Sunday, December 14, 2025

The Phantasmal Reproof

by Major Calder Campbell.

Originally published in Hood's Magazine and Comic Miscellany (Andrew Spottiswoode) vol.1 (1845).


        The snow was falling rapidly
                Upon the fallen leaves;
        The shivering sparrow twittered low
                Beneath the dripping caves:—
        In its plaintive notes trace ye no thoughts
                Of the Autumn's gather'd sheaves?

        The snow was falling rapidly,
                With a faint and whispering sound;
        I looked forth on the wintry earth.
                But the thick flakes—whirling round
        Hid land, and sea, and sky from me.
                And all, but my own heart-wound!

        Beside me, (as I sat alone,
                Beghasted with wild dreams),
        A shadowy SHAPE glode thro' the gloom,
                And by the woodfire's gleams
        I saw its face, where grief and grace
                Set their united beams.

        An antique chair stood opposite,
                Of black and carved oak;
        And there it sat and gazed at me,
                But never a word it spoke:
        Till I with sign of holy cross
                The heavy silence broke.

        "What thing art thou, that breakest in
                Upon my loneliness?
        The closed doors are closed still—
                Thy presence doth oppress
        My very breath, as if cold death
                Life's wrongs came to redress!"

        A faint, low sound then answered me,
                A voice that seemed to pray
        In language sweet, but incomplete,
                With words that died away—
        Like the music of the standing corn,
                On a breezy autumn day!

        "I am thy better angel: lo!
                Why sittest thou alone?
        Why mourn'st thou o'er thine own scarr'd heart,
                Unwilling to atone
        For the blood thou hast shed from the undone dead
        And the tears of the living undone?

        "The grave is deep where she doth sleep,
                Whose love for thee was strong,
        As was thy hate for her estate
                Of poverty and wrong:
        She gave not her life to thy kinder knife,
                But to thy cruel tongue!

        "There was no falsehood in her heart—
                No perfidy to thee;
        But thy words unkind, like a sudden wind
                That charmeth the summer sea,
        Awoke in her that fearful stir
                Which wrought her destiny.

        "She lieth in a grave unblest.
                From sacred fane remote;
        She sufforeth in that suffering place
                Which sin for man hath bought:
        And her soul calls there, for thine to share
                The evil thou hast wrought!

        "Look not upon thy wounded heart,
                But look upon its cure;—
        There is a God in the heavens high
                Can send a spirit pure,
        To fill the place of that disgrace
                Which tempts thee with a lure!

        "Look not upon thy darksome heart,
                But look to find some light,
        Wherewith thou may'st each loathsome part
                Illumine, till the sight
        Be clean unto the Angel-race
                That lives in regions bright.

        "Mix with thy fellow-men, and give
                To others' griefs and cares
        The sympathy which I give thee,—
                And, by assisting theirs,
        Assistance win from Him whom sin
                Obeyeth, 'mid despairs!

        "Befriend thy brother man, and thou
                Shalt so thyself befriend;
        Nor idly wail for idleness,
                But task thyself to mend
        The rents and tatters of thy soul.
                Before its world-works end!

        "The wrath of Heaven above our sins
                Stoops, hawk-like, hovering
        But them, or it, we cannot see
                Till down upon us spring
        The talons of that vengeful bird,
                With death beneath its wing!

        Thou canst not bring to life again
                Whom thou from life hast sent;
        Thou canst not to the frenzied brain
                Restore the teardrops, blent
        With guilt and shame,—which thou did'st claim
                —But thou may'st still repent!

        "Up, and arouse thee! Falleth snow
                On wintry nights, that thou
        May'st cower in selfishness and fears
                O'er thine own ails, as now?—
        To the chilly street fare forth, and meet
                Pale heads, which Want doth bow!"

        It ceased, that voice—It spake no more,—
                But still I listened on:
        I heard no rain on the window pane,
                I looked, but shape was none
        In that antique chair—and nought was there,
                But I and my heart alone!

        I bowed my head in silent prayer—
                I prayed that I might be
        IMindful of others more than self—
                And so, by sympathy.
        Cleanse my sinful heart of the selfishness
                That made it black to see.

        I did not pray that I might die,
                As I had wont to pray;
        I pleaded hard for life, that I
                Might make it—day by day—
        Useful and sweet to other men.
                And bright ev'n in decay.

        And when I raised my bended head
                From out my clasped hands,
        In at the casement—like a flight
                Of arrowy golden brands—
        The moon its cheerful radiance sent
                Where the sparrow, twittering, stands.

        And (for the snow had ceased to fall)
                I saw the skies all blue,
        And bright with stars; and sea and shore
                Came clearly to my view:—
        I felt my heart-wound still—but saw
                The griefs of others too!

The Brilliant Keeper

by the Author of "East Lynne" [Ellen Wood]. Originally published in St. James's Magazine (W. Kent) vol. 3 # 11 (Feb 1862)....