Stephen Pearl Andrews
Great light of Liberty,
And hast thou left us by thy flick’ring out
To wander rayless, darkling, like lost stars
Amid this world of fool-ruled, fear-forced slaves?
Nay, rather have thy truth-bright rays, afar
Scattering spark-like from thy fall, ignit
Ten thousand flameless torches. These, flameless now
No more, but lurid, flashing, floating out,
Shall with a sudden force dispread their heat,
Kindling myriad watch-fires blazing high,
All to illume this death-dark orb of fear,
That needs but cloud-dispelling light and fire
To make it warm as heaven.
Great husbandman and host
Of universal truth! We who are heirs
Of those vast barns, high ricks, wide cribs, deep bins,
That held preserved from waste thy garnered store
Drawn from the world-wide acres of thy tilth,
Shall find in them our wealth to purchase way
To truth of trial and problems world-core deep;
From such sound grain the crushing mills of thought,
And over heat of human passion force,
Shall ceaseless grind and bake the bread of life,
Feeding the coming man.
J. Wm. Lloyd, in Truth Seeker.
J. Wm. Lloyd, “Stephen Pearl Andrews,” Fair Play 1 no. 30 (January 5, 1889): 1.
A proud thing this, that these mine ears have heard—
A friend of mine, a simple childlike man,
Hath been elected from us all, by ban,
To speak by gags the never silent word,
To write with shattered pen a truth to gird
Up freemen’s loins till swiftly they have ran
And told the Earth and Tyranny turns wan
At quick white fire, in fettered hearts upstirred.
A proud thing this, indeed, O friend of mine,
That blows, barren of force to beat thee back,
Should drive thee on a million miles upon
Thy destined course. Because thou art supine.
These fools forget that now themselves, alack?
Uphold thy bannered legend to the sun.
J. William Lloyd, “Moses Harman,” Liberty 7, no. 2 (April 24, 1890): 1.
Written at Walt Whitman’s Grave.
In the sweet stillness of the winter morn,
Beneath the wan limbed beech,
Before thy tomb, I stood, O Walt—
Tomb of a Christ.
And all the world and sky, like thee, were gray;
And all the earth and trees were white with silent snow:
Heart of the universe! beneath thy granite stone, sleep well!
Peace, Walt, forever peace! So long!
THIRD AVATAR OF WOMAN.
O beautiful Mould of Man, thrice born, made free,
First flesh, soul next, and third, and now, a mind,
Full-bloom of sense and heart with thought refined—
‘Tis thine, now, with thy brother equally
To join, or fairly fight for victory;
Jealous of heart and sex and brain thine own
To stand in gracious dignity, alone,
And lack no whit of human majesty
Which consciousness of Self fulfilled can give
To one who life untrammeled wills to live.
Defeat forever falls upon mistake,
Life has but one great lesson learned at length,
The weak who yield are worse than strong, who take.
Strength is the all of virtue, and to know is strength.
J. William Lloyd, “Third Avatar of Woman,” Our New Humanity 1, no. 1 (September 1895): 64.
A Grandeur & A Dreaming.
Human Life seems but a seeming,
A phantasm & a dreaming,
Of a grandeur & a gleaming
That no one life may possess.
‘Tis a downward, dark ward groping,
Upward soaring, high and hoping
Search for pathways, easy-sloping,
That no human feet yet press.
Yet it may be that the glory,
Dreamed of now since ages hoary,
Kindling still in song and story,
Each man somewhat, all men know.
All the downward, dark ward groping,
All the sky-ward, sunward hoping,
Finds at last the roadway sloping,
Where all feet together go.
J Wm. Lloyd.
J. William Lloyd, “A Grandeur and a Dreaming,” The Whim 2, no. 2 (September 1901): 110.
An Ocean Prayer.
I pray to the Ocean, salt and grand,
To send me a woman to mate my mind,
To be my sea as I her land,
A world together with heaven to bind.
An ocean-woman of kindred thought,
With brain-waves beating with mine in rhyme,
And a Gulf-Stream heart of love, full-fraught,
Glowing to warm my mental clime.
Bathing my coasts in a beautiful sea,
Cleansing, caressing, cheering me on,
With deep proud tides of sympathy
For the work I do, that I have done.
A woman indeed, whose sea-like soul
Flows ’round the world in a wide embrace,
With great-heart billows that break and roll
On every shore of the human race.
Whose generous stream holds every keel,
And mirrors the glory of every sky,
Whose depths go down to think and feel
As deep as my peaks rise heavenward high.
O beautiful Ocean, salt and strong,
Mother and lover of every shore,
Send me this woman for whom I long,
That my lonely brain may thirst no more.
J. William Lloyd.
J. William Lloyd, “An Ocean Prayer,” Free Society 10, no. 23 (June 7, 1903): 1.