Amos Bronson Alcott

“ And I had thought forever by thy side With bursting buds of hope in youth to dwell; But one by one Time strewed thy petals wide, And every hope’s wan look a grief can tell; For I had thoughtless lived beneath his sway, Who like a tyrant dealeth with us all,— Crowning each rose, though rooted in decay, With charms that shall the spirit’s love enthral, And, for a season, turn the soul’s pure eyes From virtue’s bloom that time and death defies. ”

“ When I remember with what buoyant heart, Midst war’s alarms and woes of civil strife, In youthful eagerness, thou didst depart, At peril of thy safety, peace, and life, To nurse the wounded soldier, swathe the dead— How piercèd soon by fever’s poisoned dart, And brought unconscious home, with wildered head— Thou, ever since, mid languor and dull pain, To conquer fortune, cherish kindred dear, Hast with grave studies vexed a sprightly brain, In myriad households kindled love and cheer ”

“ Bold Saint, thou firm believer in the Cross, Again made glorious by self-sacrifice,— Love’s free atonement given without love’s loss,— That martyrdom to thee was lighter pain, Since thus a race its liberties should gain; Flash its sure consequence in Slavery’s eyes When, ’scaping sabre’s clash and battle’s smoke, She felt the justice of thy master-stroke: Peaceful prosperity around us lies, Freedom with loyalty thy valor gave; Whilst thou, no felon doomed, for gallows fit, O Patriot true! ”

“ Daughter, beloved of all, thy tender eye, Sweet disposition, and thy gentle voice, Make every heart, full soon thy close ally, Respect thy wishes, thine unspoken choice,— Hastening, unbidden, therewith to comply; They in thy cheerful countenance rejoice, Kindness unfailing, and quick sympathy. Peacemaker thou, with equanimity And aspirations far above thy care, Leavest no duty slighted or undone, Living for thy dear kindred, always there, Faithful as rising and as setting sun. ”

“ My heart, forthlooking in the purple day, Tell me what sweetest image thou may’st see, Fit to be type of thy dear love and thee? Lo! here where sunshine keeps the wind away, Grow two young violets,—humble lovers they,— With drooping face to face, and breath to breath, They look and kiss and love and laugh at death:— Yon bluebird singing on the scarlet spray [Pg 22] Of the bloomed maple in the blithe spring air, While his mate answers from the wood of pines, And all day long their music ne’er declines; For love their labor is, and love their care. ”

“ In vain our thoughts would wind within the heart, The heart of this great mystery of release!— Baptism of Death—which steepest infant eyes In grace of calm that saints might hope to wear, Whose cold touch purifies the guilty brow, And sets again the seal of childhood there— Our line of life in vain would sound thy sea, That which we seek to know,—we soon shall be. ”

“ Lady, that in the prime of earliest youth Wisely hast shunned the broad way and the green, And with those few art eminently seen That labor up the hill of heavenly truth,— The better part with Mary and with Ruth, Chosen thou hast; and they that overween, And at thy growing virtues fret their spleen, No anger find in thee, but pity and ruth. Thy care is fixed, and zealously attends To fill thy odorous lamp with deeds of light, And hope that reaps not shame. ”

“ They bless or blame for generations long; They prick us forward toward our destined end, Alike the weak, the sluggish, and the strong. When her grave ancestor, of Winthrop’s date, Did with the rich mint-master’s daughter join In wedlock, he, sagacious magistrate, Gained more in sterling worth than silver coin: So, when King’s Chapel saw, in gladsome May, The mild schoolmaster lead his willing bride, And the courtly warden give her hand away, Mintage of like worth had no land beside. True love alone nobility doth outvie, And character’s the sterling currency. ”

“ Poet of the Pulpit, whose full-chorded lyre Startles the churches from their slumbers late, Discoursing music, mixed with lofty ire, At wrangling factions in the restless state, Till tingles with thy note each listening ear,— Then household charities by the friendly fire Of home, soothe all to fellowship and good cheer. No sin escapes thy fervent eloquence, Yet, touching with compassion the true word, Thou leavest the trembling culprit’s dark offence To the mediation of his gracious Lord. To noble thought and deep dost thou dispense Due meed of praise, strict in thy just award. ”

