Chapter 3

In God there is no night,-- Truth is eternal light, A help forever near; For sinless sense is here In Truth, the Life, the Principle of man. Away, then, mortal sense! Then, error, get thee hence, Thy discord ne'er in harmony began!

Immortal Truth,--since heaven rang, The while the glad stars sang To hail creation's glorious morn-- As when this babe was born, A painless heraldry of Soul, not sense,-- Shine on our 'wildered way, Give God's idea sway, And sickness, sin, and death are banished hence.

Lynn, Mass., _April, 1871_.

"_THE LIBERTY BELLS_"

This is the hour they then foretold-- When earth, inebriate with crime, Laughed right to scorn, and guilt, grown bold, Knelt worshiping at mammon's shrine.

This is the hour! Corruption's band Is driven back; and periled right, Rescued by the "fanatic" hand, Spans our broad heaven of light.

Righteousness ne'er--awestruck or dumb-- Feared for an hour the tyrant's heel! Injustice to the combat sprang; God to the rescue--Liberty, peal!

Joy is in every belfry bell-- Joy for the captive! Sound it long! Ye who have wept fourscore can tell The holy meaning of their song.

'Tis freedom's birthday--blood-bought boon! O war-rent flag! O soldier-shroud! Thine be the glory--nor too soon Is heard your "Cry aloud!"

O not too soon is rent the chain And charter, trampling right in dust! Till God is God no longer--ne'er again Quench liberty that's just.

Lynn, Mass., _February 3, 1865_.

"_MEMENTO_"

Respectfully inscribed to my friends in Lynn.

I come to thee O'er the moonlit sea, When the hoarse wave revisits thy shore! When waters shout, And the stars peep out, I am with thee in spirit once more.

Then list the moan Of the billows' foam, Laving with surges thy silv'ry beach! Night's dewy eye, The sea-mew's lone cry, Witness my presence and utter my speech.

Pleasant a grave By the "Rock" or wave, And afar from life's turmoil its goal. No sculptured lie, Or hypocrite sigh, E'er to mock the bright truth of the soul.

Friends, will not ye Think kindly of me, In those moments to memory bestowed? Smile on me yet, O blue eyes and jet, Soft as when parting thy sympathy glowed!

_March 3, 1867._

_COMMUNION HYMN_

Saw ye my Saviour? Heard ye the glad sound? Felt ye the power of the Word? 'Twas the Truth that made us free, And was found by you and me In the life and the love of our Lord.

Mourner, it calls you,--"Come to my bosom, Love wipes your tears all away, And will lift the shade of gloom, And for you make radiant room Midst the glories of one endless day."

Sinner, it calls you,--"Come to this fountain, Cleanse the foul senses within; 'Tis the Spirit that makes pure, That exalts thee, and will cure All thy sorrow and sickness and sin."

Strongest deliverer, friend of the friendless, Life of all being divine: Thou the Christ, and not the creed; Thou the Truth in thought and deed; Thou the water, the bread, and the wine.

_LAUS DEO!_

The laying of the corner-stone of The Mother Church.

Laus Deo, it is done! Rolled away from loving heart Is a stone. Lifted higher, we depart, Having one.

_Laus Deo_,--on this rock (Heaven chiseled squarely good) Stands His church,-- God is Love, and understood By His flock.

_Laus Deo_, night star-lit Slumbers not in God's embrace; Be awake; Like this stone, be in thy place: Stand, not sit.

Grave, silent, steadfast stone, Dirge and song and shoutings low In thy heart Dwell serene,--and sorrow? No, It has none, _Laus Deo!_

_OUR NATIONAL THANKSGIVING HYMN_

God of the rolling year! to Thee we raise A nation's holiest hymn in grateful praise! Plenty and peace abound at Thy behest, Yet wherefore this Thy love? Thou knowest best!

Thou who, impartial, blessings spreadst abroad, Thou wisdom, Love, and Truth,--divinely God! Who giveth joy and tears, conflict and rest, Teaching us thus of Thee, who knowest best!

Ruler Supreme! to Thee we'll meekly bow, When we have learned of Truth what Thou doest now-- Why from this festive hour some dear lost guest Bears hence its sunlit glow--Thou knowest best!

How have our honored dead fought on in gloom! Peace her white wings will spread over their tomb; Why waited their reward, triumph and rest, Till molds the hero form? Thou knowest best!

Shades of our heroes! the Union now is one, The star whose destiny none may outrun; Tears of the bleeding slave poured on her breast, When to be wiped away, Thou knowest best!

Thou who in the Christ hallowed its grief,-- O meekest of mourners, while yet the chief,-- Give to the pleading hearts comfort and rest, In that benediction which knoweth best!

Lynn, Mass., _December 7, 1865_.

_SATISFIED_

It matters not what be thy lot, So Love doth guide; For storm or shine, pure peace is thine, Whate'er betide.

And of these stones, or tyrants' thrones, God able is To raise up seed--in thought and deed-- To faithful His.

Aye, darkling sense, arise, go hence! Our God is good. False fears are foes--truth tatters those, When understood.

Love looseth thee, and lifteth me, Ayont hate's thrall: There Life is light, and wisdom might, And God is All.

The centuries break, the earth-bound wake, God's glorified! Who doth His will--His likeness still-- Is satisfied.

Pleasant View, Concord, N. H., _January, 1900_.