But the full graces of thy prime
Shall, in their weak beginnings, be
Lost in an unremembered time
Of holy infancy.
This blessing is the first and best;
Yet has not prayer been made in vain
For them, tho’ not so amply blest,
The lost and found again.
And shouldest thou, alas! forbear
To choose the better, nobler lot,
Yet may we not esteem our prayer
Unheard or heeded not;
If after many a wandering,
And many a devious pathway trod;
If having known that bitter thing,
To leave the Lord thy God,
It yet shall be, that thou at last,
Altho’ thy noon be lost, return
To bind life’s eve in union fast
To this, its blessed morn.
THE MONK AND BIRD.
I.
As he who finds one flower sharp thorns among,
Plucks it, and highly prizes, though before
Careless regard on thousands he has flung,
As fair as this or more;