BRAND.
Visions stirring, visions splendid
Like a flock of swans descended,
On their spreading wings upbore me,
And I saw my way before me;
Sin-subduer of the Age
Sternly stemming seas that rage.
Church-processions, banners streaming,
Anthems rolling, incense steaming,
Golden goblets, victor-songs,
Rapt applause of surging throngs,
Made a glory where I fought.
All in dazzling hues was wrought;—
Yet it was an empty dream,
A brief mountain-vision, caught
Half in glare and half in gleam.
No w I stand where twilight gray
Long forestalls the ebb of day,
’Twixt the water and the wild,
From the busy world exiled,
Just a strip of heaven’s blue dome
Visible;-but this is H o m e.
Now my Sabbath dream is dark;
To the stall my winged steed;
But I see a higher Mark.
Than to wield the knightly sabre,—
Daily duty, daily labor,
Hallow’d to a Sabbath-deed.