The Body To The Soul

RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED TO AN OVERWORKED STUDENT.


    O tyrant soul of mine,
            What's the use
Of this never-ceasing toil,
Of this struggle, this turmoil,
            This abuse
Of the body and the brain,
Of this labor and this pain,
Of this never-ceasing strain
On the cords that bind us twain
            Each to each?

    O tyrant soul of mine,
            Is it well
Thus to waste and wear away
The poor, fragile walls of clay
            Where you dwell?
Was I made your slave to be -
I the abject, you the free,
That you task me ceaselessly? -
Tyrant soul, come, answer me,
            Is it well?

    O tyrant soul of mine,
            Don't you know
That in slow, but sure decay,
I am wasting day by day,
            While you grow
None the better for the strain
On my nerves and on my brain,
For my head's incessant pain,
And my sick heart's longings vain
            For repose?

    O tyrant soul of mine,
            God, the good,
Joined together you and me
In a wondrous unity,
            That we should
Work together,-not that I,
You degrade and stupefy,
Nor that you His laws defy
By maltreating ceaselessly
            Hapless me!

    O tyrant soul of mine,
            By and by,
Weary of your cruel reign,
Quite worn out with toil and pain,
            I shall die
Then, when I have passed away,
And you're asked whose hand did slay
Your companion of the clay,
Much I wonder what you'll say,
            Soul of mine!

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

Pamela S. Vining, also known by her pseudonym J. C. Yule, was an English poet whose work was recognized in the 19th century. Despite her significant contribution to English poetry, detailed information about her life, including her birth and death dates, remains elusive. She remains a noteworthy figure in the canon of English literature for her emotive and thought-provoking poetry.

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule)

The One Refuge.

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule), Simple Poetry

My Brother James And I

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule), Simple Poetry

The Tide.

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule), Simple Poetry

Sanzas

Pamela S. Vining (J. C. Yule), Simple Poetry

English

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Stand still, my soul, in the silent dark
I would question thee,
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With God and me!

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Brother of all, with generous hand,
Of thee, pondering on thee, as o'er thy tomb, I and my Soul,
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What may we chant, O thou within this tomb?
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Lo, Soul, the graves of heroes!
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The kings, inventors, generals, poets, (stretch wide thy vision, Soul,)
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Enough of thought, philosopher!
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Space-sweeping soul, what sad refrain
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"Oh, for the time when I shall sleep
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"So said I, and still say the same;
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A Dialogue Of Self And Soul

(My Soul) I summon to the winding ancient stair;
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Upon the broken, crumbling battlement,
Upon the breathless starlit air,
"Upon the star that marks the hidden pole;
Fix every wandering thought upon
That quarter where all thought is done:
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(My Self). The consecretes blade upon my knees
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Unspotted by the centuries;
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Self-Interogation.

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"Time stands before the door of Death,
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And Conscience, with exhaustless breath,
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