The Voice of the Wise

They sat with hearts untroubled,         The clear sky sparkled above,     And an ancient wisdom bubbled         From the lips of a youthful love.          They read in a coloured history         Of Egypt and of the Nile,     And half it seemed a mystery,         Familiar, half, the while.          Till living out of the story         Grew old Egyptian men,     And a shadow looked forth Rory         And said, "We meet again!"          And over Aileen a maiden         Looked back through the ages dim:     She laughed, and her eyes were laden         With an old-time love for him.          In a mist came temples thronging         With sphinxes seen in a row,     And the rest of the day was a longing         For their homes of long ago.          "We'd go there if they'd let us,"         They said with wounded pride:     "They never think when they pet us         We are old like that inside."          There was some one round them straying         The whole of the long day through,     Who seemed to say, "I am playing         At hide-and-seek with you."          And one thing after another         Was whispered out of the air,     How God was a big kind brother         Whose home was in everywhere.          His light like a smile come glancing         From the cool, cool winds as they pass;     From the flowers in heaven dancing         And the stars that shine in the grass,          And the clouds in deep blue wreathing,         And most from the mountains tall,     But God like a wind goes breathing         A heart-light of gold in all.          It grows like a tree and pushes         Its way through the inner gloom,     And flowers in quick little rushes         Of love to a magic bloom.          And no one need sigh now or sorrow         Whenever the heart-light flies,     For it comes again on some morrow         And nobody ever dies.          The heart of the Wise was beating         In the children's heart that day,     And many a thought came fleeting,         And fancies solemn and gay.          They were grave in a way divining         How childhood was taking wings,     And the wonder world was shining         With vast eternal things.          The solemn twilight fluttered         Like the plumes of seraphim,     And they felt what things were uttered         In the sunset voice of Him.          They lingered long, for dearer         Than home were the mountain places     Where God from the stars dropt nearer         Their pale, dreamy faces.          Their very hearts from beating         They stilled in awed delight.     For Spirit and children were meeting         In the purple, ample night.          Dusk its ash-grey blossoms sheds on violet skies     Over twilight mountains where the heart-songs rise,     Rise and fall and fade again from earth to air:     Earth renews the music sweeter.    Oh, come there.     Come, ma cushla, come, as in ancient times     Rings aloud and the underland with faery chimes.     Down the unseen ways as strays each tinkling fleece     Winding ever onward to a fold of peace,     So my dreams go straying in a land more fair;     Half I tread the dew-wet grasses, half wander there.     Fade your glimmering eyes in a world grown cold:     Come, ma cushla, with me to the mountain's fold,     Where the bright ones call us waving to and fro:     Come, my children, with me to the Ancient go. --October 15, 1896