 | Poems of home and country |  |
PASSING ON, PASSING UP.
Passing on, passing up, to the platform of life,
Its honors, its trials, its glory, its strife;
Passing on, passing up, as day follows on day,—
Passing on, passing up, and then, passing away.
Its honors, its trials, its glory, its strife;
Passing on, passing up, as day follows on day,—
Passing on, passing up, and then, passing away.
The honored, the cherished, the good, have passed on,
Like morning stars, lost in the glow of the sun,—
The seal on their virtues, in safety their fame,
No stain on their record, no blot on their name.
Like morning stars, lost in the glow of the sun,—
The seal on their virtues, in safety their fame,
No stain on their record, no blot on their name.
252
The silver-tongued prophet sleeps silent, aside;
The statesman lies low in his manhood's young pride;
Our comrades in toil have passed on before,—
Passing on, passing up, to the heavenly shore.
The statesman lies low in his manhood's young pride;
Our comrades in toil have passed on before,—
Passing on, passing up, to the heavenly shore.
Still the flag of distress, in our sight, is unfurled;
Still waits for the sickle, the field of the world;
Still high on the tower where the herald has been,
Is emblazoned the call, “Wanted, Christians, and men!”
Still waits for the sickle, the field of the world;
Still high on the tower where the herald has been,
Is emblazoned the call, “Wanted, Christians, and men!”
O men for the times! with heart and with hands,
Go, toil where the Master your labor demands;
And, faithful, toil on, till the close of the day,—
Passing onward and upward, and passing away.
Go, toil where the Master your labor demands;
And, faithful, toil on, till the close of the day,—
Passing onward and upward, and passing away.
May, 1868.
| Poems of home and country | |