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 | Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood |  |
251
ASPIRATIONS.
I waste no more in idle dreams my life, my soul away;
I wake to know my better self—I wake to watch and pray.
Thought, feeling, time, on idols vain I've lavish'd all too long:
Henceforth to holier purposes I pledge myself, my song!
I wake to know my better self—I wake to watch and pray.
Thought, feeling, time, on idols vain I've lavish'd all too long:
Henceforth to holier purposes I pledge myself, my song!
Oh! still within the inner veil, upon the spirit's shrine,
Still unprofaned by evil, burns the one pure spark divine
Which God has kindled in us all, and be it mine to tend
Henceforth, with vestal thought and care, the light that lamp may lend.
Still unprofaned by evil, burns the one pure spark divine
Which God has kindled in us all, and be it mine to tend
Henceforth, with vestal thought and care, the light that lamp may lend.
I shut mine eyes in grief and shame upon the dreary past,
My heart, my soul pour'd recklessly on dreams that could not last.
My bark has drifted down the stream, at will of wind or wave,
An idle, light, and fragile thing that few had cared to save.
My heart, my soul pour'd recklessly on dreams that could not last.
My bark has drifted down the stream, at will of wind or wave,
An idle, light, and fragile thing that few had cared to save.
252
Henceforth the tiller Truth shall hold, and steer as Conscience tells;
And I will brave the storms of Fate, though wild the ocean swells.
I know my soul is strong and high, if once I give it sway;
I feel a glorious power within, though light I seem and gay.
And I will brave the storms of Fate, though wild the ocean swells.
I know my soul is strong and high, if once I give it sway;
I feel a glorious power within, though light I seem and gay.
Oh! laggard soul! unclose thine eyes. No more in luxury soft
Of joy ideal waste thyself! Awake, and soar aloft!
Unfurl this hour thy mental wings which thou dost fold too long;
Raise to the skies thy lightning gaze, and sing thy loftiest song.
Of joy ideal waste thyself! Awake, and soar aloft!
Unfurl this hour thy mental wings which thou dost fold too long;
Raise to the skies thy lightning gaze, and sing thy loftiest song.
| Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood | |