THE OVER-HEART.

Above, below, in sky and sod,

In leaf and spar, in star and man,

Well might the wise Athenian scan

The geometric signs of God,

The measured order of His plan.

And India's mystics sang aright

Of the One Life pervading all,—

One Being's tidal rise and fall

In soul and form, in sound and sight,—

Eternal outflow and recall.

God is: and man in guilt and fear

The central fact of Nature owns;

Kneels, trembling, by his altar-stones,

And darkly dreams the ghastly smear

Of blood appeases and atones.

Guilt shapes the Terror: deep within

The human heart the secret lies

Of all the hideous deities;

And, painted on a ground of sin,

The fabled gods of torment rise!

And what is He? The ripe grain nods,

The sweet dews fall, the sweet flowers blow;

But darker signs His presence show

The earthquake and the storm are God's,

And good and evil interflow.

O hearts of love! O souls that turn

Like sunflowers to the pure and best!

To you the truth is manifest:

For they the mind of Christ discern

Who lean like John upon His breast!

In him of whom the sibyl told,

For whom the prophet's harp was toned,

Whose need the sage and magian owned,

The loving heart of God behold,

The hope for which the ages groaned!

Fade, pomp of dreadful imagery

Wherewith mankind have deified

Their hate, and selfishness, and pride!

Let the scared dreamer wake to see

The Christ of Nazareth at his side!

What doth that holy Guide require?

No rite of pain, nor gift of blood,

But man a kindly brotherhood,

Looking, where duty is desire,

To Him, the beautiful and good.

Gone be the faithlessness of fear,

And let the pitying heaven's sweet rain

Wash out the altar's bloody stain;

The law of Hatred disappear,

The law of Love alone remain.

How fall the idols false and grim!

And to! their hideous wreck above

The emblems of the Lamb and Dove!

Man turns from God, not God from him;

And guilt, in suffering, whispers Love!

The world sits at the feet of Christ,

Unknowing, blind, and unconsoled;

It yet shall touch His garment's fold,

And feel the heavenly Alchemist

Transform its very dust to gold.

The theme befitting angel tongues

Beyond a mortal's scope has grown.

O heart of mine! with reverence own

The fulness which to it belongs,

And trust the unknown for the known.