 | From Sunset Ridge |  |
106
“SERVANT TO A WOODEN CRADLE”
Come, visit the flowers, thy cousins,
God's dear little lamb, and mine!
See where, lit by one flaming crystal,
The gems of the greenhouse shine!
The leaves of this rose thou shalt scatter
With the strength of thine infant will:
Thou hast ravished the form of the flower,
See! the heart keeps its sweetness still.
God's dear little lamb, and mine!
See where, lit by one flaming crystal,
The gems of the greenhouse shine!
The leaves of this rose thou shalt scatter
With the strength of thine infant will:
Thou hast ravished the form of the flower,
See! the heart keeps its sweetness still.
The flowers have a dark, sad mother,
Whose bosom is bare to view;
So they haste, in their springtide beauty,
To clothe her worn heart anew.
They perish; but she endureth,
To faint in the Winter's scorn,
With a life-warmth buried within her
Through which other Springs are born.
Whose bosom is bare to view;
So they haste, in their springtide beauty,
To clothe her worn heart anew.
They perish; but she endureth,
To faint in the Winter's scorn,
With a life-warmth buried within her
Through which other Springs are born.
As the shadows dance hither and thither,
The gleams of thy consciousness pass,
As a lamp wakes its fitful glimmer
In the heart of a sleeping glass.
The shrouded ghost of the future
Stands near, while I hold thee fast;
And the traits of my race turn slowly
My thoughts to the long-linked past.
The gleams of thy consciousness pass,
As a lamp wakes its fitful glimmer
In the heart of a sleeping glass.
107
Stands near, while I hold thee fast;
And the traits of my race turn slowly
My thoughts to the long-linked past.
O Future! what sorrows gather
In the folds of thy hanging veil?
O Past, shalt thou flower further
In passions comprest and pale?
O thou who art past and future,
Thou Present of life and soul!
We lift our sad eyes to thy features,
Our thoughts to thy great control.
In the folds of thy hanging veil?
O Past, shalt thou flower further
In passions comprest and pale?
O thou who art past and future,
Thou Present of life and soul!
We lift our sad eyes to thy features,
Our thoughts to thy great control.
Thy manhood lies crouching within thee,
For the leap of its coming years;
Thy heart takes its long vibration
From the mother's fountain of tears;
The helpful things and the hurtful
Weave round thee their waiting spell:
Oh! look to the God that commands them,
And all shall be suffered well.
For the leap of its coming years;
Thy heart takes its long vibration
From the mother's fountain of tears;
The helpful things and the hurtful
Weave round thee their waiting spell:
Oh! look to the God that commands them,
And all shall be suffered well.
| From Sunset Ridge | |