There is no power in the gloom of hell
  To quench those spirits’ fire;
There is no power in the bliss of heaven
  To bid them not aspire;
But somewhere in the eternal plan
  That strength, that life survive,
And like the files on Lookout’s crest,
  Above death’s clouds they strive.

A chosen corps, they are marching on
  In a wider field than ours;
Those bright battalions still fulfill
  The scheme of the heavenly powers;
And high brave thoughts float down to us,
  The echoes of that far fight,
Like the flash of a distant picket’s gun
  Through the shades of the severing night.

No fear for them!  In our lower field
  Let us keep our arms unstained,
That at last we be worthy to stand with them
  On the shining heights they’ve gained. 
We shall meet and greet in closing ranks
  In Time’s declining sun,
When the bugles of God shall sound recall
  And the battle of life be won.

Love’s Prayer

If Heaven would hear my prayer,
  My dearest wish would be,
Thy sorrows not to share
  But take them all on me;
If Heaven would hear my prayer.

I’d beg with prayers and sighs
  That never a tear might flow
From out thy lovely eyes,
  If Heaven might grant it so;
Mine be the tears and sighs.

No cloud thy brow should cover,
  But smiles each other chase
From lips to eyes all over
  Thy sweet and sunny face;
The clouds my heart should cover.

That all thy path be light
  Let darkness fall on me;
If all thy days be bright,
  Mine black as night could be;
My love would light my night.

For thou art more than life,
  And if our fate should set
Life and my love at strife,
  How could I then forget
I love thee more than life?

Christine

The beauty of the northern dawns,
  Their pure, pale light is thine;
Yet all the dreams of tropic nights
  Within thy blue eyes shine. 
Not statelier in their prisoning seas
  The icebergs grandly move,
But in thy smile is youth and joy,
  And in thy voice is love.

Thou art like Hecla’s crest that stands
  So lonely, proud, and high,
No earthly thing may come between
  Her summit and the sky. 
The sun in vain may strive to melt
  Her crown of virgin snow—­
But the great heart of the mountain glows
  With deathless fire below.

Expectation

Roll on, O shining sun,
  To the far seas,
Bring down, ye shades of eve,
  The soft, salt breeze! 
Shine out, O stars, and light
My darling’s pathway bright,
As through the summer night
  She comes to me.

No beam of any star
  Can match her eyes;
Her smile the bursting day
  In light outvies. 
Her voice—­the sweetest thing
Heard by the raptured spring
When waking wild-woods ring—­
  She comes to me.