Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SOUL'S CRY (THE HIGHER ANTHROPOMORPHISM), by JOHN LAURENCE RENTOUL


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE SOUL'S CRY (THE HIGHER ANTHROPOMORPHISM), by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: My father, let thy little child
Last Line: "to land, by the hushed wondering sea!"
Alternate Author Name(s): Gage, Gervais
Subject(s): Children; Fathers & Daughters; Grief; Soul; Tears; Childhood; Sorrow; Sadness


I

MY Father, let Thy little child
Walk side by side with Thee,
And through the dark and o'er the wild,
Wherever Thou wilt be!
Or, if such prayer be rash and vain,
Hear Thy child's litany—
That Thou wilt walk, through joy or pain,
Upon my path with me!

O God, Thy goings through the storm,
And on the clouded sea,
And o'er Life's broken billows, form
A darkling mystery:
And, weary with the vain desire
Close to Thy steps to be,
Thy child's small feet fall short and tire:
I cannot go with Thee!

Lord, on the hand-breadth of my way
That seemeth far to me,
Let fall Thy light: at break of day
The doubt, the dark shall flee:
And, lone or thronged or smooth or rough
Or flinty let it be,
There shall be hope and cheer enough
If Thou wilt go with me.

Or, if Thou passest on afar,
With footfall none may see,
To touch some distant world or star
That also yearns for Thee,—
O, let some whisper from the height,
Faint though its breathing be,
Say, in my soul, by day and night
"God's Thought doth compass thee!"

II

The Voice spake low:—"Thou, too, hast strength
To track thy path upon the sea,
And reach the goal's far light at length,
And lift the veil o' the Mystery!
O will, to face and cleave the storm,
With hope to steer and soul to see,
Thou, too, canst chaos mould to form:
Child-spirit, thou art kin to Me.

"Thou, too, canst darkness turn to light,
And wring from discord harmony,
Or narrow all thy skill and might
To Love's lone cry and Frailty's plea.
Thou, too, canst bear thy doomful Cross,
And win through woe Life's Victory,
And gain Man's triumph through thy loss:
Come, little child, and follow Me!

"With small deft hand and beating heart
And eyes too full of tears to see,
When billows beat on oar and thwart
And wild winds sweep thy Galilee,—
Thou, too, canst rise and dare the dark,
And speak to Fear and Agony
Thy calm 'Be still!'—and bring thy bark
To land, by the hushed wondering sea!"




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