Analysis of The Three Guides

1
Spirit of earth! thy hand is chill.
          I've felt its icy clasp;
And shuddering I remember still
          That stony-hearted grasp.
Thine eye bids love and joy depart,
          O turn its gaze from me!
It presses down my sinking heart; --
          I will not walk with thee!

2
'Wisdom is mine,' I've heard thee say,
          'Beneath my searching eye,
All mist and darkness melt away,
          Phantoms and fables fly.
Before me, truth can stand alone,
          The naked, solid truth:
And man matured my worth will own,
          If I am shunned by youth.

3
'Firm is my tread, and sure, though slow:
          My footsteps never slide:
And he that follows me shall know
          I am the surest guide.'
Thy boast is vain: but were it true
          That thou couldst safely steer
Life's rough and devious pathway through
          Such guidance I should fear.

4
How could I bear to walk for aye,
          With eyes to earthward prone,
O'er trampled weeds, and miry clay,
          And sand, and flinty stone.
Never the glorious view to greet
          Of hill and dale and sky,
To see that Nature's charms are sweet
          Or feel that Heaven is nigh?

5
If, in my heart arose a spring --
          A gush of thought divine,
At once stagnation thou wouldst bring
          With that cold touch of thine!
If glancing up, I sought to snatch
          But one glimpse of the sky,
My baffled gaze would only catch
          Thy heartless, cold grey eye.

6
If, to the breezes wandering near,
          I listened eagerly,
And deemed an angel's tongue to hear
          That whispered hope to me,
That heavenly music would be drowned
          In thy harsh, droning voice,
Nor inward thought, nor sight, nor sound
          Might my sad soul rejoice.

7
Dull is thine ear; unheard by thee
          The still small voice of Heaven.
Thine eyes are dim, and cannot see
          The helps that God has given.
There is a bridge, o'er every flood,
          Which thou canst not perceive,
A path, through every tangled wood;
          But thou will not believe.

8
Striving to make thy way by force,
          Toil-spent and bramble torn,
Thou'lt fell the tree that stops thy course,
          And burst through briar and thorn;
And pausing by the river's side,
          Poor reasoner, thou wilt deem,
By casting pebbles in its tide
          To cross the swelling stream.

9
Right through the flinty rock thou'lt try
          Thy toilsome way to bore,
Regardless of the pathway nigh
          That would conduct thee o'er.
Not only are thou, then, unkind,
          And freezing cold to me,
But unbelieving, deaf, and blind --
          I will not walk with thee!

10
Spirit of Pride! thy wings are strong;
          Thine eyes like lightning shine;
Ecstatic joys to thee belong
          And powers almost divine.
But 'tis a false destructive blaze,
          Within those eyes I see,
Turn hence their fascinating gaze --
          I will not follow thee!

11
'Coward and fool!' thou mayst reply;
          'Walk on the common sod;
Go trace, with timid foot and eye,
          The steps by others trod.
'Tis best the beaten path to keep,
          The ancient faith to hold,
To pasture with thy fellow sheep,
          And lie within the fold.

12
'Cling to the earth, poor grovelling worm,
          'Tis not for thee to soar
Against the fury of the storm,
          Amid the thunder's roar.
There's glory in that daring strife
          Unknown, undreamt by thee;
There's speechless rapture in the life
          Of those who follow me!'

13
Yes; I have seen thy votaries oft,
          Upheld by thee their guide,
In strength and courage mount aloft
          The steepy mountain-side;
I've seen them stand against the sky,
          And gazing from below
Beheld thy lightning in their eye,
          Thy triumph on their brow.

14
Oh! I have felt what glory then --
          What transport must be theirs'
So far above their fellow men,
          Above their toils and cares,
Inhaling nature's