Ballads for the Times (Now first collected,) Geraldine, A Modern Pyramid, Bartenus, A Thousand Lines, and other poems. By Martin F. Tupper. A new Edition, enlarged and revised |
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 | Ballads for the Times |  |
The Riddle read.
World of sorrow, care, and change,
Even to myself I seem,
As adown thy vale I range,
Wandering in a dream:
All things are so strange.
Even to myself I seem,
As adown thy vale I range,
Wandering in a dream:
All things are so strange.
For, the dead who died this day,
Fair and young, or great and good,
Though we mourn them, where are they?
—With those before the flood;
Equally past away!
Fair and young, or great and good,
Though we mourn them, where are they?
—With those before the flood;
Equally past away!
194
Living hearts have scantly time
To feel some other heart most dear,
Scarce can love the love sublime
Unselfishly sincere,—
Death nips it in its prime!
To feel some other heart most dear,
Scarce can love the love sublime
Unselfishly sincere,—
Death nips it in its prime!
Minds have hardly power to learn
How much there is to know aright,
Can dimly through the mist discern
Some little glimpse of light,—
The order is, Return!
How much there is to know aright,
Can dimly through the mist discern
Some little glimpse of light,—
The order is, Return!
Willing hands but just begin
Wisely to work for God and man,
And some poor wages barely win
As one who well began,—
The Master calls, Come in!
Wisely to work for God and man,
And some poor wages barely win
As one who well began,—
The Master calls, Come in!
Well,—this is well: for well begun
Is all the good man here may do;
He cannot hope to see half done;
A furlong is crept through,
And lo, the goal is won!
Is all the good man here may do;
He cannot hope to see half done;
A furlong is crept through,
And lo, the goal is won!
This is the life of sight and sense,
And other brighter lives depend
On all we here can just commence;
But long before an end
God calls His servant hence.
And other brighter lives depend
On all we here can just commence;
But long before an end
God calls His servant hence.
Take courage, courage: not in vain
The Ruler hath appointed thus;
Account it neither grief nor pain
His mercy spareth us—
It is the labourer's gain.
The Ruler hath appointed thus;
Account it neither grief nor pain
His mercy spareth us—
It is the labourer's gain.
195
Here we begin to love and know;
And when God's willing grace perceives
The plant of Heav'n hath roots to grow,
He plucks the ranker leaves,
And doth transplant it so!
And when God's willing grace perceives
The plant of Heav'n hath roots to grow,
He plucks the ranker leaves,
And doth transplant it so!
| Ballads for the Times | |