For life—for death. I cannot see the way; I blindly wander on to meet the night; The path grows steeper, and the dying day Soon with its shadows will shut out the light.
Hold thou my hand, O Father! I am tired As a young child that wearies of the road; And the far heights toward which I once aspired Have lost the glory with which erst they glowed.
Take thou my life, and mold it to thy will; Into thy hands commit I all my way; Fain would I lift each cup that thou dost fill, Nor from its brim my pale lips ever stay.
Take thou my life. I lay it at thy feet; And in my death my sure support be thou; So shall I sink to slumber calm and sweet, And wake at morn before thy face to bow!
IDLE WORDS
I.
Once I said, Seeing two soft, starry eyes Darkly bright as midnight skies,— Eyes prophetic of the power Sure to be thy woman’s dower, When the years should crown thee queen Of the realm as yet unseen,— “Some time, sweet, those eyes shall make Lovers mad for their sweet sake!”
II.
Once I said, Seeing tresses, golden-brown, In a bright shower falling down Over neck and bosom white As an angel’s clad in light— Odorous tresses drooping low O’er a forehead pure as snow,— “Some time, sweet, in thy soft hair Love shall set a shining snare!”