LUSTRATION

2007 MARKS THE 200TH ANNIVERSARY OF THE BIRTH OF U.S. POET, HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. NOW IS A FITTING TIME TO LET THE BEAUTY OF HIS POETRY LUSTRATE OUR SOULS. TO LET HIS WORDS, HIS RHYTHMS, HIS RHYMES, HIS THOUGHTS, LIKE A PALINGENESIS, TRANSPORT THE READER INTO AIR THAT'S BETTER, PURER, HIGHER. FOR LONGFELLOW, NATURE CAN HELP ELEVATE US - AND GOD.

FRIENDS:
FRIENDS MY SOUL WITH JOY REMEMBERS!
HOW LIKE QUIVERING FLAMES THEY START,
WHEN I FAN THE LIVING EMBERS
ON THE HEARTH-STONE OF MY HEART!

MORNING:
THINK, EVERY MORNING WHEN THE SUN PEEPS THROUGH
THE DIM, LEAF-LATTICED WINDOWS OF THE GROVE,
HOW JUBILANT THE HAPPY BIRDS RENEW
THEIR OLD, MELODIOUS MADRIGALS OF LOVE!

SNOW:
OUT OF THE BOSOM OF THE AIR,
OUT OF THE CLOUD-FOLDS OF HER GARMENTS SHAKEN,
OVER THE WOODLANDS BROWN AND BARE,
OVER THE HARVEST-FIELDS FORSAKEN,
SILENT, AND SOFT, AND SLOW
DESCENTS THE SNOW.

THE SEA:
THE SEA AWOKE AT MIDNIGHT FROM ITS SLEEP,
AND ROUND THE PEBBLY BEECHES FAR AND WIDE
I HEARD THE FIRST WAVE OF THE RISING TIDE
RUSH ONWARD WITH UNINTERRUPTED SWEEP;

THE SEA:
THE TIDE RISES, THE TIDE FALLS,
THE TWILIGHT DARKENS, THE CURLEW CALLS;

YOUTH:
THERE ARE THINGS OF WHICH I MAY NOT SPEAK;
THERE ARE DREAMS THAT CANNOT DIE;
THERE ARE THOUGHTS THAT MAKE THE STRONG HEART WEAK,
AND BRING A PALLOR INTO THE CHEEK,
AND A MIST BEFORE THE EYE.

YOUTH:
A BOY'S WILL IS THE WIND'S WILL,
AND THE THOUGHTS OF YOUTH ARE LONG, LONG THOUGHTS.

YOUTH:
ENJOY THE SPRING OF LOVE AND YOUTH,
TO SOME GOOD ANGEL LEAVE THE REST;
FOR TIME WILL TEACH THEE SOON THE TRUTH,
THERE ARE NO BIRDS IN LAST YEAR'S NET!

NIGHT:
THE DAY IS DONE, AND THE DARKNESS
FALLS FROM THE WINGS OF NIGHT,
AS A FEATHER IS WAFTED DOWNWARD
FROM AN EAGLE IN HIS FLIGHT.

AND THE NIGHT SHALL BE FILLED WITH MUSIC,
AND THE CARES, THAT INFEST THE DAY,
SHALL FOLD THEIR TENTS, LIKE THE ARABS,
AND AS SILENTLY STEAL AWAY.

FOREST:
THIS IS THE FOREST PRIMEVAL. THE MURMURING PINES AND THE HEMLOCKS,
BEARDED WITH MOSS, AND IN GARMENTS GREEN, INDISTINCT IN THE TWILIGHT,

THE MOON:
AS A PALE PHANTOM WITH A LAMP
ASCENDS SOME RUIN'S HAUNTED STAIR,
SO GLIDES THE MOON ALONG THE DAMP
MYSTERIOUS CHAMBERS OF THE AIR:

NIGHT: FINALLY, A SPECIAL LONGFELLOW POEM, ONE OF HIS SONNETS, 14 LINES OF RHYMING, IAMBIC PENTAMETER INSPIRATION.

THE GALAXY

TORRENT OF LIGHT AND RIVER OF THE AIR,
ALONG WHOSE BED THE GLIMMERING STARS ARE SEEN
LIKE GOLD AND SILVER SANDS IN SOME RAVINE
WHERE MOUNTAIN STREAMS HAVE LEFT THEIR CHANNELS BARE!
THE SPANIARD SEES IN THEE THE PATHWAY, WHERE
HIS PATRON SAINT DESCENDED IN THE SHEEN
OF HIS CELESTIAL ARMOR, ON SERENE
AND QUIET NIGHTS, WHEN ALL THE HEAVENS WERE FAIR.
NOT THIS I SEE, NOR YET THE ANCIENT FABLE
OF PHAETON'S WILD COURSE, THAT SCORCHED THE SKIES
WHERE'ER THE HOOFS OF HIS HOT COURSERS TROD;
BUT THE WHITE DRIFT OF WORLDS O'ER CHASMS OF SABLE,
THE STAR-DUST THAT IS WHIRLED ALOFT AND FLIES
FROM THE INVISIBLE CHARIOT-WHEELS OF GOD.

BREATHE DEEP AND REFRESH IN THE WELL-SPRING OF WORDSWORTH’S WORDS.





NIGHT