THE PEBBLE’S SOLILOQUY.
Though but a pebble on the shore of time,
I feel my mission is sublime.
Though man may tread me ’neath his careless feet—
With scornful look will e’er me greet—
I have my place, no one that place can fill;
I live, and do my Master’s will.
There is a power that lies within my heart—
I must live on, and do my part.
I am a part of God—His loving thought,
And for some purpose I was wrought.
Naught else on earth could fill the pebble’s place.
To mountains grand my life I trace.
I will arise above my low estate,
And with the angels even mate.
I feel, I know, a pebble hath a soul,
And heaven is its right, its goal.
God put me here, so why should I complain?
I know I was not made in vain.
To you the song of ages I can sing.
Sweet flowers, in time, will from me spring.
And what is man? A pebble on Life’s strand—
With me, God holds him in His hand.
And e’en from me deep lessons he can learn.
To dust his body will return.
’Tis true he claims a soul, and so do I;
For soul is God, and God doth in me lie.
All that hath life, hath soul I do avow.
With love, all things God doth endow.
I have ambition, and some day will rise
To meet my God beyond the skies.
For everything on earth, or in the sea
Hath part in God, and immortality.
NOTE.
From the criticism of a friend, I am led to explain myself in regard to this poem (The Pebble) and some others. What is soul? That which lives forever—Well, a pebble disintegrates, and vegetation springs up from it. Vegetation supports the lower forms of life, which in turn support the higher, from atom up to God. Life is not matter, though in all matter—Life, Soul, goes on through all eternity. God is in everything that he has created; therefore, everything has soul.
AN ANGEL’S MESSAGE.
“Make merry,” cried the king, “drive care away.
I would not think of crown nor nation now.
The gayest of the gay I fain would be,
I would that none today before me bow.”
“Today I would as humblest subject be,
And I would even know the want of food.
A vision was vouchsafed to me this morn,
Methinks an angel by my bedside stood.”
“And one by one he placed before mine eyes
My subjects poor, who live in direst need,
Whilst I, in thoughtless rioting have dwelt.
And not of them have ever taken heed.”
“Make haste and send swift couriers o’er the land,
Through every hamlet, and through every town.
Henceforth my scepter shall be love to all,
And justice evermore shall be my crown.”
“Instead of pomp and pageantry, I will
Hereafter seek to know my subjects all;
Henceforth I’ll be a king in very sooth,
And none need fear upon their king to call.”
“A monarch I will be of stricken hearts;
Loud hallelujahs through my kingdom ring,
For nevermore shall Hunger stalk abroad,
A dark, dark blot upon the title, King.”
“Swift justice shall be meted out to all;
Mine eyes are opened now.—I have been blind
To all the misery that around me lay,
All heedless of the sufferings of mankind.”
“So, merry be, for I have found my soul,
And Love is now the watchword of your king.
Rejoice, and be exceeding glad, henceforth.
Glad tidings now to all my people bring.”
THE RACE OF LIFE WITH TIME.
Life and Time once ran a race
O’er hills of sorrow and despair.
Life often halted by the way
For he had many ills to bear,
But Time went on, and on, and on.
Poor Life oft weary was, and worn.
Oft fell at Time’s unflagging feet.
But rose again with strength renewed,
And valiantly old Time did greet.
Who still went on, and on, and on.
Though Life oft blinded was by tears,
Discouraged he could never be.—
While Time rushed on to win the race;
Life’s work was for eternity.
Yet Time still onward went his way.
Life cried, O tarry, father Time!
One moment stop in thy mad race;
There is so much that I must do,
So many problems yet to face.
Time took no heed, but still rushed on.
Life often staggered ’neath his load,
And ever begged that Time would stay.
But Time, with scorn upon his brow
Rushed faster, faster on his way.
Went madly on, and on, and on.
Time had precedence in the race,
And to Life’s pleadings paid no heed.
He cared not for Life’s weariness,
Nor would one point to him concede.
But still went on, and on, and on.
O Time! cried Life, one moment pause!
O stay one moment in your flight,
For I am weak, the road is rough;
Too soon, too soon comes death’s dark night.
Still Time went on, and on, and on.
Time went his way, nor heeded he
That Life was weary, worn, distressed.
Life’s burdens all too heavy were;
At every dawn Time was refreshed,
With courage new went on his way.
But Life still struggled bravely on,
With patience bore his heavy load,
And though he often fell by way
Upon the weary upward road,
Time took no heed, but still went on.
Life begged, implored that Time would halt,
But Time ne’er tarried on Life’s way;
But when Life wept, with pitying hand
Time stopped to wipe the tears away,
And then went on, and on, and on.
At last Time seemed to fall behind—
Then Life with joy increased his pace.
Time laughed with almost fiendish glee,
He knew that Life would lose the race,
While he would still go on, and on.
Poor Life gave up the fight at last,
He laid his burdens down and died.
But still with agonizing voice
With his last breath to Time he cried.
Time took no heed, but still went on.
O DEATH WHERE IS THY STING?
The world will still go on its course
When we have passed away.
Not e’en one ripple on Life’s waves
There’ll be for e’en one day.
How vain and fleeting is all life,
’Tis but a little breath.
’Tis but a smile, and then a tear,
And then to us comes death.
We have high hopes at life’s bright morn,
Alas! they fade by noon.
They fade, they wither, fall to earth,
And death is then a boon.
Yet over all our dead, dead hopes,
We joyfully will sing:
“O Grave where is thy victory?
O Death where is thy sting.”