 | The Village Churchyard |  |
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THE STAR AND THE LIGHTNING.
The bright star trembles, that shall still endureA Paradise of radiance—deep and pure;
And seems to fear its glory's rich excess,
Tremulous in its everlastingness!
As hearts that doubt of their own happiness!
The bright star trembles, in its pride of place,
Yet still unswerving runs its glorious race;
And crowned with light that ages cannot dull,
Streams, unextinguishably beautiful!
The scornful lightning in its arrowy flight,
Speeds straight unto the abyss of endless night,
It flames, it flashes, and its course is run—
And never more shall kindling star nor sun,
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It flies unheeding to its perilous fall;
Untremulously hurries to its doom,
Unhesitating—leaps into its tomb!
So doth a haughty heart in its disdain
Rush madly on—defying check and rein;
So doth it urge its headlong fierce career,
Unshaken by one natural throb of fear;
Till wrecked at last on bleak Destruction's coast,
It sinks—it fails—inevitably lost!
And like that deathless and enduring star,
Holding its brightly-troubled course afar—
(For such it seems to be to mortal sight,
While ever-trembling shines its gleaming light;)
So doth the humble spirit bear on still,
And meekly its appointed part fulfil—
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Tremulous in its glorious stedfastness—
E'en like that changeless and immortal light
(Whose beams inflame the sombre, silent night)
That still pursues its bright eternal way,
Shedding around an atmosphere of day!
That presses forward to its destined goal,
The noblest Prototype of man's high soul!—
So doth the humble spirit move on still,
And meekly its appointed course fulfil;
With boundless prospects fair, and guerdons sure,
Girt to sustain—unflinchingly to endure,
Till called to enjoy, to exult, and to adore
On high—for ever and for evermore!
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