 | The Poetry of Real Life |  |
43
TO MILTON.
I am but as a star that in the skyDoth lowly shine, just on the horizon's rim,
Lighting a scanty space, and that but dim;
The whereabouts of meek Humanity,
The little, household circle, which doth lie
Within reach of the least: aye, e'en of him
Whose daily life doth make his God a hymn
Divine, though heard not by the passer by!
A little nook, encompassed by the heart
And its affections, as in God's own arms!
But thou dost shine high up, and far apart,
Gilding our troubled Life's alternate calms
And storms, and as a beacon there thou art,
Beheld of all, mighty in many charms!
| The Poetry of Real Life | |