"And then we'll wander among the stars
"And mark the roll of their golden cars?"--
"Spirit! I'll go with thee through the sky,
"For my soul pants ever to soar on high,
"If thou wilt bear me upon thy wings,
"And guide me amid our bright wanderings."
Swiftly we went through the sunny air,
Higher than ever the skylark dare,
And the bright clouds where the summer beams
Slumber and revel in golden dreams,
Lay far beneath us like dewy fumes
Hovering over the flower-blooms.
Higher we went till the puny Earth
Dwindled away to an atom girth,
And the record of our rapid way
Was the far death of a starry ray;
Then we drew nigh to the palace bright
Where morning treasures her dewy light,
Cool'd by the breath of the angels' wings,
And sweet with their musical utterings.
There we saw the young day-beams awaken,
And the earth's rays from their soft tresses shaken,
And there we saw the sweet zephyrs rise,
That woo the flowers with gentle sighs,
And kiss the mist from the streamlet's tide,
As tears are kiss'd from a happy bride;
The angels of Joy and bliss were there,
Lapt in the folds of the balmy air,
Breathing their paeans till far away
The echoes went with the light of day;
The spirit said, "Hence the ray of morn,
"Like a poor child unto sorrow born,
"Wends to the earth with sweet smiles uplit,
"And from the darkness awakens it;
"But though it whisper of peace and love,
"And tell the world of the joys above,
"They will not hearken unto the voice
"Whose accents faint make the flowers rejoice,
"But still grovel on in strife and sorrow,
"And make the signal of war, 'the morrow.'"
Onward we went through the heavens afar
Swift as the course of a shooting star,
Until dark shadows began to fall
Around our way, like a funeral pall,
Deeper and deeper, and then the gloom
Grew thick as it were the Night's own tomb;
There was no sound save the rushing wave
Closing the furrow our passing clave;
There was no sound save the beating heart,
That at its own throbbings seemed to start;
There was no sound save the ebb and flow
Of my own breathing drawn long and low;
Then the air-spirit gave forth a cry
That rang through the arches of the sky,
Whereat a myriad echoes leapt
Forth from the darkness 'mid which they slept,
Shouted an answer in fierce surprise,
That rumbled far into faintest sighs,
Then slowly sank to their rest again,
And left the Night to her silent reign.
On we went whilst the sounds grew dimmer,
Till stars afar began to glimmer
Like flashing lights on a lonely mere,
Like tapers dim round a sable bier;
Onward, till many a radiant world
In solemn glory across us whirl'd,
Shaking the air in their mighty march,
Like thunder beneath its prison arch;
Ever louder the swift wind bore us
The swell of their eternal chorus,
Filling the soul of the boundless sky
With strains of adoring harmony.
Past us came Mars all fiery and red,
Like a warrior stain'd with the blood he shed;
And his voice o'er all rang clear and high
Pealing for ever Truth's battle-cry;
Saturn came with his blazing ring,
Like a crown round the brows of a Titan king,
Circled by many a satellite,
That made his pathway through heaven bright;
The star of eve like a maiden sphere,
Gleaming with beauty and grace, drew near,
Sweeping along 'mid heaven's panoply,
The sweetest and fairest child of the sky;
Onward they came in myriad lines
From space whereon the sun never shines,
But fades away like a twinkling star
'Neath orbs whose glory is greater far;
Many a beautiful world appear'd,
Such as not even Fancy hath rear'd,
Sinless and happy as Heaven will be,
And stamp'd with the seal of Eternity.
But sadly we sank to Earth again,
And heard the discord and strife of men,
Like a harp that jars from a sudden fall,
And turns to discord tones musical.
[The end]
Walter R. Cassels's poem: Spirit Of The Air
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