Poems by Henry Van Dyke

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Light Between the Trees

Long, long, long the trail

Through the brooding forest-gloom,

Down the shadowy, lonely vale

Into silence, like a room

Where the light of life has fled,

And the jealous curtains close

Round the passionless repose

Of the silent dead.

Henry Van Dyke

Hymn of Joy

To the music of Beethoven's ninth symphony

Joyful, joyful, we adore Thee,

God of glory, Lord of love;

Hearts unfold like flowers before Thee,

Praising Thee their sun above.

Melt the clouds of sin and sadness;

Drive the dark of doubt away;

Giver of immortal gladness,

Henry Van Dyke

Homeward Bound

Home, for my heart still calls me;

Home, through the danger zone;

Home, whatever befalls me,

I will sail again to my own!

Wolves of the sea are hiding

Closely along the way,

Under the water biding

Their moment to rend and slay.

Henry Van Dyke

The Foolish Fir-Tree

. A tale that the poet Rückert told

To German children, in days of old;

Disguised in a random, rollicking rhyme

Like a merry mummer of ancient time,

And sent, in its English dress, to please

The little folk of the Christmas trees.

A little fir grew in the midst of the wood

Contented and happy, as young trees should.

Henry Van Dyke

America's Prosperity

They tell me thou art rich, my country: gold

In glittering flood has poured into thy chest;

Thy flocks and herds increase, thy barns are pressed

With harvest, and thy stores can hardly hold

Their merchandise; unending trains are rolled

Along thy network rails of East and West;

Thy factories and forges never rest;

Thou art enriched in all things bought and sold!

Henry Van Dyke

Mother Earth

Mother of all the high-strung poets and singers departed,

Mother of all the grass that weaves over their graves the glory of the field,

Mother of all the manifold forms of life, deep-bosomed, patient, impassive,

Silent brooder and nurse of lyrical joys and sorrows!

Out of thee, yea, surely out of the fertile depth below thy breast,

Issued in some strange way, thou lying motionless, voiceless,

All these songs of nature, rhythmical, passionate, yearning,

Coming in music from earth, but not unto earth returning.

Henry Van Dyke

Spring in the South

Now in the oak the sap of life is welling,

Tho' to the bough the rusty leafage clings;

Now on the elm the misty buds are swelling,

See how the pine-wood grows alive with wings;

Blue-jays fluttering, yodeling and crying,

Meadow-larks sailing low above the faded grass,

Red-birds whistling clear, silent robins flying,—

Who has waked the birds up? What has come to pass?

Henry Van Dyke

Twilight in the Alps

I love the hour that comes, with dusky hair

And dewy feet, along the Alpine dells

To lead the cattle forth. A thousand bells

Go chiming after her across the fair

And flowery uplands, while the rosy flare

Of sunset on the snowy mountain dwells,

And valleys darken, and the drowsy spells

Of peace are woven through the purple air.

Henry Van Dyke

Jesus, Thou Divine Companion

Jesus, Thou divine Companion,

By Thy lowly human birth

Thou hast come to join the workers,

Burden bearers of the earth.

Thou, the Carpenter of Nazareth,

Toiling for Thy daily food,

By Thy patience and Thy courage,

Thou hast taught us toil is good.

Henry Van Dyke

The Gentle Traveller

Through many a land your journey ran,

And showed the best the world can boast:

Now tell me, traveller, if you can,

The place that pleased you most."

She laid her hands upon my breast,

And murmured gently in my ear,

"The place I loved and liked the best

Was in your arms, my dear!"

Henry Van Dyke

The Wind of Sorrow

The fire of love was burning, yet so low

That in the dark we scarce could see its rays,

And in the light of perfect-placid days

Nothing but smouldering embers dull and slow.

Vainly, for love's delight, we sought to throw

New pleasures on the pyre to make it blaze:

In life's calm air and tranquil-prosperous ways

We missed the radiant heat of long ago.

Henry Van Dyke

Stars and the Soul

To Charles A. Young, Astronomer

"Two things," the wise man said, "fill me with awe:

The starry heavens and the moral law."

Nay, add another wonder to thy roll, —

The living marvel of the human soul!

Born in the dust and cradled in the dark,

It feels the fire of an immortal spark,

And learns to read, with patient, searching eyes,

Henry Van Dyke