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To the Memory of my beloved Husband.

He stood unmatched on this terrestrial sphere,
Scarce less than angel, far, far more than man!
Too pure, too good, too blest to linger here,
Irradiating life's fleeting, sombre span—
Valued, esteemed; to every being dear,
Whose heart and mind his peerless worth might scan.
Beaming and glorious his high soul has flown
To spiritual spheres, where angels dwell alone.

What words may tell, what phantasy divine
The rich and varied treasures of strange lore,
The boundless wealth of the exhaustless mine,
Of that grand intellect, the virgin ore!
All that can elevate, instruct, refine,
Garnered unheeded in that priceless store !
Science and truth in their most dazzling light,
And all that genius gives most glorious, fair and bright.

Supreme the splendour of his godlike mind;
But all were vain to picture the fond heart,
To every living creature warm and kind;
For ever seeking blessings to impart;
Devoted, gentle, cheerful, pure, resigned;
Unstained by earthly dross, or worldly art;
Burning with such unselfish, tender love,
That none may know its like, save seraphim above.

Oh ! blest beyond all others was the one
Whom that unrivalled ardent heart endowed
With its rich freight of deepest love alone !
All the vain honours of which men are proud,
Royal tiara, and imperial throne;
The empty pomps to which the world has vowed
Its homage and its lusts,—all, all were nought,
Beside the peerless bliss with which that love was fraught

For they were fitly met,—no sordid aim
Had dimmed its lustre. All was on a par,—
Soul, mind, and passion. Both could justly claim
Their brilliant portion. No false chord did jar
That glowing hymn. No flaw was there to shame
The limpid crystal,—no lost link, to mar
That glory which angelic eyes delights,
Two lofty, twin-born souls, whom God Himself unites!

page viii

What that this world may offer, can compare
With that deep joy, that ecstasy supreme,
When two fond souls each thought, each feeling share,
And life glides on, a spiritual dream?
While hand in hand advance the loving pair,
Each other's echo; as with lightning gleam,
deas flash from each responsive mind,
Till ere the words are breathed, already they're divined !

What can replace it ? There is nought on earth
So radiantly divine! All things must pall
When once 'tis savoured.—Of celestial birth,
Pure, exquisite, sublime! 'tis all in all
To those twin spirits.—Nothing else is worth
A sigh or tear ! All worldly joy doth fall
Too far beneath its spells! Supreme disdain
All other raptures wake,—cold, colourless, and vain.

Lo ! he is gone ! The master mind has fled;
The loving heart, the sympathising soul,—
All are extinguished! He is with the dead !
Where can we find the courage to control
Such maddening woe? Eternal night has spread
Its darkness round. What Power can console
The mourning one who dismally survives,
Whose agonies alone betray that still she lives?

All things with him have perished! Bleak and drear
Looks this fair earth. Chill, melancholy, pale,
Its brightest scenes. The sun has ceased to cheer
With his warm smile the mountain and the vale.
Cold, mocking phantoms do all men appear;
Wit, talent, genius, valueless and stale.
For what can fame and glory profit yet
To that crushed, broken heart whose only sun has set?

Can this be life? Is happiness accurst?
That those whose bliss is pure, whose love is true,
Deep, passionate, supreme, should be the first
Their lofty hopes, their joyous hours to rue?
Can it be just that fate should do its worst
Upon the blameless hearts,—the chosen few?
Is it decreed that all things bright and fair
Should vanish in the gloom of hopeless, black despair?

Is there no providence? no mercy here?
No justice on the earth? no God above?
Nothing to hope, and everything to fear?
That such felicity, such noble love,
page ix Such ardent prayers, He can refuse to hear ?
If such deep grief be powerless to move
His heart, in pity, to console and save,
Then is the world indeed but one wide, ghastly grave !

Can this be true ? Is then Omnipotence
Another name for tyranny's stern might ?
Can ruthless rigour, harsh indifference,
Quench in His heart all pity, justice, right ?
Can hopeless grief, can suffering intense,
Delight his ears,—be pleasant in His sight ?
Can abject terror, superstition vile,
The loathsome homage be on which a God can smile ?

Answer me Thou ! Almighty One, reply !
Hear Thou the mourner's passionate appeal!
Are men in error, or art Thou too high,
Compassion for our misery to feel?
Dost Thou disdain us? or do we belie
Thy sympathy for human woe or weal?
Can it be true, that merciless, cold, stern,
Of these sad, tortured hearts the anguish thou dost spurn?

What gleaming light is flashing in the skies,
Piercing the gloom? What solemn voice is this,
That answers to my prayer?—that bids me rise,
Resigned, serene, from chaos' black abyss?
What dazzling vision bursts upon my eyes!
What radiant hope! unutterable bliss!
All has not perished !—Joy has not fled !—
The loved, the lost return !—O God! they are not dead

Wonder of wonders ! Do I wake or dream?
Does some strange madness whirl my frenzied brain?
Too marvellous the glorious truth doth seem;
Too wild the ecstasy that stills my pain.
Full on my glance the opening heavens beam.
God is no myth ! We do not live in vain !
Through every vein electric fires burn,
With rapture echoing, The loved, the lost return !

