THE TEMPTER AT THE SIDE. SEEST thou the shadow dogging at thy feet, Without the breath of any at thy side? Lo! there is one whom thou shalt never meet, Though thou do travel earth both long and wide; Never in lonely field-in crowded street In joy or grief; whatever thee betide, To meet thee face to face, nowhere shall he abide. Seest thou it at thy feet? Know'st thou him at thy side? He has been nigh thee since thy tottering pace Anigh thee, yet, he hath his constant place, Now that with strong men thou hast taken stand. Go as thou wilt, thou winnest not the race; Stay where thou wilt, in this or farthest land, Untired, he leaves thee not, whose face thou hast not scann'd. He ever hath his place: Ever is he at hand. Albeit in the growing time of night, When the green things are starting everywhere, And bud and leaf, sure of its tiny right, Stretches towards its God for its blest share: Then on thy longing mind celestial might Has lighted down, and with quick vigour there The dark one loitered there. Albeit in the stir and throng of men, Catching warm influence from the glance of eye If need were, thy lone voice must rise on high, nigh. Amid the crowd of men, On thee he kept his eye. Albeit in the home's dear sunny scene, Where low and homelike sounds of birds and bees Float ever, straining through the sea of sheen, And wide peace bounds the world's strange haunts from these: In that man's noblest place-thy soul has been Like a blest soul, familiar and at ease, Sharing a heavenly love that sin could never seize; He was in that pure scene, Thou then wast all at ease. Bethink thee how thy well-kept heart has known Have crept and overcome it, slow and loth; How a foul breath, o'er its bright vision blown, Has buried all in the thick fog of sloth: Dost thou not know him yet, tempter and sharer, both? When willing and when loth. God set that shadow dogging at thy feet, When for God's light of day man's light has been OUR bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lowered, And the sentinel stars set their watch in the sky; And thousands had sunk on the ground overpowered, The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die. When reposing that night on my pallet of straw, And thrice ere the morning I dreamt it again. Methought from the battle-field's dreadful array, To the home of my fathers, that welcomed me back. I flew to the pleasant fields, traversed so oft In life's morning march, when my bosom was young; I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft, And knew the sweet strain that the corn-reapers sung. Then pledged we the wine-cup, and fondly I swore From my home and my weeping friends never to part; My little ones kissed me a thousand times o'er, And my wife sobbed aloud in her fulness of heart. Stay, stay with us,-rest, thou art weary and worn; But sorrow returned with the dawning of morn, CAMPBELL |