 | English Roses |  |
JACOB'S LADDER.
Lo, weary once of toilingAnd weary once of rest,
And finding roseleaves soiling
In love's sublimer quest,
As each day I grew sadder
And hopeless of my kind
I passed up Jacob's Ladder
And left the world behind.
But how, O do not question;
The angels sealed my lips
(For fear of this suggestion)
With soft and sweet eclipse.
The prophet and the poet,
The maiden and the child
As yet unfallen know it,
And all the undefiled.
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Where one are flower and seed,
And where in life immortal
Unite the will and deed.
The birds with satin pinions
Drenched in the dazzling sun,
Have soared to those dominions
And in their circuits run.
And babies, with their moulding
Fresh from the Maker's hand,
Like heavenly blooms unfolding
Come from the Golden Land.
| English Roses | |