[A NAME IN THE SAND.]
Alone I walked the ocean strand;
A pearly shell was in my hand:
I stooped, and wrote upon the sand
My name—the year—the day.
As onward from the spot I passed,
One lingering look behind I cast:
A wave came rolling high and fast,
And washed my lines away.
And so, methought, ’t will shortly be
With every mark on earth from me;
A wave of dark oblivion’s sea
Will sweep across the place,
Where I have trod the sandy shore
Of time, and been to be no more,
Of me—my day—the name I bore,
To leave nor track, nor trace.
And yet, with Him, who counts the sands,
And holds the waters in his hands,
I know a lasting record stands,
Inscribed against my name,
Of all, this mortal part has wrought;
Of all, this thinking soul has thought;
And from these fleeting moments caught
For glory, or for shame.
[THE CHILD OF A YEAR AND A DAY.]
To grief the night-hours keeping,
A mournful mother lay
Upon her pillow, weeping—
Her babe had passed away.
When she had clasped her treasure
A year and yet a day,
Of time ’t was all its measure—
’T was gone, like morning’s ray!
The jewel, Heaven had shown her,
Of worth surpassing gold,
Was lent her, by its Owner—
’T was never earth’s to hold.