 | The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury |  |
STANZAS.
“The night cometh, when no man can work.”
Ye who in the field of human life
Quickening seeds of wisdom fain would sow,
Pause not for the angry tempest's strife,
Shrink not from the noontide's fervid glow;
Labor on, while yet the light of day
Sheds upon your path its blessèd ray,
For the night cometh!
Quickening seeds of wisdom fain would sow,
Pause not for the angry tempest's strife,
Shrink not from the noontide's fervid glow;
Labor on, while yet the light of day
Sheds upon your path its blessèd ray,
For the night cometh!
Ye who at man's mightiest engine stand,
Moulding noble thought into opinion,
O stay not for weariness your hand,
Till ye fix the bounds of truth's dominion;
Labor on, while yet the light of day
Sheds upon your toil its blessèd ray,
For the night cometh!
Moulding noble thought into opinion,
O stay not for weariness your hand,
Till ye fix the bounds of truth's dominion;
Labor on, while yet the light of day
Sheds upon your toil its blessèd ray,
For the night cometh!
Ye to whom a prophet-voice is given,
Stirring men as by a trumpet call,
Utter forth the oracles of Heaven,—
Earth gives back the echoes as they fall;
O speak out, while yet the light of day
Breaks life's slumber with its blessèd ray,
For the night cometh!
Stirring men as by a trumpet call,
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Earth gives back the echoes as they fall;
O speak out, while yet the light of day
Breaks life's slumber with its blessèd ray,
For the night cometh!
Ye who in home's narrow circle dwell,
Feeding Love's flame upon the household hearth,
Weave the silken bond, and wake the spell
Binding heart to heart throughout the earth;
Gentle toil is yours; the light of day
On nought holier sheds its blessèd ray;
Yet the night cometh!
Feeding Love's flame upon the household hearth,
Weave the silken bond, and wake the spell
Binding heart to heart throughout the earth;
Gentle toil is yours; the light of day
On nought holier sheds its blessèd ray;
Yet the night cometh!
Diverse though our paths in life may be,
Each is sent some mission to fulfill;
Fellow-workers in the world are we
While we seek to do our Master's will;
But our doom is labor while the day
Lights us to our task with blessèd ray,
For the night cometh!
Each is sent some mission to fulfill;
Fellow-workers in the world are we
While we seek to do our Master's will;
But our doom is labor while the day
Lights us to our task with blessèd ray,
For the night cometh!
Fellow-workers are we; hour by hour,
Human tools are shaping Heaven's great schemes,
Till we see no limit to man's power,
And reality outstrips old dreams:
Toil and struggle, therefore, work and weep;
In “God's acre” ye shall calmly sleep,
When the night cometh!
Human tools are shaping Heaven's great schemes,
Till we see no limit to man's power,
And reality outstrips old dreams:
Toil and struggle, therefore, work and weep;
In “God's acre” ye shall calmly sleep,
When the night cometh!
| The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury | |