Chapter 138
BUILDING
We are building every day In a good or evil way, And the structure, as it grows, Will our inmost self disclose,
Till in every arch and line All our faults and failings s.h.i.+ne; It may grow a castle grand, Or a wreck upon the sand.
Do you ask what building this That can show both pain and bliss, That can be both dark and fair?
Lo, its name is character!
Build it well, whate'er you do; Build it straight and strong and true; Build it clear and high and broad; Build it for the eye of G.o.d.
--I. E. d.i.c.kenga.
Nor love thy life, nor hate; but what thou livest Live well, how long or short permit to heaven.
--John Milton.
HOLY HABITS
Slowly fas.h.i.+oned, link by link, Slowly waxing strong, Till the spirit never shrink, Save from touch of wrong.
Holy habits are thy wealth, Golden, pleasant chains; Pa.s.sing earth's prime blessing--health, Endless, priceless gains.
Holy habits give thee place With the n.o.blest, best, All most G.o.dlike of thy race, And with seraphs blest.
Holy habits are thy joy, Wisdom's pleasant ways, Yielding good without alloy, Lengthening, too, thy days.
Seek them, Christian, night and morn; Seek them noon and even; Seek them till thy soul be born Without stains--in heaven.
--Thomas Davis.
MAKE HASTE, O MAN! TO LIVE
Make haste, O man! to live, For thou so soon must die; Time hurries past thee like the breeze; How swift its moments fly.
Make haste, O man! to live.
Make haste, O man! to do Whatever must be done, Thou hast no time to lose in sloth, Thy day will soon be gone.
Make haste, O man! to live.
To breathe, and wake, and sleep, To smile, to sigh, to grieve, To move in idleness through earth, This, this is not to live.
Make haste, O man! to live.
The useful, not the great; The thing that never dies, The silent toil that is not lost, Set these before thine eyes.
Make
Make haste, O man! to live.
Thy time is almost o'er; Oh! sleep not, dream not, but arise, The Judge is at the door.
Make haste, O man! to live.
--Horatius Bonar.
TEACH ME TO LIVE
Teach me to live! 'Tis easier far to die-- Gently and silently pa.s.s away-- On earth's long night to close the heavy eye And waken in the glorious realms of day.
Teach me that harder lesson--how to live; To serve thee in the darkest paths of life; Arm me for conflict now, fresh vigor give, And make me more than conqueror in the strife.
Teach me to live thy purpose to fulfill; Bright for thy glory let my taper s.h.i.+ne; Each day renew, remold this stubborn will; Closer round thee my heart's affections twine.
Teach me to live for self and sin no more; But use the time remaining to me yet; Not mine own pleasure seeking as before, Wasting no precious hours in vain regret.
Teach me to live; no idler let me be, But in thy service hand and heart employ.
Prepared to do thy bidding cheerfully-- Be this my highest and my holiest joy.
Teach me to live--my daily cross to bear, Nor murmur though I bend beneath its load.
Only be with me, let me feel thee near, Thy smile sheds gladness on the darkest road.
Teach me to live and find my life in thee, Looking from earth and earthly things away.
Let me not falter, but untiringly Press on, and gain new strength and power each day.
Teach me to live with kindly words for all, Wearing no cold repulsive brow of gloom, Waiting with cheerful patience till thy call Summons my spirit to her heavenly home.
OPPORTUNITY
Master of human destinies am I, Fame, love, and fortune on my footsteps wait, Cities and fields I walk; I penetrate Deserts and seas remote, and, pa.s.sing by Hovel and mart and palace, soon or late I knock, unbidden, once at every gate!
If sleeping, wake--if feasting, rise--before I turn away. It is the hour of fate, And they who follow me reach every state Mortals desire, and conquer every foe Save death; but those who doubt, or hesitate, Condemned to failure, penury, and woe, Seek me in vain and uselessly implore; I answer not, and I return no more.
--John James Ingalls.
THREE DAYS
So much to do; so little done!
Ah! yesternight I saw the sun Sink beamless down the vaulted gray-- The ghastly ghost of yesterday.
So little done; so much to do!
Each morning breaks on conflicts new; But eager, brave, I'll join the fray, And fight the battle of to-day.
So much to do; so little done!
But when it's o'er--the victory won-- O then, my soul, this strife and sorrow Will end in that great, glad to-morrow!
--James Roberts Gilmore.