 | Vigil and vision |  |
SURSUM CORDA.
1. SHAKSPEARE.
IN this our paltry day of dull pretence,When no mere wage for noble work well done
Save by the Fates' sheer favour may be won
And he who serves the highest those, when hence
He's gone, who without favour or offence
Shall come and judge, must wait and else for none
To do him justice look beneath the sun,—
'Tis Shakspeare's self must give us confidence,
In that grim drama of the soul's despair,
Where Timon damns the inhuman human crew,
The Sursum Corda, from this modern hell
Our hearts that lifts into the upper air,
Who speaks,—“There is no time so miserable
“But that a man may yet in it be true.”
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2. RABELAIS.
UP hearts! Refit and sail again the seas!The soft mysterious pipe of birds at dawn,
The opening of the crocus on the lawn,
The April wind among the blossomed trees,
The cowslips gathering on the grass-grown leas,
These all, no less than Winter's woes bygone,
Witness to us how Life from Death is drawn
And how continuance Nature seeks, not ease.
He most in tune with her is, who, when wrecked
His hopes are, wastes no time in vain lament,
But of the wreckage builds the raft Content,
Wherewith to ride out the surge perilous
Of Life, and Pantagruel-like, confect
Is in contempt of things fortuitous.
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