 | The Poetry of Real Life |  |
THE PURPOSE OF A LIFE.
E'en in my boyish days, ere yet a cloudOf sadness rested on my path, except
To make it brighter, when away 't was swept
By the strong breath of Hope, so gay and proud,
E'en then I've turned aside from the vain crowd,
The forms and ceremonies, which intercept
The heart's diviner beatings, and have wept
For suffering Humanity aloud!
Aye, even then I made a boyish vow,
In Nature's own grand temple kneeling down,
Who set her sign, in token, on my brow,
That I allegiance only would avow
To him, who wears upon his head the crown
Of genuine Manhood, be he king or clown!
| The Poetry of Real Life | |