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STRIVE; WAIT; PRAY.
Strive; yet I do not promise
The prize you dream of to-day
And melt in your hand away ;
You would now perchance disdain, Will come when your toil is over,
And pay you for all your pain.
Wait; yet I do not tell you
The hour you long for now,
And a shadow upon its brow,
With a crown of starry light, An hour of joy you know not,
Is winging her silent flight.
Pray; though the gift you ask for
May never comfort your fears, May never repay your pleading,
Yet pray, and with hopeful tears : An answer, not that you long for,
But diviner will come one day; Your eyes are too dim to see it,
Yet strive, and wait, and pray.
Farewell Life! my senses swim,
Welcome Life! the Spirit strives !
el medio de fonte leporum. Surgit amari aliquid, quod in ipsis floribus angat.”
Lucretius. Lib. io.
Well may you wonder at my flight
From those fair gardens, in whose bowers
Is left to grace this world of ours.
On such sweet eves as this, inquire
Where all is found that all desire,
And Time hath wings that never tire;
That Fancy's self to bliss hath given,
That woo the traveller's lip at even.
Though thro' my life's short sunny dream,
Caught in each sparkling eddy there;
Sad thoughts, I knew not whence or why,
Suddenly o'er my spirit fly,
“How bright the sky is,” shade the sky.
Sometimes só vague, so undefin'd,
So causelessly they've come and flown,
But shadows from some world unknown. More oft, however, 'twas the thought
How soon that scene, with all its play
Of life and gladness must decay-
Around me—swept like weeds away!
This thought it was that came to shed
O’er rapture's hour its worst alloys; And, close as shade with sunshine, wed
Its sadness with my happiest joys. Oh, were it not for this sad voice,
Stealing amid our mirth to say,
Ere night may be the earthworm's prey ;
It falls before, it follows behind,
Darkest still when the day is bright; No light without the shadow we find,
And never shadow without the light.
From our shadow we cannot flee away;
It walks when we walk, it runs when we run ; But it tells which way to look for the sun;
We may turn our backs on it any day.
Ever mingle the light and shade
That makes this human world so dear; Sorrow of joy is ever made,
And what were a hope without a fear? .
A morning shadow o'er youth is cast,
Warning from pleasure's dazzling snare; A shadow lengthening across the past,
Fixes our fondest memories there.
Warnin lengthenie memorie
One shadow there is, so dark, so drear,
So broad, we see not the brightness round it; Yet ’tis but the dark side of the sphere
Moving into the light unbounded.