HPB-SB-3-65

T i

vol. 3, p. 65

H. P. Blavatsky Scrapbooks

from Adyar archives of the International Theosophical Society

vol. 3 (1875-1878)

Legend

SBT, DT

• HPB note
• HPB highlighted
• HPB underlined
• HPB crossed out
• <Editors note>
• <Archivist note>
• Lost or unclear
• Restored

<<   ☰   >>

eng • рус

Snow upon the Mountains

Why should mountains hold the snow On each lofty crest, While the peaceful vales below Smile in beauty dressed? Summer’s lavish wealth of bloom Scattered o’er the plains, While the Winter's chilling gloom On the summit reigns. Yet they lift their arms on high To the shining Heaven, Clasp the clouds that hurry by From the tempest driven, And detained within their hold In that strong embrace. Spreads the snow its mantling fold O’er the mountain’s face. But when Summer’s burning heat Parches all the plain, Sprinkling round the mountain’s feet, Ask they aid in vain? No,—a thousand crystal rills From the melting snow, Bear the treasures of the hills To the vales below. Riches thus for time of need, Do the mountains keep. With abundant stores to feed Vales that round them sleep. Watching o’er their deep repose, Thus each summit towers, On its brow eternal snows, At its feet are flowers. Why should souls of noblest worth Strive with deep distress, Feel the heaviest grief of earth On their spirits press ; Drink the bitter cup of woe, Feel the fiercest pain, Are those ills that wait below Poured on them in vain ? O they win the smile of Heaven, Firm and faithful found, Blessings from their sorrows given Fall on all around. Careless hearts are warmed to life, Wandering feet recalled, As they struggle through the strife. Faint, but unappalled. On their brows the chilling snow Of sorrow’s storms may lie, But they watch the Heaven’s glow With unfaltering eye. Sympathy and love they give From their hearts’ deep showers, Bright around their footsteps live Faith and Hope's sweet flowers.

The Lost Pleiad

Lost sister of the clustered seven. Or hidden on the plains of heaven. So that to man’s uplifted eye No answering star point fills the sky; Lost to the music of the spheres, Struck from the scroll of heavenly peers Lost to the calm that contemplates, That nothing feels, nor loves, nor hates; Passionless ever gliding on, Could’st thou mortal nature don, Leave thy throne of light afar Thou ruling spirit of a star, All thine inspirations check To sigh upon a mortal neck ? Lost, since to one of earthly mould A burning love is shown and told. Found, by the earthborn, found and kneeling He, in thee a spirit greets; Found, and loved, away concealing All a woman's love he meets : No half passion failing soon, A heaven lay set to jarring tune, But an eternal bond that never Man or spirit more can sever. Found, Sterope, and thy heart Must know of love the bliss, the smart. Must feel a new and inborn pleasure, Deep in thy soul no words can measure, Must learn the pain of mortal love Undreamed of in thy course above, Must try life’s gold and its alloy, For earth contains no unmixed joy. Is’t better thus—or calmly steering On thy night car space careering Knowing—ruling—all a Mind But Soul-less as the passing wind? Or with mortal love be toying. Or a mortal mate enjoying, All a mortal’s joys increasing And a mortal’s bonds releasing, Lifting him above his earth And teaching him a higher worth Then all his hard earned lore can give. How in perfect calm to live ? Lost, or found, the step is taken, Let not pride old thoughts awaken, Make the best of thy strange choice. In a human shape rejoice. And the faults thou wilt discover In thy new and grosser lover Treat them gently, grieve nor pine. Thou art his and he is thine. Washington, D.C. T.H.E. Thomas H. Evans.

Predictions in French History

...

Manifestations

...

A Reminder

...

Editor's notes