The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince Edited by R. A. Douglas Lithgow |
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| III. | No. III.
“THERE IS BEAUTY ON EARTH.” |
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 | The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince |  |
167
No. III. “THERE IS BEAUTY ON EARTH.”
There is beauty on earth, wheresoever our eyes
May rest on the wonders that tell of a God;
For glory and grandeur look down from the skies,
And loveliness breathes from the streamlet and sod;
But, alas for the poor! they are grievously blind
To the charms which have lived since creation begun;
For sorrow and ignorance brood o'er the mind,
As the shadows of winter brood over the sun.
May rest on the wonders that tell of a God;
For glory and grandeur look down from the skies,
And loveliness breathes from the streamlet and sod;
But, alas for the poor! they are grievously blind
To the charms which have lived since creation begun;
For sorrow and ignorance brood o'er the mind,
As the shadows of winter brood over the sun.
There is plenty on earth; for the soil that we tread,
In reward of our labour, is sterile no more;
The broad lands are laden with fruitage and bread,
That all may sit down and partake of the store;
But, alas for the poor! they may plant, they may sow,
They may gather the grain, and the tillage renew,
But the blessings which God hath seen good to bestow,
Are torn from the millions to pamper the few.
In reward of our labour, is sterile no more;
The broad lands are laden with fruitage and bread,
That all may sit down and partake of the store;
But, alas for the poor! they may plant, they may sow,
They may gather the grain, and the tillage renew,
But the blessings which God hath seen good to bestow,
Are torn from the millions to pamper the few.
There is freedom on earth; for a thousand glad wings
In ecstasy sweep o'er the mountains and plains;
The light from its fountain spontaneously springs,—
The winds have no fetters, the waters no chains;
But, alas for the poor! they are shackled through life,
They are bondsmen in word, and in action the same;
They are wed to the curse of toil, famine, and strife,
And a hope for the future is all they can claim.
In ecstasy sweep o'er the mountains and plains;
The light from its fountain spontaneously springs,—
The winds have no fetters, the waters no chains;
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They are bondsmen in word, and in action the same;
They are wed to the curse of toil, famine, and strife,
And a hope for the future is all they can claim.
A voice speaks within me I cannot control,
Which tells of a time when these ills shall depart:
When knowledge shall win its bright way to the soul,
And beauty, like music, shall soften the heart;
When plenty shall wait on the labours of all,
And pleasure, with purity, sweeten each hour;
When freedom shall spurn degradation and thrall,
And man rise exulting in virtue and power!
Which tells of a time when these ills shall depart:
When knowledge shall win its bright way to the soul,
And beauty, like music, shall soften the heart;
When plenty shall wait on the labours of all,
And pleasure, with purity, sweeten each hour;
When freedom shall spurn degradation and thrall,
And man rise exulting in virtue and power!
| The Poetical Works of John Critchley Prince | |