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The Clearer Self Post by :mr.shih Category :Poems Author :Archibald Lampman Date :June 2011 Read :764

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The Clearer Self

Before me grew the human soul,
And after I am dead and gone,
Through grades of effort and control
The marvellous work shall still go on.

Each mortal in his little span
Hath only lived, if he have shown
What greatness there can be in man
Above the measured and the known;

How through the ancient layers of night,
In gradual victory secure,
Grows ever with increasing light
The Energy serene and pure:

The Soul, that from a monstrous past,
From age to age, from hour to hour,
Feels upward to some height at last
Of unimagined grace and power.

Though yet the sacred fire be dull,
In folds of thwarting matter furled,
Ere death be nigh, while life is full,
O Master Spirit of the world,

Grant me to know, to seek, to find,
In some small measure though it be,
Emerging from the waste and blind,
The clearer self, the grander me!

(The end)
Archibald Lampman's poem: Clearer Self

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To The Prophetic Soul To The Prophetic Soul

To The Prophetic Soul
What are these bustlers at the gate Of now or yesterday, These playthings in the hand of Fate, That pass, and point no way; These clinging bubbles whose mock fires For ever dance and gleam, Vain foam that gathers and expires Upon the world's dark stream; These gropers betwixt right and wrong, That seek an unknown goal, Most ignorant, when they seem most strong; What are they, then, O Soul, That thou shouldst covet overmuch A tenderer range of heart, And yet at every dreamed-of touch

May Evening May Evening

May Evening
The breath of Spring-time at this twilight hour Comes through the gathering glooms, And bears the stolen sweets of many a flower Into my silent rooms. Where hast thou wandered, gentle gale, to find The perfumes thou dost bring? By brooks, that through the wakening meadows wind, Or brink of rushy spring? Or woodside , in little companies, The early wild-flowers rise, Or sheltered lawn ,