 | Lays of Leisure Hours |  |
516
THE WORLD'S TRUE VALUE.
Once how I loved this World below,
I trusted it and prized it so—
I laughed when others sighing said,
“It is a gloomy World and dread.”
I trusted it and prized it so—
I laughed when others sighing said,
“It is a gloomy World and dread.”
I laughed and I believed them not,
So glad and cloudless was my lot,
I thought within my very heart,
Sweet World! how bright how fair thou art.
So glad and cloudless was my lot,
I thought within my very heart,
Sweet World! how bright how fair thou art.
I laughed! and feared no future day,
I nothing knew of Grief's dark sway,
And Pain for me was but a word
Which all incredulous I heard.
I nothing knew of Grief's dark sway,
And Pain for me was but a word
Which all incredulous I heard.
517
How deep and dark and change soon came
O'er Soul of Light and Thought of Flame,
Then cried I loud, Grief's veriest slave,
“Oh! World!—thou'rt cruel as the Grave!”
O'er Soul of Light and Thought of Flame,
Then cried I loud, Grief's veriest slave,
“Oh! World!—thou'rt cruel as the Grave!”
I deemed none could be happy here,
I thought the smile but masked the tear,
I cried within mine inmost Heart,
“Dark World!—how sad a World thou art!”
I thought the smile but masked the tear,
I cried within mine inmost Heart,
“Dark World!—how sad a World thou art!”
Those who ne'er look this Life beyond,
Are mocked thus by illusions fond—
The truth to them may not appear
In living beauty—fair and clear.
Are mocked thus by illusions fond—
The truth to them may not appear
In living beauty—fair and clear.
Now, now, Oh! World! I know thy worth,
I praise thee not—nor blame thee, Earth,
But oft unto myself I say—
“Oh! World! thou art but dust and clay.”
I praise thee not—nor blame thee, Earth,
But oft unto myself I say—
“Oh! World! thou art but dust and clay.”
518
This Earth is not the abiding place
Of man's immortal mighty race—
It is the school where he must learn
Deep lessons ofttimes harsh and stern.
Of man's immortal mighty race—
It is the school where he must learn
Deep lessons ofttimes harsh and stern.
Now, now—the hopes of higher things
Uplift me on their viewless wings,
I walk 'mid Earth's poor vanities,
With heart estranged and loveless eyes.
Uplift me on their viewless wings,
I walk 'mid Earth's poor vanities,
With heart estranged and loveless eyes.
The treasures of my former trust
I know are ashes all and dust,
But Earth hath treasures, and I prize
Those things that feeling sanctifies.
I know are ashes all and dust,
But Earth hath treasures, and I prize
Those things that feeling sanctifies.
Oh! Love! thy treasures here can bless
With all but Angel happiness—
And did not one dark shadow fall
O'er thee, thou wert enchantment all.
With all but Angel happiness—
And did not one dark shadow fall
O'er thee, thou wert enchantment all.
519
Did that dread shadow o'er thy path
Not brood in stern unpitying wrath,
Thou wert Heav'n's own beatitude,
But Death hath still thy steps pursued.
Not brood in stern unpitying wrath,
Thou wert Heav'n's own beatitude,
But Death hath still thy steps pursued.
Oh! World!—when others sighing say,
With hopeless tone of grief to-day,
“A heavy, gloomy World is this,”—
I answer—“But it leads to bliss!”
With hopeless tone of grief to-day,
“A heavy, gloomy World is this,”—
I answer—“But it leads to bliss!”
Or if, like me in other days,
Some all too fondly lightly praise,
And cry, “It is a World of joy,”
I warn them 'twill their hopes destroy!
Some all too fondly lightly praise,
And cry, “It is a World of joy,”
I warn them 'twill their hopes destroy!
Those, those but in the Present live,
Who think that it is formed to give
True lasting pleasure to their Souls,
Soon breaks the wave that foam-lit rolls.
Who think that it is formed to give
True lasting pleasure to their Souls,
Soon breaks the wave that foam-lit rolls.
520
'Tis not a World of Joy or Grief,
But in its hurried passage brief
Both, both are ever mingled still—
A World commixed of Good and Ill!
But in its hurried passage brief
Both, both are ever mingled still—
A World commixed of Good and Ill!
The storm hath still its rainbow bright,
A myriad myriad Stars the Night!—
In the sweet South the Death wind blows—
And still the thorn lives with the rose!
A myriad myriad Stars the Night!—
In the sweet South the Death wind blows—
And still the thorn lives with the rose!
Its precious and its fearful things,
Its sweetest and its bitterest springs,
Still joined together oft are found
In strange and startling union bound—
Its sweetest and its bitterest springs,
Still joined together oft are found
In strange and startling union bound—
And he who hopes the rose to pull
Nor yet with this the thorn to cull,
Must learn a lesson soon or late,
That shall crush down his Heart elate!
Nor yet with this the thorn to cull,
Must learn a lesson soon or late,
That shall crush down his Heart elate!
521
And he who seeks the rainbow's gleam
In Skies that but with Sunshine stream,
Shall know ere long 'tis storms that bring
That beautiful and blessed thing!
In Skies that but with Sunshine stream,
Shall know ere long 'tis storms that bring
That beautiful and blessed thing!
And he who watcheth in the Day
For the rich Stars' etherial ray,
Must wait until the closing Night
Affordeth their enchanted light!
For the rich Stars' etherial ray,
Must wait until the closing Night
Affordeth their enchanted light!
And he who would expect to inhale
Thou sweet, sweet South, thine odorous gale
Without one drawback to Delight,
Perchance may perish in its blight!
Thou sweet, sweet South, thine odorous gale
Without one drawback to Delight,
Perchance may perish in its blight!
Oh! World! from out thine Ill springs Good—
Thy best may be with wrong imbued—
'Tis change and contradiction still!
But, praised be Heaven, 'tis not all Ill!
Thy best may be with wrong imbued—
'Tis change and contradiction still!
But, praised be Heaven, 'tis not all Ill!
522
For who can say—with open Heart—
“Good is my due and my desert?”—
Oh! who can say he merits aught
But Griefs that Man on Man hath brought?
“Good is my due and my desert?”—
Oh! who can say he merits aught
But Griefs that Man on Man hath brought?
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