 | [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
158
BEST, TO THE BEST.
The wind blows where it listeth,
Out of the east and west,
And the sinner's way is as dark as death,
And life is best, to the best.
Out of the east and west,
And the sinner's way is as dark as death,
And life is best, to the best.
The touch of evil corrupteth;
Tarry not on its track;
The grass where the serpent crawls is stirred
As if it grew on his back.
Tarry not on its track;
The grass where the serpent crawls is stirred
As if it grew on his back.
To know the beauty of cleanness
The heart must be clean and sweet;
We must love our neighbor to get his his love,—
As we measure, he will mete.
The heart must be clean and sweet;
We must love our neighbor to get his his love,—
As we measure, he will mete.
Cold black crusts to the beggar,
A cloak of rags and woe;
And the furrows are warm to the sower's feet,
And his bread is white as snow.
A cloak of rags and woe;
And the furrows are warm to the sower's feet,
And his bread is white as snow.
Can blind eyes see the even,
As he hangs on th' days' soft close,
Like a lusty boy on his mother's neck,
Bright in the face as a rose?
As he hangs on th' days' soft close,
Like a lusty boy on his mother's neck,
Bright in the face as a rose?
The grave is cold and cruel,—
Rest, pregnant with unrest;
And woman must moan and man must groan;
But life is best, to the best.
Rest, pregnant with unrest;
And woman must moan and man must groan;
But life is best, to the best.
| [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |