 | [The mystery of life, in] Address delivered before the Alumni of Brown University, Tuesday, June 15, 1880, by Hon. Edward L. Pierce |  |
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POEM.
THE MYSTERY OF LIFE.
O mystery of human life!
O wondrous end of man!
O theme with curious questions rife,
With God's divinest plan,—
Plan, which no human mind can reach,
No human tongue can tell;
Too deep for angel's thought or speech,
Boundless, ineffable!
O wondrous end of man!
O theme with curious questions rife,
With God's divinest plan,—
Plan, which no human mind can reach,
No human tongue can tell;
Too deep for angel's thought or speech,
Boundless, ineffable!
How doth the acorn, germinant,
Become the mighty tree;
How grows the infant spark of thought
Broader than land and sea!
The mighty oak its crumbling boughs
Back to earth's bosom gives;
But ages come, and ages pass,—
Mind, still expanding, lives.
Become the mighty tree;
How grows the infant spark of thought
Broader than land and sea!
The mighty oak its crumbling boughs
Back to earth's bosom gives;
But ages come, and ages pass,—
Mind, still expanding, lives.
How man, with ever-longing soul,
Some fancied goal desires—
Like toiling miners, sinking shafts
Deep towards earth's central fires—
But leaves, unsought, life's highest good,
As bats ignore the sun—
And, grasping for the weak, the mean,
Misses the grand, the one.
Some fancied goal desires—
Like toiling miners, sinking shafts
Deep towards earth's central fires—
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As bats ignore the sun—
And, grasping for the weak, the mean,
Misses the grand, the one.
Life scorns to yield its noblest fruit
To men of aimless ease;
No coral reef springs up, uncaused,
Above the deep, blue seas;
Work with thy might, O mortal man,
With worthy ends in view;
With soul and nerve, with heart and brain.
To God's high model true.
To men of aimless ease;
No coral reef springs up, uncaused,
Above the deep, blue seas;
Work with thy might, O mortal man,
With worthy ends in view;
With soul and nerve, with heart and brain.
To God's high model true.
All wealth of faithful work is born.
All greatness won by toil,
E'en as the farmer's golden corn
Springs from the deep-worked soil;
Spoil not thy soul with nerveless aim,
With idle, weak desire;
Strive nobly for a noble name—
To all high deeds aspire.
All greatness won by toil,
E'en as the farmer's golden corn
Springs from the deep-worked soil;
Spoil not thy soul with nerveless aim,
With idle, weak desire;
Strive nobly for a noble name—
To all high deeds aspire.
As from the crucible the gold,
Tried by the fierce flame, flows—
As from the sculptor's dust and grime
The chiselled wonder grows—
So from earth's friction, toil and grief,
Bring beauty, love and truth,—
Garments of praise for ripened days,
The light and crown of youth.
Tried by the fierce flame, flows—
As from the sculptor's dust and grime
The chiselled wonder grows—
So from earth's friction, toil and grief,
Bring beauty, love and truth,—
Garments of praise for ripened days,
The light and crown of youth.
On wealth intent, in wild pursuit,
O'er distant climes and isles,
The merchant drives, with eager haste,
And heap on heap he piles;
Like sand-hills on the wave-washed shore,
Like clouds of drifting spray,
Like mole-hills in the ploughman's path,
His treasures melt away.
O'er distant climes and isles,
The merchant drives, with eager haste,
And heap on heap he piles;
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Like clouds of drifting spray,
Like mole-hills in the ploughman's path,
His treasures melt away.
Ambition mounts his fiery steeds,
Plumed, o'er new heights to soar;
And waves aloft his potent wand,
O'er subject sea and shore;
Nurse thy fair bubble, man of pride—
Thyself, thy mighty care;
Reach forth for other worlds to rule;
And grasp—but empty air.
Plumed, o'er new heights to soar;
And waves aloft his potent wand,
O'er subject sea and shore;
Nurse thy fair bubble, man of pride—
Thyself, thy mighty care;
Reach forth for other worlds to rule;
And grasp—but empty air.