“ Iconoclast, who ’gainst foul idols ran, Tumbling false gods from their wide-worshipped shrine, To throne therein the human and divine. Charged was thy soul with vehement eloquence, Strenuous with ample reason’s manly art; Thy prayers were fervent, void of all pretence, Wrath yielded place to pity in thy heart; Eagerly of all learning mad’st thou spoil, Before thy lamp, extinguished, spent its oil. [Pg 144]
“There’s not a breathing of the common wind That will forget thee: thou hast great allies; Thy friends are exultations, agonies, And love, and man’s unconquerable mind.” Wordsworth. ”

“ Then from thy judgment-seat, dismissed with ruth, Thou lead’st the stumblers in the way of truth. [Pg 118]
“Hast thou named all the birds without a gun? Loved the wild rose and left it on its stalk? At rich men’s tables eaten bread and pulse? Unarmed, faced danger with a heart of trust? And loved so well a high behavior, In man or maid, that thou from speech refrained, Nobility more nobly to repay? Oh, be my friend, and teach me to be thine!” ”

“ Nobly censorious of our transient age, Hating oppressors in thy love of man, Thou didst stride forward on the public stage With the bold liberators to the van, Scourging delinquents with a lofty rage. ”

“ I have told Most bitter truth, but without bitterness, Nor deem my zeal or factious or mistimed; For never can true courage dwell with them Who, playing tricks with conscience, dare not look At their own vices. ”

“ As thou from year to year hast sung too late For my relief, yet hadst no reason why; Whether the Muse, or Love call thee his mate, Both them I serve, and of their train am I.”
This is plainly a fabricated song, not poured out from the heart, though full of melodious fancy. More natural and earnest is the tone [Pg 29] in which our poet soon after praises one who had passed unheeding by the bower of love, and devoted herself to a life of piety and good deeds. We cannot guess who she was, but such saints are seen in every land and age. ”

“ Still held in sweet remembrance thou, my friend, As when I knew thee in thy maiden prime; Though later years to ripening graces lend The graver traits, whilst we together climb The pathway upward to those loftier heights, ’Bove clouded prospects and familiar sights. Thy gracious worth shines brightly in mine eyes, Thy warm heart’s labors, thy large liberal brain, Ennobling studies, and broad charities, Thou woman worthy of the coming age! Whilst household duties thou dost well sustain, Yet ampler service for thy sex presage ”

“ Rebel to love in truth to love am I.”
A poet who has been more than once quoted in this essay, saw no sharp hostility between Love and Death,—those reputed foes,—but thus addressed the last earthly benefactor of mankind:—
“O Death! thou art the palace of our hopes, The storehouse of our joys,—great labor’s end.”
His friend, confronting the same inevitable guest, questioned the dark angel, in these lines, that conform to the rule of the sonnet in spirit, if not in rhyme:—
“What strange deep secret dost thou hold, O Death! To hallow those thou claimest for thine own? ”

“ In Youth’s glad morning, when the rising East Glows golden with assurance of success, And life itself ’s a rare continual feast, Enjoyed the more if meditated less, ’T is then that friendship’s pleasures chiefly bless, As if without beginning,—ne’er to end,— So rich the season and so dear the friend, When thou and I went wandering hand in hand ”

“ O Duty, if that name thou love, Who art a light to guide, a rod To check the erring, and reprove; Thou who art victory and law, When empty terrors overawe; And calm’st the weary strife of frail humanity!” Wordsworth. ”

“ To you the world has been a brotherhood of noble souls,—too few, as we thought, for your companionship,—but which you have enlarged by the admission to one rank of those who have gone, and of us who remain to love you and listen to your oracles. The men and the charming women who recognized your voice when it was that of one crying in the wilderness—“Prepare ye the way of our Lord,” are joined, in your commemorative sonnets, with those who hearken to its later accents, proclaiming the same acceptable year of the Lord. ”

“ Who nearer Nature’s life would truly come Must nearest come to him of whom I speak; He all kinds knew,—the vocal and the dumb; Masterful in genius was he, and unique, Patient, sagacious, tender, frolicsome. ”

