Difference between revisions of "HPB-SB-3-192"
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| item =1 | | item =1 | ||
| type = poem | | type = poem | ||
− | | status = | + | | status = ok |
| continues = | | continues = | ||
− | | author =Tappan, Cora L.V | + | | author = Tappan, Cora L.V. |
− | | title =The Beginning | + | | title = The Beginning |
| subtitle = | | subtitle = | ||
| untitled = | | untitled = | ||
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}} | }} | ||
− | ... | + | <center>AN INSPIRATIONAL POEM BY MRS. CORA L. V. TAPPAN.</center> |
+ | |||
+ | {{Style P-Poem|poem=In the Beginning was the Word ! What matchless power, | ||
+ | Shaping itself through Chaos with the swiftest thought ! | ||
+ | :Behold ! God in his place | ||
+ | :Spoke unto Chaos face to face, | ||
+ | ::In the Beginning. | ||
+ | And the worlds by that mighty breath | ||
+ | ::Blossomed in space, | ||
+ | From Chaos and from Death, | ||
+ | ::In the Beginning. | ||
+ | And the germ s’eeping all silently, became a flower | ||
+ | ::With voting immortality. | ||
+ | |||
+ | The Word was Law. And atoms kindled into light, | ||
+ | And light became a song, for song is law | ||
+ | And harmony which sweep along, | ||
+ | :In octaves through the spheres. | ||
+ | And lo ! God vibrant, with eternal hand, | ||
+ | :Smote Chaos with a song of law, | ||
+ | :Behold ! The world, without a flaw, | ||
+ | Traced upon leaf, or tree, or star, or man ; | ||
+ | One thought—one primal will—revealing | ||
+ | :God's great plan, | ||
+ | ::Creation. | ||
+ | |||
+ | Even now, as then, He stands within the space | ||
+ | Apart, and consecrated to the grace | ||
+ | :Of God's good word. | ||
+ | Behold ! It issues thence, | ||
+ | Each thought becomes a recompense, | ||
+ | And like Creation in its cosmic sphere, | ||
+ | You hold the universe within your heart, and hear | ||
+ | ::The sigh, the moan. | ||
+ | These are but echoes of the ante-natal groan. | ||
+ | |||
+ | :In the Beginning was the Word ! | ||
+ | :And by the primal law, and power, | ||
+ | :And thought He shaped, the world was born— | ||
+ | ::The rock—the flower. | ||
+ | And man through the successive ages of his life | ||
+ | Resonant with song, with care, with strife, | ||
+ | Is but the subject of that primal Word | ||
+ | Which pierces, even as a pointed sword, | ||
+ | ::The depths of matter. | ||
+ | |||
+ | :Lo ! The primal thought ! | ||
+ | :How pure and white it is ! | ||
+ | Its rays are caught alone the prism of life, | ||
+ | Turned red and grey by human strife. | ||
+ | Even now, as then, God speaks in primal word, | ||
+ | One song of harmony is ever hearth.}} | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
+ | {{Style P-HPB SB. Article separator}} | ||
+ | <center>Poetry.</center> | ||
{{HPB-SB-item | {{HPB-SB-item | ||
| volume = 3 | | volume = 3 | ||
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| item =2 | | item =2 | ||
| type = poem | | type = poem | ||
− | | status = | + | | status = ok |
| continues = | | continues = | ||
− | | author =Longfellow, Henry | + | | author = Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth |
− | | title = | + | | title = Extracts from the Masque of Pandora |
| subtitle = | | subtitle = | ||
| untitled = | | untitled = | ||
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}} | }} | ||
− | ... | + | <center>BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW.</center> |
+ | |||
+ | {{Style P-Poem|poem=<center>I.</center> | ||
+ | : Death takes us by surprise, | ||
+ | : And stays our hurrying feet; | ||
+ | The great design unfinished lies, | ||
+ | : Our lives are incomplete. | ||
+ | |||
+ | : But in the dark unknown | ||
+ | : Perfect their circles seem, | ||
+ | Even as a bridge's arch of stone | ||
+ | : Is rounded in the stream. | ||
+ | |||
+ | : Alike are life and death, | ||
+ | : When life in death survives, | ||
+ | And the uninterrupted breath | ||
+ | : Inspires a thousand lives. | ||
+ | |||
+ | : Were a star quenched on high, | ||
+ | : For ages would its light, | ||
+ | Still travelling downward from the sky, | ||
+ | : Shine on our mortal sight. | ||
+ | |||
+ | : So when a great man dies, | ||
+ | : For years beyond our ken, | ||
+ | The light he leaves behind him lies | ||
+ | : Upon the paths of men. | ||
+ | |||
+ | <center>II.</center> | ||
+ | River, that stealest with such silent pace | ||
+ | : Around the City of the Dead, where lies | ||
+ | : A friend who bore thy name, and whom these eyes | ||
+ | : Shall see no more in his accustomed place, | ||
+ | Linger and fold him in thy soft embrace | ||
+ | : And say good night, for now the western skies | ||
+ | : Are red with sunset, and gray mists arise | ||
+ | : Like damps that gather on a dead man's face. | ||
+ | Good night ! good night! as we so oft have said | ||
+ | : Beneath this roof at midnight in the days | ||
+ | : That are no more, and shall no more return. | ||
+ | Thou hast but taken thy lamp and gone to bed ; | ||
+ | : I stay a little longer, as one stays | ||
+ | To cover up the embers that still burn.}} | ||
+ | |||
+ | |||
{{HPB-SB-item | {{HPB-SB-item | ||
| volume = 3 | | volume = 3 |
Revision as of 06:08, 22 April 2022
The Beginning
In the Beginning was the Word ! What matchless power, |
Extracts from the Masque of Pandora
Death takes us by surprise, River, that stealest with such silent pace |
<Untitled>
...
Lord Bacon a Spiritualist
... <... continues on page 3-193 >