Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold By "F. Harald Williams"[i.e. F. W. O. Ward]. First Edition |
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 | I. |
| II. |
FOLLOW THY STAR. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
| VI. |
| VII. |
| VIII. |
 | Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold |  |
FOLLOW THY STAR.
It may be in the morning and it may be at the noon,
It may be with the evening late,
But surely will the Vision come if it should not come soon
To every heart that fronts its fate;
O when it draweth near or when it summons thee from far,
Be equal to the appointed time
Nor dazzled by a devious chime,
And bravely to the end of things just follow thy own star—
But not another's, though a brother's—
The very one that since thy birth
Has still been gleaming through thy dreaming
To guide thee to the harbour safe across the homeless earth.
It may be with the evening late,
But surely will the Vision come if it should not come soon
To every heart that fronts its fate;
O when it draweth near or when it summons thee from far,
105
Nor dazzled by a devious chime,
And bravely to the end of things just follow thy own star—
But not another's, though a brother's—
The very one that since thy birth
Has still been gleaming through thy dreaming
To guide thee to the harbour safe across the homeless earth.
A thousand thousand goodly orbs are burning in the sky
And each is beautiful to see,
And some have thrones and some on wings of glory seem to fly,
But there is only one for thee;
O if it smileth as to make or frowneth as to mar,
Remember it is truly thine
And for no alien lot may shine—
Be patient the allotted hours, and follow thy own star;
Yet not the fairest one or rarest
That beckons from a brighter zone,
But this that beauty gives to duty
And from eternity was meant for none but thee alone.
And each is beautiful to see,
And some have thrones and some on wings of glory seem to fly,
But there is only one for thee;
O if it smileth as to make or frowneth as to mar,
Remember it is truly thine
And for no alien lot may shine—
Be patient the allotted hours, and follow thy own star;
Yet not the fairest one or rarest
That beckons from a brighter zone,
But this that beauty gives to duty
And from eternity was meant for none but thee alone.
Thine may be but a little light a quiet course to run,
A cottage lamp that flecks the floor;
It may be lavish with its beams and blazing as a sun,
That opens into dreadful Space a door;
O should it be a glow-worm faint or comet's awful car,
Be ready for the certain call
That speaks in music once to all,
And listen not to lesser signs and follow thy own star;
But not a neighbour's, though thy labours
Have helped to kindle it and thrown
Love's blessed jewel as its fuel—
And be content and do not track a beacon save thy own.
A cottage lamp that flecks the floor;
It may be lavish with its beams and blazing as a sun,
That opens into dreadful Space a door;
O should it be a glow-worm faint or comet's awful car,
Be ready for the certain call
That speaks in music once to all,
And listen not to lesser signs and follow thy own star;
But not a neighbour's, though thy labours
Have helped to kindle it and thrown
Love's blessed jewel as its fuel—
And be content and do not track a beacon save thy own.
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New systems rise, old systems set, and other rays are dear
And in the upper ocean swim,
While fresh horizons from the womb of Time at last appear
And our great heavens shall yet grow dim;
But O there is no mortal bound, there is no prison bar
For thee, if thou wilt simply heed
No rival splendours in thy need,
And in the day and in the night just follow thy own star;
Though troubles darken to it hearken,
And tread the pathway hope has trod,
For though in deepest hell thou sleepest
Still it will guide thee home at last unto thyself and God.
And in the upper ocean swim,
While fresh horizons from the womb of Time at last appear
And our great heavens shall yet grow dim;
But O there is no mortal bound, there is no prison bar
For thee, if thou wilt simply heed
No rival splendours in thy need,
And in the day and in the night just follow thy own star;
Though troubles darken to it hearken,
And tread the pathway hope has trod,
For though in deepest hell thou sleepest
Still it will guide thee home at last unto thyself and God.
| Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold | |