Classic and Contemporary Poetry
MORAL ALCHEMY, by HORACE SMITH Poet's Biography First Line: The toils of alchemists, whose vain pursuit Last Line: And man's most welcome hymn is grateful cheerfulness. Alternate Author Name(s): Smith, Horatio Subject(s): Alchemy & Alchemists; Grief; Morality; Nature; Sorrow; Sadness; Ethics | ||||||||
THE toils of Alchemists, whose vain pursuit Sought to transmute Dross into gold, -- their secrets and their store Of mystic lore, What to the jibing modern do they seem? An ignis fatuus chase, a phantasy, a dream! Yet for enlightened moral Alchemists There still exists A philosophic stone, whose magic spell No tongue may tell, Which renovates the soul's decaying health, And what it touches turns to purest mental wealth. This secret is revealed in every trace Of Nature's face, Whose seeming frown invariably tends To smiling ends, Transmuting ills into their opposite, And all that shocks the sense to subsequent delight. Seems Earth unlovely in her robe of snow? Then look below, Where Nature in her subterranean Ark, Silent and dark, Already has each floral germ unfurled That shall revive and clothe the dead and naked world. Behold those perished flowers to earth consigned -- They, like mankind, Seek in their grave new birth. By nature's power Each in its hour Clothed in new beauty, from its tomb shall spring, And from its tube or chalice heavenward incense fling. Laboratories of a wider fold I now behold, Where are prepared the harvests yet unborn Of wine, oil, corn. -- In those mute rayless banquet-halls I see Myriads of coming feasts with all their revelry. Yon teeming and minuter cells enclose The embryos Of fruits and seeds, food for the feathered race, Whose chaunted grace, Swelling in choral gratitude on high, Shall with thanksgiving anthems melodize the sky. And what materials, mystic Alchemist! Dost thou enlist To fabricate this ever-varied feast, For man, bird, beast? Whence the life, plenty, music, beauty, bloom? From silence, languor, death, unsightliness and gloom! From Nature's magic hand whose touch makes sadness Eventual gladness, The reverent moral Alchemist may learn The art to turn Fate's roughest, hardest, most forbidding dross, Into the mental gold that knows not change or loss. Lose we a valued friend? -- To soothe our woe Let us bestow On those who still survive an added love, So shall we prove, Howe'er the dear departed we deplore, In friendship's sum and substance no diminished store. Lose we our health? -- Now may we fully know What thanks we owe For our sane years, perchance of lengthened scope; Now does our hope Point to the day when sickness, taking flight, Shall make us better feel health's exquisite delight. In losing fortune, many a lucky elf Has found himself. -- As all our moral bitters are design'd To brace the mind, And renovate its healthy tone, the wise Their sorest trials hail as blessings in disguise. There is no gloom on earth; for God above Chastens in love, Transmuting sorrows into golden joy Free from alloy, His dearest attribute is still to bless, And man's most welcome hymn is grateful cheerfulness. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A POEM ON MORAL LEADERSHIP AS A POLITICAL DILEMMA by JUNE JORDAN SONG OF SOCIAL DESPAIR by MARVIN BELL THE PHOTOGRAPHER'S ANNUAL by NORMAN DUBIE TWO HORSES AND A DOG by JAMES GALVIN FIN-DE-SIECLE BLUES by CAROLYN KIZER HYBRIDS OF WAR: A MORALITY POEM: 4. THE MORAL by KAREN SWENSON URANIA; THE WOMAN IN THE MOON: THIS STORY MORALIZED by WILLIAM BASSE ADDRESS TO THE MUMMY AT BELZONI'S EXHIBITION by HORACE SMITH |
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