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Religion
Gather around thee treasures bright,
Bid the purple nectar flow;
Will these shine with heavenly light
On thy rayless night of woe?
Bid the purple nectar flow;
Will these shine with heavenly light
On thy rayless night of woe?
Snatch the brightest wreath of fame,
Man has won from fellow worm;
It may prove a wreath of flame
Round thy brows for aye to burn.
Man has won from fellow worm;
It may prove a wreath of flame
Round thy brows for aye to burn.
Grasp the monarch's rod of power;
Seize the warrior's iron spear;
Bid death stay thy coming hour,
Think ye he those arms will fear?
Seize the warrior's iron spear;
Bid death stay thy coming hour,
Think ye he those arms will fear?
29
What are these—the laurel crown,
Or the victor's bloody sword,
Or the monarch's darkest frown,
Or the miser's glittering hoard,—
Or the victor's bloody sword,
Or the monarch's darkest frown,
Or the miser's glittering hoard,—
What are these to that dread might,
Which both king and slave obey,
Which can hurl to realms of night
Yon bright flaming orb of day?
Which both king and slave obey,
Which can hurl to realms of night
Yon bright flaming orb of day?
What are these to soul's calm rest?—
Diamond's price is paid in vain.
Monarch's might has not possess'd,
Victor's arm can never gain.
Diamond's price is paid in vain.
Monarch's might has not possess'd,
Victor's arm can never gain.
Poem No. 143; 24 August 1835
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