 | [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
MISSIVE.
Know thou this truth, which the creeds cannot smother,
Wherever man is found, there is thy brother;
God his blest sire is, earth is his mother—
Where most degraded, thy zeal most increase;
Aid him and help him, till, ceasing to falter,
He shall come up to humanity's altar,
“Bearing white blocks for the city of Peace.”
Wherever man is found, there is thy brother;
God his blest sire is, earth is his mother—
Where most degraded, thy zeal most increase;
Aid him and help him, till, ceasing to falter,
He shall come up to humanity's altar,
“Bearing white blocks for the city of Peace.”
Shrink not away from the common and lowly—
Good deeds, though never so humble, are holy;
And though the recompense fall to thee slowly,
Heroes unnumbered before thee have trod;
By the sweet light of their blessed example,
Work on—the field of love's labor is ample—
Trusting Humanity, trusting in God!
Good deeds, though never so humble, are holy;
And though the recompense fall to thee slowly,
Heroes unnumbered before thee have trod;
By the sweet light of their blessed example,
Work on—the field of love's labor is ample—
Trusting Humanity, trusting in God!
75
Fight down the Wrong, howe'er specious its bearing,
Lighten the burdens about thee by sharing,
Fear not the glorious peril of daring,
Be it the rack or the prison's dull bars;
Hands are stretched out from the graves of past ages
To brighten with holy deeds history's pages—
Martyr-fires burn as intensely as stars.
Lighten the burdens about thee by sharing,
Fear not the glorious peril of daring,
Be it the rack or the prison's dull bars;
Hands are stretched out from the graves of past ages
To brighten with holy deeds history's pages—
Martyr-fires burn as intensely as stars.
Never sit down by the wayside to sorrow—
Hope is a good angel, whence we may borrow
Beauty and gladness and light for the morrow,
However dark be the present with ill;
And the far waves of Time's sorrowful river,
Wandering and weary and moaning forever,
Break on the rock of Eternity still.
Hope is a good angel, whence we may borrow
Beauty and gladness and light for the morrow,
However dark be the present with ill;
And the far waves of Time's sorrowful river,
Wandering and weary and moaning forever,
Break on the rock of Eternity still.
| [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |