Poems (Helen Jenkins)/The Sibyl's Prophecy
THE SIBYL'S PROPHECY.
A wandering sibyl met a queenly maiden,
Whose heart with pride and passion seemed o'erladen.
She asked the dame her future to reveal,
And show her truthfully life's woe and weal.
The sibyl answered: "Unto me is given
The power to read the oracles of Heaven.
If thou dost deem the picture over-wrought,
Of evil too prophetic, ask me not
Why thus it seemeth,—only trust and wait,
And thou shalt see God's wisdom, soon or late.
Whose heart with pride and passion seemed o'erladen.
She asked the dame her future to reveal,
And show her truthfully life's woe and weal.
The sibyl answered: "Unto me is given
The power to read the oracles of Heaven.
If thou dost deem the picture over-wrought,
Of evil too prophetic, ask me not
Why thus it seemeth,—only trust and wait,
And thou shalt see God's wisdom, soon or late.
"Thou hast a peerless form, a comely face;
For thy immortal soul fit dwelling-place.
And dost thou know it is a temple grand,
So strangely fashioned by God's sovereign hand?
This structure, wonderful in every part,
Contains a sacred shrine,—thy woman's heart.
And the Great King, the Almighty One,
Blest it, and called it good when it was done.
Thou art His child,—princess if He be king,—
And He has left to thee its care and furnishing.
For thy immortal soul fit dwelling-place.
And dost thou know it is a temple grand,
So strangely fashioned by God's sovereign hand?
This structure, wonderful in every part,
Contains a sacred shrine,—thy woman's heart.
And the Great King, the Almighty One,
Blest it, and called it good when it was done.
Thou art His child,—princess if He be king,—
And He has left to thee its care and furnishing.
"Into thy presence troop gay forms and faces,
Bright Joy, with Mirth and many sportive Graces.
Fair Hopes, sweet Fancies people every room,
Thronging the sunny chambers of thy home.
Here, Duty scarcely seems a favored guest.
Pleasure and Folly rule with high behest;
While Pride asserts her power to sway
The mystic cycles of thy destiny.
On dancing feet, the merry moments go,
With scarce a thought for all the wide world's woe.
Bright Joy, with Mirth and many sportive Graces.
Fair Hopes, sweet Fancies people every room,
Thronging the sunny chambers of thy home.
Here, Duty scarcely seems a favored guest.
Pleasure and Folly rule with high behest;
While Pride asserts her power to sway
The mystic cycles of thy destiny.
On dancing feet, the merry moments go,
With scarce a thought for all the wide world's woe.
"Years fly. With busy fingers, time and change
W ill bring to thee thy duties new and strange.
Life teaches sadder lessons, sterner truth
Than thou hast ever dreamed of in thy youth.
They are but myths, though precious in their seeming,
The dreams which all thy life thou hast been dreaming.
Thou wilt awaken from these visions fair,
When chilling sorrows meet thee, here and there.
Weary, and burdened oft with griefs untold,
And needless chidings, will thy heart grow cold.
W ill bring to thee thy duties new and strange.
Life teaches sadder lessons, sterner truth
Than thou hast ever dreamed of in thy youth.
They are but myths, though precious in their seeming,
The dreams which all thy life thou hast been dreaming.
Thou wilt awaken from these visions fair,
When chilling sorrows meet thee, here and there.
Weary, and burdened oft with griefs untold,
And needless chidings, will thy heart grow cold.
"Trouble will come, with weariness and pain,
Where now, health, strength and beauty only reign.
Then gladly wouldst thou take the good King's hand,
And journey onward to the Better Land.
Alas! alas! thou canst not hasten there;
And if with breaking heart, must tarry here.
All have their work to do,—a vineyard fair
In the Great Master's realm,—somewhere,
A lifework grand, or dark and desolate;
Whate'er, where'er the King may designate.
Where now, health, strength and beauty only reign.
Then gladly wouldst thou take the good King's hand,
And journey onward to the Better Land.
Alas! alas! thou canst not hasten there;
And if with breaking heart, must tarry here.
All have their work to do,—a vineyard fair
In the Great Master's realm,—somewhere,
A lifework grand, or dark and desolate;
Whate'er, where'er the King may designate.
