And often when the tide of care
Beat strong against my fragile bark—
When stormy doubt loom'd everywhere,
With nought to light the gloomy dark—
The faith I knew in early days,
Ere yet I trod the world's hard ways,
Led gently through the 'wildering maze,
And whispered words of peace!
Sweet peace, amid the din and strife
And holy thoughts and calm repose;
The promise of a better life—
The joy that from believing flows!
As when amid these scenes I'd stray,
And dream through all the golden day
Of coming years, in bright array,
Till earth would seem a heaven!
The Hand that led Youth's steps aright,
The Love that blessed its careless hours—
Shall they not strengthen for the fight,
Then wreathe the Victor's brow with flowers?
Yes! and ere from these scenes I go,
I've learned what all must come to know—
Earth's wisdom is but empty show—
"The child shall teach the man!"
IDOL WORSHIP.
Idol worship in these later ages,
When the light of learning shines so clear,
Golden sayings graved on million pages—
Wisdom's voices sounding far and near.
Idol worship, subtle and deceiving,
Lives mis-spent and talents thrown away;
Grim remorse, and after years of grieving—
Skeletons that haunt us night and day.
Idols have we manifold in number—
Idols worshipped both in age and youth;
Visions that beguile life's fitful slumber,
Soul-destroying, blinding us to truth.
All unreal dreams that fade and perish,
Painted idols, rich in gilded shrines—
Airy phantoms that we blindly cherish,
Clad in borrowed tints from Fancy's mines.
All the shining, glittering, worthless splendour—
All the brilliance of the earthly toy
That we deck with careful hands and tender,
Is not gold, but dross and foul alloy.
Earth-born idols, lovely but in seeming,
Flitting round us in the moonlight hours
On Love's holy shrine we place them dreaming,
"Though all else may leave us, this is ours!"