FEARS AND SCRUPLES

Here's my case. Of old I used to love him.

This same unseen friend, before I knew:

Dream there was none like him, none above him,—

Wake to hope and trust my dream was true.

Loved I not his letters full of beauty?

Not his actions famous far and wide?

Absent, he would know I vowed him duty,

Present, he would find me at his side.

Pleasant fancy! for I had but letters,

Only knew of actions by hearsay:

He himself was busied with my betters;

What of that? My turn must come some day.

“Some day” proving — no day! Here's the puzzle.

Passed and passed my turn is. Why complain?

He's so busied! If I could but muzzle

People's foolish mouths that give me pain!

“Letters?” ( hear them! ) “You a judge of writing?

Ask the experts!— How they shake the head

O'er these characters, your friend's inditing —

Call them forgery from A to Z !

“Actions? Where's your certain proof” ( they bother )

“He, of all you find so great and good,

He, he only, claims this, that, the other

Action — claimed by men, a multitude?”

I can simply wish I might refute you,

Wish my friend would,— by a word, a wink,—

Bid me stop that foolish mouth,— you brute you!

He keeps absent,— why, I cannot think.

Never mind! Tho’ foolishness may flout me.

One thing's sure enough;‘ tis neither frost,

No, nor fire, shall freeze or burn from out me

Thanks for truth — tho’ falsehood, gained — tho’ lost.

All my days, I'll go the softlier, sadlier,

For that dream's sake! How forget the thrill

Thro’ and thro’ me as I thought, “The gladlier

Lives my friend because I love him still!”

‘ What and if he, frowning, wake you, dreamy?

Lay on you the blame that bricks — conceal?

Say‘ At least I saw who did not see me,

Does see now, and presently shall feel’?”

“Why, that makes your friend a monster!” say you;

“Had his house no window? At first nod,

Would you not have hailed him?” Hush, I pray you!

What if this friend happen to be — God?