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. NEVER GIVE UP.
Never give up! there are chances and changes
Helping the hopeful a hundred to one,
Ever success,—if you'll only hope on :
Knowing that Providence mingles the cup, And of all maxims the best, as the oldest,
Is the true watchword of Never give up!
Never give up !—though the grape-shot may rattle,
Or the full thunder-cloud over you burst, Stand like a rock,—and the storm or the battle
Little shall harm you, though doing their worst : Never give up !—if adversity presses,
Providence wisely has mingled the cup, And the best counsel, in all your distresses,
Is the stout watchword of Never give up!
Blame not, ye million worshippers of gold
Modern idolators—their works and ways, When Asia's children, in the times of old,
Knelt to the sun, outpouring prayer and praise
As to God's central throne ; for when the blaze Of that grand eye is on me, and I stand
Watching its majesty with painful gaze,
Had not the Architect of yon bright sphere
Beneath, around, and still to find Him-here ! King of the heart, dwelling in no fixt globe,
But gladly thron’d within the spirit of love, Wearing that light ethereal as a robe.
I KNOW thee not, O moon, -thou caverned realm,
Sad satellite, a giant ash of death,
Where cold, alternate, and the sulphurous breath Of ravaging volcanoes, overwhelm All chance of life like ours,—art thou not
Some fallow world, after a reaping time Of creatures' judgment, resting in thy lot ? Or haplier must I take thee for the blot
On God's fair firmament, the home of crime, The prison-house of sin, where damned souls
Feed upon punishment ?–0 thought sublime, That, amid Night's black deeds, when evil prowls Through the broad world, then, watching sinners
well, Glares over all the wakeful eye of-Hell !
Far-flaming stars, ye sentinels of Space,
Patient and silent ministers around
Seems ever pale with pity and grief profound
A captive eagle chain’d to this dull ground, Look up and love your light in hope and fear ;
Hope, that among your myriad host is one, A kingdom for my spirit, a bright place
Where I shall reign when this short race is run,
An heir of joy, and glory's mighty son ! Yet, while I hope, the fear will freeze my brainWhat if indeed for worthless me remain
No waiting sceptre, no predestined throne ?
HENCE, doubts of darkness! I am not mine own,
But ransomed by the King of that bright host :
In Him my just humility shall boast, And claim through Him that sceptre and that thron e Yes, world of light,—when by the booming sea
At eve I loiter on this shingly coast, In seeming idleness, I gaze on thee, (I know not which—but one,) fated to be
My glorious heritage, my heavenly home, A temple and a paradise for me,
Whence my celestial form at will may roam
To other worlds, unthought and unexplor’d, Whose atmosphere is bliss and liberty,
The palaces and gardens of the Lord !