 | Poems |  |
124
WE WAIT.
We all are waiting, and have ever been.
Upon the steady rock of changeless fate
We sit, and see the foaming waves come in,
And long some treasure of the sea to greet,
Some golden waif, to glitter at our feet;
We murmur that our ships are over-late,
And still we wait.
Upon the steady rock of changeless fate
We sit, and see the foaming waves come in,
And long some treasure of the sea to greet,
Some golden waif, to glitter at our feet;
We murmur that our ships are over-late,
And still we wait.
We trace that fragrant path of childhood's days,
We press our way to manhood's iron gate;
And glorious pictures meet our yearning gaze,
And castles rise, with lofty, gilded dome,
And lure us from the homely halls of home;
But, nearer viewed, they grow less bright and great,
And still we wait.
We press our way to manhood's iron gate;
And glorious pictures meet our yearning gaze,
And castles rise, with lofty, gilded dome,
And lure us from the homely halls of home;
But, nearer viewed, they grow less bright and great,
And still we wait.
We seize the joyous bloom of manhood's prime,
We proudly stand within the halls of state;
And gazing higher, steadily we climb,
And pander to the lust of place and power,
And glory in the triumph of an hour;
We see ahead another sparkling bait,
And still we wait.
We proudly stand within the halls of state;
And gazing higher, steadily we climb,
And pander to the lust of place and power,
And glory in the triumph of an hour;
We see ahead another sparkling bait,
And still we wait.
125
Or, haplessly, we tread life's path awry,
And gaze from out the prison's guarded grate;
And fiercely glare we at the boundless sky,
And o'er the fields where Freedom joyous roves;
And, pining, view the valleys, hills, and groves;
And the sick heart beats high with useless hate,
And still we wait.
And gaze from out the prison's guarded grate;
And fiercely glare we at the boundless sky,
And o'er the fields where Freedom joyous roves;
And, pining, view the valleys, hills, and groves;
And the sick heart beats high with useless hate,
And still we wait.
Or if upon the field of war we stand,
And sword with sword for mastery we mate,
Grim Death, and radiant Glory, hand in hand,
Approaching us with silent step we see;
And one of them, we vow, for us must be;
Bravely we strive to win renown's estate,
And still we wait.
And sword with sword for mastery we mate,
Grim Death, and radiant Glory, hand in hand,
Approaching us with silent step we see;
And one of them, we vow, for us must be;
Bravely we strive to win renown's estate,
And still we wait.
And when we grope within the gloom of age,
When our few steps grow feeble and sedate,
We cast our eyes back o'er a blotted page;
We peer among the pictures of the past,
We gaze upon the future, overcast;
Our musings all with hopes and fears we freight;
And still we wait.
When our few steps grow feeble and sedate,
We cast our eyes back o'er a blotted page;
We peer among the pictures of the past,
We gaze upon the future, overcast;
Our musings all with hopes and fears we freight;
And still we wait.
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