There are such royal souls to know,
There is so much to learn,
While secrets rest in Nature’s breast
And unnamed stars still burn.
God toiled six days to make this earth,
I think the good folks say—
Six lives we need to give full meed
Of praise—one for each day
(If love stay near).
But oh! if love fled far away,
Or veiled his face from me,
One life too much, why then were such
A life as this would be.
With sullen May and blighted June,
Blurred dawn and haggard night,
This dear old world in space were hurled
If love lent not his light.
(O love, stay near!)
LAST LOVE
The first flower of the spring is not so fair
Or bright as one the ripe midsummer brings.
The first faint note the forest warbler sings
Is not as rich with feeling, or so rare
As when, full master of his art, the air
Drowns in the liquid sea of song he flings
Like silver spray from beak, and breast, and wings.
The artist’s earliest effort, wrought with care,
The bard’s first ballad, written in his tears,
Set by his later toil, seems poor and tame,
And into nothing dwindles at the test.
So with the passions of maturer years.
Let those who will demand the first fond flame,
Give me the heart’s last love, for that is best.
LIFE’S TRACK
This game of life is a dangerous play,
Each human soul must watch alway,
From the first to the very last.
I care not however strong and pure—
Let no man say he is perfectly sure
The dangerous reefs are past.
For many a rock may lurk near by,
That never is seen when the tide is high—
Let no man dare to boast,
When the hand is full of trumps—beware,
For that is the time when thought and care
And nerve are needed most.
As the oldest jockey knows to his cost,
Full many a well-run race is lost
A brief half length from the wire.
And many a soul that has fought with sin,
And gained each battle, at last gives in
To sudden, fierce desire.
And vain seems the effort of spur and whip,
Or the hoarse, hot cry of the pallid lip,
When once we have fallen back.
It is better to keep on stirrup and rein,
The steady poise and the careful strain,
In speeding along Life’s track.
A watchful eye and a strong, true hand
Will carry us under the Judge’s stand,
If prayer, too, does its part;
And little by little the struggling soul
Will grow and strengthen and gain control
Over the passionate heart.