Henry Meade Bland Poems

This was the place wherein the singer tuned
His harp and listening, caught the immortal strain.
...

Caught in a surge of life, with all my might
I deeply loved; and my reward is this:
That I have learned what is the beautiful
...

He lighted his keen, sure-working brain
As an engine is fired; and, starred and arrayed,
He sped in joy to the surging main,
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Love brings the blush into the fair wild rose,
And paints the white upon the heron's plume;
And flings into wild dream the prophet's prose,
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The wind and the night and the stormy sea,
And I am one with the mighty three!
For the storm in my brain is sighing ever;
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Our white-winged ship is sailing, sailing
Into the mild sea-calm of the past;
And the twilight stars are flashing, paling,
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I am fire and dew and sunshine,
I am mist on the foamy wave,
I'm the rippling note from the field-lark;s throat,
I'm the jewel hid in the cave.
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On Shasta's brow the thunder sleeps;
But, with the lightning's blazing rod
That burns o'er Lassen's fiery steeps,
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With a sign for the unknown land fevering his brain,
With a pulse as strong as the engine-beat on the rail;
...