The athlete struggles in the race,
The expected crown—his life—
Muscle and bone, and wrenching nerve
Tense with the mighty strife;
O bootless task, such wreath to win,
Triumph, alas, how brief!
His valor, nought but force of limb,
His crown—a fading leaf!
The expected crown—his life—
Muscle and bone, and wrenching nerve
Tense with the mighty strife;
O bootless task, such wreath to win,
Triumph, alas, how brief!
His valor, nought but force of limb,
His crown—a fading leaf!
Proud of the flag that o'er him waves,
Of deeds his bravery wrought,
Of rights secured, of wrongs redrest,
Of battles grandly fought—
The warrior, with his sword unsheathed,
Cries “Victory! or death!”
How soon his vaunted glory pales—
Brief as a passing breath.
Of deeds his bravery wrought,
Of rights secured, of wrongs redrest,
Of battles grandly fought—
The warrior, with his sword unsheathed,
Cries “Victory! or death!”
How soon his vaunted glory pales—
Brief as a passing breath.
Scorched on the line, chilled at the pole,
Tossed on the billowy foam,
Ambition lures the explorer on,
With tireless zeal to roam;
Perchance he finds nor sea nor land,
But faith still onward leads—
The fame, the wealth, the rest he seeks,
False to his hope, recedes.
Tossed on the billowy foam,
Ambition lures the explorer on,
With tireless zeal to roam;
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But faith still onward leads—
The fame, the wealth, the rest he seeks,
False to his hope, recedes.
The gold that gilds the sunset cloud
Fades with the parting day;
The silver shimmer on the sea
At nightfall melts away;
And vain man's mortal hopes and aims,
So bright, but soon so dim,
Die, like the flashing lightning's gleams,
Above the horizon's rim.
Fades with the parting day;
The silver shimmer on the sea
At nightfall melts away;
And vain man's mortal hopes and aims,
So bright, but soon so dim,
Die, like the flashing lightning's gleams,
Above the horizon's rim.
New heights, new depths, of wealth unknown,
Wait the behest of thought;
As mines in countries unexplored,
Wait to be found and wrought;
The high, the grand, the true, the good,
These are man's fitting goal,—
God's jewels,—ore of priceless worth—
The ingots of the soul.
Wait the behest of thought;
As mines in countries unexplored,
Wait to be found and wrought;
The high, the grand, the true, the good,
These are man's fitting goal,—
God's jewels,—ore of priceless worth—
The ingots of the soul.
Then winnow grains of truth and love
From this world's useless straw;
Who rules his life, he rules the end—
'Tis nature's changeless law;
O blest the man, supremely blest,
Whose life sublimely flows;
For God's approving sentence sheds
A halo o'er its close.
From this world's useless straw;
Who rules his life, he rules the end—
'Tis nature's changeless law;
O blest the man, supremely blest,
Whose life sublimely flows;
For God's approving sentence sheds
A halo o'er its close.
O man, in God's own image made—
Born of God's highest thought,
O man, for nobler aims designed,
For nobler purpose wrought,—
Build not on time's illusive sands
The pillar of thy fame;
But high, on monuments unseen,
Carve an immortal name.
Born of God's highest thought,
O man, for nobler aims designed,
For nobler purpose wrought,—
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The pillar of thy fame;
But high, on monuments unseen,
Carve an immortal name.
What harvest fields of joy and hope
Whiten the world's broad face;
A sickle waits each willing hand,
Each heart, God's helping grace;
No seed is lost,—no precious grain
To earth can, useless, fall:
God guards the reapers and the seed,
His love shall garner all.
Whiten the world's broad face;
A sickle waits each willing hand,
Each heart, God's helping grace;
No seed is lost,—no precious grain
To earth can, useless, fall:
God guards the reapers and the seed,
His love shall garner all.
| [The mystery of life, in] Address delivered before the Alumni of Brown University, Tuesday, June 15, 1880, by Hon. Edward L. Pierce | |