 | Lyrical Poems |  |
109
TRUST IN GOD.
Oft on the various-chequered Earth,
When dulled with care or flushed with mirth,
This feeble thought will force its birth,
Tainting the heart with weariness—
Why should weak mortals toil and sweat
For goods, that vex the few who get,
Why for light baubles vainly fret,
That gleam through wastes of dreariness?
Then the old Tempter, standing nigh,
Mutters, our staggering faith to try,
Go, Sinner, curse thy God and die,
And leave this world of weariness!
When dulled with care or flushed with mirth,
This feeble thought will force its birth,
Tainting the heart with weariness—
Why should weak mortals toil and sweat
For goods, that vex the few who get,
Why for light baubles vainly fret,
That gleam through wastes of dreariness?
Then the old Tempter, standing nigh,
Mutters, our staggering faith to try,
Go, Sinner, curse thy God and die,
And leave this world of weariness!
110
Father supreme, whose sleepless might
Guides the vast planets in their flight,
Who dost alternate stated night
With light, and joy, and cheerfulness;
Who mak'st thy verdurous grass to grow
On hills, where sky-fed fountains flow,
Still bringing Summer's glorious show
From bleak-browed Winter's fearfulness!
Thou, when such peevish thoughts intrude,
Teach me to wait in mute mild mood,
Till in my soul thee seemeth good
To ope new founts of cheerfulness!
Guides the vast planets in their flight,
Who dost alternate stated night
With light, and joy, and cheerfulness;
Who mak'st thy verdurous grass to grow
On hills, where sky-fed fountains flow,
Still bringing Summer's glorious show
From bleak-browed Winter's fearfulness!
Thou, when such peevish thoughts intrude,
Teach me to wait in mute mild mood,
Till in my soul thee seemeth good
To ope new founts of cheerfulness!
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