 | Three hours ; or, the vigil of love : and other poems |  |
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THE HEART'S FOUNT OF STRENGTH.
Oh! 't is the heart that magnifies this life
Making a truth and beauty of its own.
Wordsworth.
Making a truth and beauty of its own.
Wordsworth.
“Another year! and what to me unsealing?
Another page in Sorrow's book of life,
With the dark stamp of Fate impressed, revealing
Another struggle in the world's stern strife?
While the bright hopes that charmed my youthful vision,
Frown like a winter forest, dead and sere,
And fancies, mirage-like, that seemed Elysian,
Fade, and earth's desert sands alone appear.
Another page in Sorrow's book of life,
With the dark stamp of Fate impressed, revealing
Another struggle in the world's stern strife?
While the bright hopes that charmed my youthful vision,
Frown like a winter forest, dead and sere,
And fancies, mirage-like, that seemed Elysian,
Fade, and earth's desert sands alone appear.
“Even had I gained, as once I strove to merit,
Some high estate in honour's gilded show,
What, with my failing strength and fainting spirit,
Could fame, or power, or wealth avail me now?
The feeble reed, storm-broken, may recover,
But the firm oak, uprooted, must decay;
I'll strive no more—hopes, plans, and dreams are over,
Welcome, despair! ay, night that has no day!”
Some high estate in honour's gilded show,
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Could fame, or power, or wealth avail me now?
The feeble reed, storm-broken, may recover,
But the firm oak, uprooted, must decay;
I'll strive no more—hopes, plans, and dreams are over,
Welcome, despair! ay, night that has no day!”
“Father!” in love's sweet tone, like doves caressing,
Is heard—a white arm round his neck is twining,
A soft, warm cheek to his is fondly pressing,
A fairy form upon his breast reclining;
His daughter, image of her angel mother—
Her smile how happy as she meets his gaze!
He is her guide, guard, all—she asks no other;
As the bud brightens in the sun's mild rays,
Is heard—a white arm round his neck is twining,
A soft, warm cheek to his is fondly pressing,
A fairy form upon his breast reclining;
His daughter, image of her angel mother—
Her smile how happy as she meets his gaze!
He is her guide, guard, all—she asks no other;
As the bud brightens in the sun's mild rays,
So has his tender care her being cherished,
So has her deep'ning love his care repaid—
And now, when every earth-reared plant has perished,
This blessed human blossom does not fade!
And from the father's eyes, like warm rains rushing,
That melt the ice even on the glacier's breast,
The tears of thankful gratitude are gushing,
That he can bless her and by her be blest.
So has her deep'ning love his care repaid—
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This blessed human blossom does not fade!
And from the father's eyes, like warm rains rushing,
That melt the ice even on the glacier's breast,
The tears of thankful gratitude are gushing,
That he can bless her and by her be blest.
And now the cloud, from o'er life's path receding,
Reveals a lovely vale of calm existence,
Bright with those low, sweet flowers we crush unheeding,
When struggling toward the laurel in the distance;
He sees, in such retreat, how man may measure
Pride's high aspirings with that wisdom lowly,
Which finds in wayside springs rich draughts of pleasure,
In daily deeds of kindness beauty holy.
Reveals a lovely vale of calm existence,
Bright with those low, sweet flowers we crush unheeding,
When struggling toward the laurel in the distance;
He sees, in such retreat, how man may measure
Pride's high aspirings with that wisdom lowly,
Which finds in wayside springs rich draughts of pleasure,
In daily deeds of kindness beauty holy.
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He feels the God-breathed soul should never falter,
When pressing onward duties to fulfil;
And that when truth and virtue rear the altar,
How the high purpose can sustain the will;
That to this sacrifice of self is given
An energy all human ills above,
Thus witnessing, as by a voice from Heaven,
The heart's pure fount of strength is generous love.
When pressing onward duties to fulfil;
And that when truth and virtue rear the altar,
How the high purpose can sustain the will;
That to this sacrifice of self is given
An energy all human ills above,
Thus witnessing, as by a voice from Heaven,
The heart's pure fount of strength is generous love.
| Three hours ; or, the vigil of love : and other poems | |