"Youth's sunshine fades. Shadows come darkly creeping
Over the world, till Faith seems dead, or sleeping.
One by one, fond dreams, bright hopes will fade;
And fairest forms be numbered with the dead.
With thine own hands oft must a grave be made,
Wherein, some cherished hope or joy is laid,—
Within the shadow of some deep recess,
Where none will ever see or know or guess;
Some inner chamber hushed and silent grow,
Where joyous spirits once were wont to go.
Over the world, till Faith seems dead, or sleeping.
One by one, fond dreams, bright hopes will fade;
And fairest forms be numbered with the dead.
With thine own hands oft must a grave be made,
Wherein, some cherished hope or joy is laid,—
Within the shadow of some deep recess,
Where none will ever see or know or guess;
Some inner chamber hushed and silent grow,
Where joyous spirits once were wont to go.
"And there, perhaps,r with cruel, mocking mien,
Those whom thou wouldst forget will come, I ween,
And crouch beside thy hearthstone night and day;
Nor canst thou drive the unwelcome throng away.
They'll crowd around the faithful sentinel
Who there will keep his post, guarding it well,
Else all the world may see—O God forbid!—
The gloomy phantoms in each chamber hid.
O, strive to keep thy life unstained and pure!
'Break not, O woman's heart, but still endure!'
Those whom thou wouldst forget will come, I ween,
And crouch beside thy hearthstone night and day;
Nor canst thou drive the unwelcome throng away.
They'll crowd around the faithful sentinel
Who there will keep his post, guarding it well,
Else all the world may see—O God forbid!—
The gloomy phantoms in each chamber hid.
O, strive to keep thy life unstained and pure!
'Break not, O woman's heart, but still endure!'
"Thy palace home too soon will crumble down,
Decay and ruin claim it for their own.
Then the Great King, with kind compassion filled,
Will come, its broken columns to rebuild;
To sweep the rubbish out, the dust of years,
And wash away the stains of oft-shed tears.
He'll light the chambers with a holier light,
And bring thee truer friends, with faces bright,
To drive away all doubt and darkness there;
And fill the garnished rooms with praise and prayer,
Decay and ruin claim it for their own.
Then the Great King, with kind compassion filled,
Will come, its broken columns to rebuild;
To sweep the rubbish out, the dust of years,
And wash away the stains of oft-shed tears.
He'll light the chambers with a holier light,
And bring thee truer friends, with faces bright,
To drive away all doubt and darkness there;
And fill the garnished rooms with praise and prayer,
"With joy and peace, faith, hope and charity,
With love and friendship true, with sympathy
As sweet and beautiful as earth may know,
Or God's kind hand on mortals here bestow.
Then will the windows, even, blaze and shine
With the effulgence of His light divine;
And, through the open door, his angels go
On holy ministrations to and fro,—
So changed, so wonderful will be its beauty,
When love is law, and welcome every duty.
With love and friendship true, with sympathy
As sweet and beautiful as earth may know,
Or God's kind hand on mortals here bestow.
Then will the windows, even, blaze and shine
With the effulgence of His light divine;
And, through the open door, his angels go
On holy ministrations to and fro,—
So changed, so wonderful will be its beauty,
When love is law, and welcome every duty.
"Dost think my story an enigma blind?
Canst thou, therein, no hidden meaning find?
While thou dost fill thy heart with vain conceits,
And while a selfish greed thy spirit cheats,
While earthly good, alone, you seek to gain,
Thou'lt surely gather most of bitter pain.
When thou dost bring to God a willing heart,
And all thy gloomy doubts and fears depart,
Then will the Father make thy heart a shrine
Wherein His wondrous love and grace shall shine.
Canst thou, therein, no hidden meaning find?
While thou dost fill thy heart with vain conceits,
And while a selfish greed thy spirit cheats,
While earthly good, alone, you seek to gain,
Thou'lt surely gather most of bitter pain.
When thou dost bring to God a willing heart,
And all thy gloomy doubts and fears depart,
Then will the Father make thy heart a shrine
Wherein His wondrous love and grace shall shine.