A weeping evening blurs a smiling day,
Yet why should heads of gold have feet of clay?
60Why should the man that wav'd th' Almighty wand,
That led the murmuring crowd
By pillar and by cloud,
Shivering atop of aery Pisgah stand
Only to see, but never, never tread the Promis'd Land?
IV.
Throw your swords and gauntlets by,