And how long will man suffer so?
Until his soul of Freedom sings,
And, strengthened by his sufferings,
He breaks the worn-out leading-strings,
And calls to stricter reckonings
Those costliest things—unworthy Kings.
Not all are worthless. Some, with sense of duty,
Strive to invest their lives with grace and beauty.
To such—high honour! But the rest—self-seekers,
Pride-puffed—out with them!—useless mischief-makers!
The time is past when any man or nation
Will meekly bear unrighteous domination.
The time is come when every burden-bearer
Must, in the fixing of his load, be sharer.
IS LIFE WORTH LIVING?
Is life worth living?
It depends on your believing;—
If it ends with this short span,
Then is man no better than
The beasts that perish.
But a Loftier Hope we cherish.
"Life out of Death" is written wide
Across Life's page on every side.
We cannot think as ended, our dear dead who died.
What room is left us then for doubt or fear?
Love laughs at thought of ending—there, or here.
God would lack meaning if this world were all,
And this short life but one long funeral.
God is! Christ loves! Christ lives!
And by His Own Returning gives
Sure pledge of Immortality.
The first-fruits—He; and we—
The harvest of His victory.
The life beyond shall this life far transcend,
And Death is the Beginning—not the End!
GOD'S HANDWRITING
He writes in characters too grand
For our short sight to understand;
We catch but broken strokes, and try
To fathom all the mystery
Of withered hopes, of death, of life,
The endless war, the useless strife,—
But there, with larger, clearer sight,
We shall see this—