“ The canzonet lets us down again into the pathetic, the humorous, or the fanciful,—though in this volume the canzonet generally betokens sadness. It may easily become an ode, as in the verses on Garfield: indeed the ode may be considered as an extended canzonet, or the canzonet as a brief ode. It is the sonnet that chiefly concerns us now, and that form of the sonnet which deals with love; since the germ of this book was a romance of love, seeking to express itself in the uplifting strain and tender cadence of successive sonnets ”

“ Out of this valley of sadness the spirit rises on bolder wing, as the melancholy mood passes away,—
“Hearts of eternity, hearts of the deep! Proclaim from land to sea your mighty fate; How that for you no living comes too late, [Pg 25] How ye cannot in Theban labyrinth creep, How ye great harvests from small surface reap, Shout, excellent band, in grand primeval strain, Like midnight winds that foam along the main,— And do all things rather than pause to weep. ”

“ Philosopher! whose rare discernments show Apt mastery of her surpassing skill, And why each thought and thing is inly so Conceived and fashioned in the plastic Will; Thou Reason’s canons dost so well maintain, With such adhesive and sincere regard, That every deviator seeks in vain To escape thy apprehension; evil-starred, With Dante’s sophisters they writhe in pain. ”

“ On these crisp pathways, and familiar grounds (Unless my flattering heart be over-bold) , While lingering purposely amid our rounds, Some shady lane may love to hear all told. One name has captured his too partial ear,— (These kind, concealing bushes love invite No tell-tales are, nor neighbors impolite;) I’ll hear his suit devoid of blame or fear. Impatiently the moment I await; Who nothing ventures, stays disconsolate. [Pg 56]
“Who knows thy destiny? when thou hast done, Perchance her cabinet may harbor thee, Whither all noble ambitious wits do run, A nest almost as full of good as she. ”

“ This place may seem for lovers’ leisure made, So close those elms inweave their lofty shade. The twining woodbine, how it climbs to breathe Refreshing sweets around us; all beneath, The ground with grass of cheerful green bespread, Through which the springing flower uprears its head. ”

“ We acknowledge great power, but we experience great weariness. Were I a poet, I would much rather have written the ‘Allegro,’ or the ‘Penseroso’ than all those.” Monstrous as this comment seems to us, there is a certain truth in it, the sonnet in large quantities always producing weariness; for which reason, as I suppose, Dante interspersed his love sonnets in the “Vita Nuova” and the “Convito,” with canzonets and ballads. His commentaries—often of a singular eloquence—also serve as a relief to the formal verse, as his melodious Tuscan lines do to the formality of his poetical metaphysics. ”

“ Much do they wrong our Henry, wise and kind, Morose who name thee, cynical to men, Forsaking manners civil and refined To build thyself in Walden woods a den,— Then flout society, flatter the rude hind. ”

“ Therefore be sure Thou, when the bridegroom with his feastful friends Passes to bliss at the mid hour of night, Hast gained thy entrance, virginwise and pure.” [Pg 30]
It is a truth for the initiated that love begins with worship, and favors piety in its first approaches; and we need not wonder if the devout poet in due time paid his amorous addresses to this bride of the Spirit, whose lamp must have been dim, indeed, if it did not reveal to her the lover in disguise of the brother in Israel. ”

“ UPON READING HIS OCTOGENARIAN POEMS.
The period to which the scholar of two and eighty years belongs, is seldom that of his youngest readers: it is more likely to be the epoch of his own golden youth, when his masters were before his eyes, and his companions were the books and the friends of his heart. Thus the aged Landor could not bring his thoughts down from the grand forms of Greek and Roman literature to which they were early accustomed ”

“ Or poesy entertain, grave Wordsworth’s lays, Melodious musing childhood’s glorious prime, Shakespeare’s warm sonnets or Venetian plays, Or that sad wizard Mariner’s marvellous Rime. Here in these haunts, this lovers’ company, Sweet Love’s symposium hold we happily. [Pg 66] “Books have always a secret influence on the understanding: we cannot at pleasure obliterate ideas; he that reads books of science, though without any desire for improvement, will grow more knowing; he that entertains himself with moral or religious treatises will imperceptibly advance to goodness ”