« 前へ次へ »
ISEST thou thus, dim dawn, again,
so loud with voices of the birds, so thick with lowings of the herds, day, when I lost the flower of men ; who tremblest thro' thy darkling red
on yon swoll'n brook that bubbles fast
by meadows breathing of the past, .
a song that slights the coming care,
and Autumn laying here and there
to myriads on the genial earth
memories of bridal, or of birth, and unto myriads more, of death. O, wheresoever those may be,
betwixt the slumber of the poles,
to-day they count as kindred souls ; they know me not, but mourn with me.
FAIR ship, that from the Italian shore
with my lost Arthur's loved remains, spread thy full wings, and waft him o'er. So draw him home to those that mourn
in vain; a favourable speed
ruffle thy mirror'd mast, and lead thro' prosperous floods his holy urn. All night no ruder air perplex
thy sliding keel, till Phosphor, bright as our pure love, thro' early light shall glimmer on the dewy decks. Sphere all your lights around, above;
sleep, gentle heavens, before the prow;
sleep, gentle winds, as he sleeps now, my friend, the brother of my love;
my Arthur, whom I shall not see
till all my widowed race be run:
dear as the mother to the son, more than my brothers are to me.
THE CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE
that serveth not another's will;
SIR H. WOTTON
Y soul, there is a country
afar beyond the stars,
all skilful in the wars:
sweet peace sits crown'd with smiles,
commands the beauteous files. He is thy gracious friend,
and (O my Soul awake!) did in pure love descend,
to die here for thy sake.
If thou canst get but thither,
there grows the flower of peace; the rose that cannot wither,
thy fortress and thy ease. Leave then thy foolish ranges;
for none can thee secure, but One, who never changes,
thy God, thy Life, thy Cure.
With life all other passions fly,
311 O THOU, who by the light of Nature dost enkindle
in us a desire after the light of grace, that by this Thou mayest translate us into the light of glory : I give Thee thanks, O Lord and Creator, that Thou hast gladdened me by Thy Creation, when I was enraptured by the work of Thy hands. Behold, I have completed a work of my calling 'with as much of intellectual strength as Thou hast granted me. I have declared the praise of Thy works to the men who will read the evidences of it, so far as my finite spirit could comprehend them in their infinity. My mind endeavoured to its utmost to reach the truth by philosophy; but if anything unworthy of Thee has been taught by me, a worm born and nourished in sin, do Thou teach me that I may correct it. Have I been seduced into presumption by the admirable beauty of Thy works, or have I sought my own glory amongst men in the construction of a work designed for Thine honour? O then graciously and mercifully forgive me; and finally grant me this favour, that this work may never be injurious; but may conduce to Thy glory and the good of souls.
STILL LIKE HIS NATIVE STREAM
his native stream, and saw it glide
B. W. PROCTER
Could we (which we never can)
Phyllis! to this truth we owe
A TIME FOR EVERY THING
CHEN the crab's fierce constellation
the beams of the bright sun,
then he that will go out to sow