I do not dream. It is his voice I hear;
The loving thoughts, the accents all bis own.
"Be comforted," it murmurs in my ear;
"I have returned to thee; I have not flown
To some far distant, brighter, happier sphere,
And left my love to sorrow here alone.
Weep thou no more, for I am at thy side;
Rejoice, for thou art now a glorious spirit's bride.

page x

Weep thou no more ! Behold, pure love is blest.
Lite is no malediction; 'tis a boon
Most grand, most bounteous! All is for the best.
The hour is ripe. God has decreed that soon
The wondrous truth shall be made manifest
Throughout the world. Then shall all men commune
With spiritual spheres; all men believe;
And miracles unfold their minds can scarce conceive.

The world is not a chaos. All is wise,
Beneficent, omniscient, just, divine.
God is too great His creatures to despise;
'Tis ignorance alone makes man repine.
What though the mystery elude his eyes!
Sage are the means; stupendous the design.
Eternal bliss awaits the immortal soul.
Sublime infinitude its vast, transcendent goal.

"Evil is transient. By His bounteous will
All must progress. Dread death is but a name
For transformation. Nothing may stand still;
Nothing may perish. Anguish is the flame
That purifies the ore. Each must fulfil
His destined task, ere he can justly claim
Reward or merit; for no worth nor pride
Belongs to aught unearned, or what is yet untried.

Men are not cast upon life's troubled tide
To float or sink, like atoms on the stream,
Swept onward by the wave, whate'er betide,
Devoid of helm or steerage, or a gleam
Of light Divine their unknown course to guide.
Nought is uncertain, hazard, as men deem;
Nought is unmeaning, fruitless, aimless, vain;
Throughout the universe all things doth He ordain.

Glorious Creator, how has not Thy name
Been outraged by Thy children! Through all time
Men have not feared Thy splendour to defame
With impious profanation. Every crime
That stains their annals, every deed of shame,
They foisted on Thy Majesty sublime,—
All the vile instincts which their souls pollute;
Each passion that has power to make their conscience mute.

"Every weak mortal on whom men bestow
Kingdoms and crowns, to pamper-vice and lust,—
Before whose altars abject courtiers bow,
And groaning thousands, trampled in the dust;
page xi That by their base example all may know
Thy providence alone should nations trust,—
With blasphemous appeal dares to invoke
Thy grace Divine, Thy name, iniquity to cloak.

"Zeus, whom men unblushingly array
In all the carnal grossnesses that mar
Each loftier impulse; at whose feet they lay
Ignoble incense. Sanguinary Thor,
Before whose blood-stained altars they can pray !
Leader of ruthless hosts, of savage war;
Jehovah, God of vengeance and dismay !
Thou, whose unsullied glory men degrade
To their own sordid type, whose image they have made.

"Exterminator ! Thou, who givest life
To every creature that doth breathe and move.
Abettor thou of carnage, rapine, strife;
Of infamy that even men reprove!
Thou, whose perfection with all good is rife;
Source of all virtues, genius, science, love;
Protecting, blessing all existing things,
O'erspreads the universe with providential wings.

"Father of spirits ! Infinite, Supreme !
Thought fails to image, language to reveal,
Of Thy creation the transcendent scheme;
The marvels which its mysteries conceal.
Bliss so ineffable, that like a dream
Its revelations o'er our senses steal;
Visions whose gorgeousness a thousand-fold
Surpass all men might hope to win or to behold.

"Nothing is lost. No struggle here is vain.
Nought that we cherish earnestly and well
Fades from our grasp;—no treasure we obtain
By sacrifice and truth. Death fails to quell
One burning aspiration. We retain
Friendship, love, science; genius' magic spell.
All that is spiritual, noble, pure,
Eternally expands; for ever shall endure."

O joy ! there is no separation more,
Dismal, blank, hopeless ! No eternal night
O'ershadowing the world. The mystic shore
Of higher spheres looms tangibly in sight.
Despair, doubt, darkness, are for ever o'er;
All is magnificence, conviction, light.
There is no death. The dear ones hover near;
Our eyes may view them yet ! their voices we may hear

page xii

None are abandoned to remorseless fate;
None utterly condemned, without a gleam
Of comfort or of hope, to expiate
Their guilty past, though black its record seem.
Remorse, repentance, never come too late
An evil soul's transgressions to redeem.
The gates of heaven Thou dost ever leave
Open to those who strive their errors to retrieve.

Almighty One ! how shall Thy children lay
Homage not wholly sterile at Thy feet?
How their vast debt of gratitude repay,
In part at least, by tribute not unmeet
Their failings to atone? How fitly pray
With that deep truth Thou wilt benignly greet
With grace and favour? How condignly prove
Their passionate return of thankfulness and love ?

Thou, whose pure essence words cannot express;
Whose godlike pleasure is but to create
Myriads of thinking beings Thou dost bless
With soul, light, freedom, to work out their fate,
Through noble deeds to endless happiness.
Ever the embryo angels' gifts innate,
Thy bounteousness imparts, developing;
Soaring from orb to orb on bright, triumphant wing.

Only by following the grand career
Thou hast designed; endeavouring to be
All Thou dost will. Through each progressive sphere
Chiming with transport in the harmony
Of Thy vast Cosmos; striving to come near
The seraphs Thou dost love; to proffer Thee
The worship of high souls. Oh, thus alone
Can spirits offer up pure incense at Thy throne.

O smile Thou on us ! generously raise
Our earth-bound souls to their celestial aim,
That each may join in the glad hymns of praise
Which through all worlds Thy majesty proclaim.
Let Thy full glory beam upon our gaze,
That our deep adoration's mystic flame
Even on earth may not unworthy be
Of hallowing Thy name throughout eternity.