Few, in the days of early youth,
Trusted like me in love and truth.
I ’ve learned sad lessons from the years;
But slowly, and with many tears;
For God made me to kindly view
The world that I was passing through.
How little did I once believe
That friendly tones could e’er deceive!
That kindness, and forbearance long,
...
The night that has no star lit up by God,
The day that round men shines who still are blind,
The earth their grave-turned feet for ages trod,
And sea swept over by His mighty wind,
All these have passed away, the melting dream
That flitted o’er the sleeper’s half-shut eye,
When touched by morning’s golden-darting beam;
And he beholds...
Science long watched the realms of space,
A planet’s devious path to trace:
Convinced of heaven’s harmonious law,
“A World beyond” Leverrier saw.
Thus when he views earth’s sins and woes,
With a like faith the Christian knows
There is a world beyond, to prove
God’s perfect wisdom, power, and love.
It lies around us like a cloud,
The world we do not see;
Yet the sweet closing of an eye
May bring us there to be.
Its gentle breezes fan our cheeks
Amid our worldly cares;
Its gentle voices whisper love,
And mingle with our prayers.
Sweet hearts around us throb and beat,
Sweet helping hands are stirred,...
That year? Yes, doubtless I remember still,—
Though why take count of every wind that blows!
’T was plain, men said, that Fortune used me ill
That year,—the self-same year I met with Rose.
Crops failed; wealth took a flight; house, treasure, land,
Slipped from my hold—thus plenty comes and goes.
One friend I had, but he too loosed his...
Jubilant the music through the fields a-ringing,—
Carol, warble, whistle, pipe,—endless ways of singing,
Oriole, bobolink, melody of thrushes,
Rustling trees, hum of bees, sudden little hushes,
Broken suddenly again—
Carol, whistle, rustle, humming,
In reiterate refrain,
Thither, hither, going, coming,
While...
my prow is tending toward the west,
Old voices growing faint, dear faces dim,
And all that I have loved the best
Far back upon the waste of memory swim.
My old world disappears:
Few hopes and many fears
Accompany me.
But from the distance fair
A sound of birds, a glimpse of pleasant skies,
A scent of...
Memory cannot linger long,
Joy must die the death.
Hope’s like a little silver song
Fading in a breath.
So wags the weary world away
Forever and a day.
But love, that sweetest madness,
Leaps and grows in toil and sadness,
Makes unseeing eyes to see,
And heapeth wealth in penury.
So wags the good old world...
The soul of the world is abroad to-night—
Not in yon silvery amalgam of moonbeam and ocean, nor in the pink heat-lightning tremulous on the horizon;
Not in the embrace of yonder pair of lovers either, heart beating to heart in the shadow of the fishing-smack drawn up on the beach.
All that—shall I call it illusion? Nay, but at best it is a pale reflection of the truth....
Take the world as it is!—there are good and bad in it,
And good and bad will be from now to the end;
And they, who expect to make saints in a minute,
Are in danger of marring more hearts than they ’ll mend.
If ye wish to be happy ne’er seek for the faults,
Or you ’re sure to find some thing or other amiss;
’Mid much that debases, and much...
