WORSHIP. THIS is he, who, felled by foes, But him no prison-bars would hold: The truth, and hurl wrong-doers down. More near than aught thou call'st thy own, Yet, greeted in another's eyes, Disconcerts with glad surprise. THE NUN'S ASPIRATION. THE yesterday doth never smile, Though I am weak, yet God, when prayed, Ah me! it was my childhood's thought, On this altar God hath built I lay my vanity and guilt; - Nor me can Hope or Passion urge Hearing as now the lofty dirge Which blasts of Northern mountains hymn, Nature's funeral, high and dim, Sable pageantry of clouds, Mourning summer laid in shrouds. And passing, light my sunken turf Moist perhaps by ocean surf, Forgotten amid splendid tombs, Yet wreathed and hid by summer blooms. On earth I dream; I die to be: Time! shake not thy bald head at me. Think me not numbed or halt with age, pass with yonder comet free, Realm beyond realm, extent untold; No early morn, no evening late, — TERMINUS. Ir is time to be old, To take in sail : The god of bounds, Who sets to seas a shore, Came to me in his fatal rounds, And said: No more! No farther shoot Thy broad ambitious branches, and thy root, Fancy departs: no more invent, Contract thy firmament To compass of a tent. There's not enough for this and that, Make thy option which of two; Economize the failing river, Not the less revere the Giver, Leave the many and hold the few. Timely wise accept the terms, Soften the fall with wary foot; A little while Still plan and smile, And, fault of novel germs, Mature the unfallen fruit. Curse, if thou wilt, thy sires, Who, when they gave thee breath, Failed to bequeath The needful sinew stark as once, As the bird trims her to the gale, I trim myself to the storm of time, I man the rudder, reef the sail, Obey the voice at eve obeyed at prime: 'Lowly faithful, banish fear, Right onward drive unharmed; The port, well worth the cruise, is near, And every wave is charmed.' |