Chapter 60
--From the Persian, tr. by William Rounseville Alger.
Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; Behind the clouds is the sun still s.h.i.+ning; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Into each life some rain must fall, Some days must be dark and dreary.
--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
Strength for to-day is all that we need, As there never will be a to-morrow; For to-morrow will prove but another to-day With its measure of joy or of sorrow.
Don't think your lot the worst because Some griefs your joy a.s.sail; There aren't so very many saws That never strike a nail.
--Nixon Waterman.
When it drizzles and drizzles, If we cheerfully smile, We can make the weather, By working together, As fair as we choose in a little while.
For who will notice that clouds are drear If pleasant faces are always near, And who will remember that skies are gray If he carries a happy heart all day?
ASPIRATION
DESIRE, SUPPLICATION, GROWTH
GRADATIM
Heaven is not reached by a single bound; But we build the ladder by which we rise From the lowly earth to the vaulted skies, And we mount to its summit round by round.
I count this thing to be grandly true: That the n.o.ble deed is a step toward G.o.d, Lifting the soul from the common clod To a purer air and a broader view.
We rise by the things that are under feet; By what we have mastered of good and gain, By the pride deposed and the pa.s.sion slain, And the vanquished ills that we hourly meet.
We hope, we aspire, we resolve, we trust, When the morning calls us to life and light; But our hearts grow weary, and ere the night Our lives are treading the sordid dust.
We hope, we resolve, we aspire, we pray, And we think that we mount the air on wings, Beyond the recall of sensual things, While our feet still cling to the heavy clay.
Wings for the angels, but feet for men!
We may borrow the wings to find the way; We may hope, and resolve, and aspire, and pray; But our feet must rise, or we fall again.
Only in dreams is a ladder thrown From the weary earth to the sapphire walls, But the dreams depart, and the vision falls, And the sleeper wakes on his pillow of stone.
Heaven is not reached at a single
--Josiah Gilbert Holland.
MORE AND MORE
Purer yet and purer I would be in mind, Dearer yet and dearer Every duty find; Hoping still and trusting G.o.d without a fear, Patiently believing He will make it clear.
Calmer yet and calmer Trials bear and pain, Surer yet and surer Peace at last to gain; Suffering still and doing, To his will resigned, And to G.o.d subduing Heart and will and mind.
Higher yet and higher Out of clouds and night, Nearer yet and nearer Rising to the light-- Light serene and holy-- Where my soul may rest, Purified and lowly, Sanctified and blest.
--Johann W. von Goethe.
THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS
This is the s.h.i.+p of pearl which, poets feign, Sails the unshadowed main,-- The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren sings And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea maids rise to sun their streaming hair.
Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl; Wrecked is the s.h.i.+p of pearl!
And every chambered cell, Where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell, As the frail tenant shaped his growing sh.e.l.l, Before thee lies revealed-- Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed.
Year after year beheld the silent toil That spread his l.u.s.trous coil; Still, as the spiral grew, He left the last year's dwelling for the new, Stole with soft step its s.h.i.+ning archway through, Built up its idle door, Stretched in its last-found home, and knew the old no more.
Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, Child of the wandering sea, Cast from her lap, forlorn!
From thy dead lips a clearer note is born Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn; While on my ear it rings, Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings:
Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul!
As the swift seasons roll!
Leave thy low-vaulted past!
Let each new temple, n.o.bler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown sh.e.l.l by life's unresting sea!
--Oliver Wendell Holmes.
WALKING WITH JESUS
My Saviour, on the Word of Truth In earnest hope I live, I ask for all the precious things Thy boundless love can give.
I look for many a lesser light About my path to s.h.i.+ne; But chiefly long to walk with thee, And only trust in thine.
Thou knowest that I am not blest As Thou would'st have me be Till all the peace and joy of faith Possess my soul in thee; And still I seek 'mid many fears, With yearnings unexpressed, The comfort of thy strengthening love, Thy soothing, settling rest.
It is not as Thou wilt with me Till, humbled in the dust, I know no place in all my heart Wherein to put my trust: Until I find, O Lord! in thee-- The lowly and the meek-- That fullness which thy own redeemed Go nowhere else to seek.
Then, O my Saviour! on my soul, Cast down but not dismayed, Still be thy chastening healing hand In tender mercy laid: And while I wait for all thy joys My yearning heart to fill, Teach me to walk and work with thee, And at thy feet sit still.
--Anna Let.i.tia Waring.
A PRAYER TO THE G.o.d OF NATURE
G.o.d of the roadside weed, Grant I may humbly serve the humblest need.
G.o.d of the scarlet rose, Give me the beauty that Thy love bestows.