 | Scenes from Scripture with Other Poems |  |
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THE WORLD.
“The Earth mourneth and fadeth away, the World languisheth and fadeth away. The haughty people of the Earth do languish.
“The Earth also is defiled under the inhabitants thereof; because they
have transgressed the laws, changed the ordinance, broken the everlasting
covenant.”—
Isaiah xxiv, 4.
“But, though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.
“For, our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.
“While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”—2 Corinthians iv, 16.
What is the world? A morn, a noon, an eve:
A scene of lips that smile, and hearts that heave:
A pageant thing of parent, child, and bride,
All, atoms floating down Time's restless tide.
Life, but the loss of all we called our own,
Like doves, searce nestled to the heart—and flown!
A Couch, where tears must mingle with our sleep,
Till the last slumber—when we cease to weep.
A phantom—peopled Stage, where all decays,
Even while the soul is quivering with the gaze.
Ashes with glory, splendour mixed with gloom,
Rapture with woe, the bridal with the tomb;
The regal mantle with the funeral pall,
Change, the great Despot, ruling over all!
A scene of lips that smile, and hearts that heave:
A pageant thing of parent, child, and bride,
All, atoms floating down Time's restless tide.
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Like doves, searce nestled to the heart—and flown!
A Couch, where tears must mingle with our sleep,
Till the last slumber—when we cease to weep.
A phantom—peopled Stage, where all decays,
Even while the soul is quivering with the gaze.
Ashes with glory, splendour mixed with gloom,
Rapture with woe, the bridal with the tomb;
The regal mantle with the funeral pall,
Change, the great Despot, ruling over all!
And is this all the wisdom man can give?
Know, Sceptic, here we but begin to live;
Our trials, but the discipline of soul,
The virtue of Immortals—Self-Controul!
Our sorrows, but the seed of glory sown:
The mercy Heaven's; the errors all our own!
Lord of the heart! howe'er my race be run,
So let it finish, that “Thy will be done.”
Know, Sceptic, here we but begin to live;
Our trials, but the discipline of soul,
The virtue of Immortals—Self-Controul!
Our sorrows, but the seed of glory sown:
The mercy Heaven's; the errors all our own!
Lord of the heart! howe'er my race be run,
So let it finish, that “Thy will be done.”
| Scenes from Scripture with Other Poems | |