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Won't you help support DayPoems? The Dark CompanionBy James Brunton Stephens6/17/1835-6/29/1902There is an orb that mocked the lore of sages Long time with mystery of strange unrest; The steadfast law that rounds the starry ages Gave doubtful token of supreme behest. But they who knew the ways of God unchanging, Concluded some far influence unseen -- Some kindred sphere through viewless ethers ranging, Whose strong persuasions spanned the void between. And knowing it alone through perturbation And vague disquiet of another star, They named it, till the day of revelation, "The Dark Companion" -- darkly guessed afar. But when, through new perfection of appliance, Faith merged at length in undisputed sight, The mystic mover was revealed to science, No Dark Companion, but -- a speck of light. No Dark Companion, but a sun of glory; No fell disturber, but a bright compeer; The shining complement that crowned the story; The golden link that made the meaning clear. Oh, Dark Companion, journeying ever by us, Oh, grim Perturber of our works and ways -- Oh, potent Dread, unseen, yet ever nigh us, Disquieting all the tenor of our days -- Oh, Dark Companion, Death, whose wide embraces O'ertake remotest change of clime and skies -- Oh, Dark Companion, Death, whose grievous traces Are scattered shreds of riven enterprise -- Thou, too, in this wise, when, our eyes unsealing, The clearer day shall change our faith to sight, Shalt show thyself, in that supreme revealing, No Dark Companion, but a thing of light. No ruthless wrecker of harmonious order; No alien heart of discord and caprice; A beckoning light upon the Blissful Border; A kindred element of law and peace. So, too, our strange unrest in this our dwelling, The trembling that thou joinest with our mirth, Are but thy magnet-communings compelling Our spirits farther from the scope of earth. So, doubtless, when beneath thy potence swerving, 'Tis that thou lead'st us by a path unknown, Our seeming deviations all subserving The perfect orbit round the central throne. The night wind moans. The Austral wilds are round me. The loved who live -- ah, God! how few they are! I looked above; and heaven in mercy found me This parable of comfort in a star. DayPoems Poem No. 861 Comment on DayPoems? If you are like us, you have strong feelings about poetry, and about each poem you read. Let it all out! Comment on this poem, any poem, DayPoems, other poetry places or the art of poetry at DayPoems Feedback. Won't you help support DayPoems? Click here to learn more about how you can keep DayPoems on the Web . . . Copyright The DayPoems web site, www.daypoems.net, is copyright 2001-2006 by Timothy Keith Bovee. All rights reserved. The authors of poetry and other material appearing on DayPoems retain full rights to their work. Any requests for publication in other venues must be negotiated separately with the authors. The editor of DayPoems will gladly attempt to assist in putting interested parties in contact with the authors. |
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