THE BUILDING OF THE HOUSE.
But of substantial masonry,
Symmetrical in all its parts:
Fit in its strength to stand sublime,
For seventy years of mortal time,
Defiant of the storm and rain,
And well attempered to the clime
In every cranny, nook and pane.
I'll build it so, that if the blast
Around it whistle loud and long,
The tempest when its rage has pass'd
Shall leave its rafters doubly strong.
I'll build it so, that travellers by
Shall view it with admiring eye,
For its commodiousness and grace:
Firm on the ground-straight to the sky-
A meek, but goodly dwelling-place.
Thus noble in its outward form ;
Within I'll build it clean and white,
Not cheerless cold, but happy warm,
And ever open to the light.
No tortuous passages or stair,
No chamber foul, or dungeon lair,
No gloomy attic shall there be,
But wide apartments order'd fair
And redolent of purity.
With three compartments furnished well,
The house shall be a home complete;
Wherein, should circumstance rebel,
The humble tenant may retreat.
The first a room wherein to deal
With men for human nature's weal,
A room where he may work or play,
And all his social life reveal
In its pure texture day by day.
The second, for his wisdom sought,
Where, with his chosen book or friend, He may employ his active thought
To virtuous and exalted end.
A chamber lofty and serene,
With a door-window to the green,
Smooth-shaven sward and arching bowers, Where lore or talk or song between, May gild his intellectual hours.
The third an oratory dim,
But beautiful, where he may raise,
Unheard of men, his daily hymn,
Of love and gratitude and praise.
Where he may revel in the light
Of things unseen and infinite,
And learn how little he may be,
And yet how awful in thy sight,
Ineffable Eternity!
Such is the house that I must build
This is the cottage · this the dome,—
And this the palace, treasure-fill'd
For an immortal's earthly home.
THE BUILDING OF THE HOUSE.
Oh noble work of toil and care!
Oh task most difficult and rare!
Oh simple but most arduous plan!
To raise a dwelling-place so fair,
The sanctuary of a Man.
THE DIONYSIA: OR FESTIVALS OF BACCHUS.
'The Lantern of Diogenes-probably a corruption of "Dionysia,” is one of the most celebrated and the most beautiful of the ruins of ancient Athens. The Choragi to whom such monuments were dedicated, and perhaps by whom also they were erected, were persons chosen by the Athenian citizens to preside at, and defray the cost of the singers, dancers, and musicians, employed to celebrate the Dionysia, or festivals of Bacchus. On these occasions tragedies and comedies were exhibited in the theatre, and hymns in honor of Bacchus, accompanied by the flute, were chanted in the Odeum.'
My fancy travelled back three thousand years
To find the meaning of the ancient days,
And disencumber their simplicity
From the corruptions of a later time.
I fashioned in my mind, the god-like shape
Of Dionysius, mighty conqueror,
Who taught the early nations how to live :
No vulgar Bacchus straddling on a cask
Drunken and bestial, but a king of men;
Noble in intellect, and fair in form,
With ivy and with budding violets crowned,
And bearing on his cheerful face, the glow
Of kindly wisdom and perpetual youth.
So to my thought appeared the demi-god;
The same that taught the ignorant hinds of Greece
To plough the soil, and reap the annual corn,
THE DIONYSIA: OR FESTIVALS OF BACCHUS. 147
That taught the grateful villagers to press
The grape and apple for refreshing drink,
To clip the goat, and shear the sheep for wool,
To draw from willing Earth its constant stores
Of blessings, and be thankful for the gifts,
Proving their thankfulness by temperate use:
The same that swept his armies o'er the East
And conquered India — mightiest name maligned –
Philosopher and Hero. Once his praise
Resounded o'er the smiling vales of Greece,
And youths and maidens came from all the bowers
To chant loud hymns in honor of his name;
And Athens, ere she rotted to her fall
With luxury, lasciviousness and sloth,'
Vied with all Greece to celebrate his feasts
With greatest pomp of high solemnity.
Come from your graves, ideas of the past!
And live again in song. The Athenian streets
Teem with a multitude of young and old,
The Archons, and the people, and the priests,
To celebrate the Dionysian rites,
With dance, and song, and joyous revelry.
A troop of youths come first, who with them bear
Two sacred vessels. One is filled with wine,
And one with water: holiest the last,
For water is the mother of the vine,
The nurse and fountain of fecundity,
The adorner and refresher of the world.
Then come a hundred virgins - flower of Greece -
Clad in white robes, with ivy in their hair,
Who carry baskets filled with choicest fruits,
With apples and pomegranates, figs and grapes,
|