Poems by Cecil Frances Alexander Edited, with a preface, by William Alexander |
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| 1 | JACOB AND PHARAOH. |
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 | Poems by Cecil Frances Alexander |  |
69
JACOB AND PHARAOH.
“Few and evil have the days of the years of my life been.”—
Gen. xlvii. 9.
How rarely boyhood loves to paint
In glowing tints his future bright,
A picture where no line is faint—
Whose very clouds are touched with light.
In glowing tints his future bright,
A picture where no line is faint—
Whose very clouds are touched with light.
And girlhood hails a world unknown
And reads it in her own glad dreams,
As lilies see themselves alone
Reflected in their azure streams.
And reads it in her own glad dreams,
As lilies see themselves alone
Reflected in their azure streams.
But rosy clouds that morning brings,
Ere noon may deepen into thunder—
And life's dark stream has sterner things
Than silver lilies growing under.
Ere noon may deepen into thunder—
And life's dark stream has sterner things
Than silver lilies growing under.
So had he found, the Patriarch old,
Who, reckoning o'er by Pharaoh's chair
His hundred years and thirty, told
How evil, and how few they were.
Who, reckoning o'er by Pharaoh's chair
His hundred years and thirty, told
How evil, and how few they were.
One lingering look he backward cast—
Those long dim years lay steeped in gloom,
And through the mist that wrapped the past
He saw but shapes of sorrow loom.
Those long dim years lay steeped in gloom,
And through the mist that wrapped the past
He saw but shapes of sorrow loom.
70
The parting of his youth was there,
The cheated love in Leah's bower,
The lingering toil, the long despair
For Joseph lost in evil hour.
The cheated love in Leah's bower,
The lingering toil, the long despair
For Joseph lost in evil hour.
And such a reckoning thine must be,
When time shall disenchant thine eyes,
Fond youth! and life's reality
Break on thee with a sad surprise.
When time shall disenchant thine eyes,
Fond youth! and life's reality
Break on thee with a sad surprise.
But not for this bright hope forego
Or scant one glowing dream of pleasure,
Though life shall never find below
A cup to hold thy brimming measure.
Or scant one glowing dream of pleasure,
Though life shall never find below
A cup to hold thy brimming measure.
For thoughts of great and glorious things
That move thy soul with inward force,
Are but thy spirit's secret springs,
Uprising to their awful source—
That move thy soul with inward force,
Are but thy spirit's secret springs,
Uprising to their awful source—
The touches of a hand divine
Still lingering on thy soiléd face—
Throbs in that deathless heart of thine
That pants for its immortal place.
Still lingering on thy soiléd face—
Throbs in that deathless heart of thine
That pants for its immortal place.
Dream on! but pitch thine hopes still higher,
Like eagles soaring to the sun;
The wildest stretch of man's desire
Can ne'er surpass what Christ has won.
Like eagles soaring to the sun;
The wildest stretch of man's desire
Can ne'er surpass what Christ has won.
71
There, where for Him down sunless skies
Eternal Hallelujahs stream—
The truth of thine ideal lies,
The substance of thy youthful dream.
Eternal Hallelujahs stream—
The truth of thine ideal lies,
The substance of thy youthful dream.
| Poems by Cecil Frances Alexander | |