LONGINGS.
FROM THE FRENCH OF ALPHONSE DE LAMARTINE.
I said: O heart! what is thy goal—thy end?
As the lambs follow where the mothers lead,
Shall I so tread their footprints who precede,
And life’s brief, death-doomed hour in folly spend?
One chases wealth across the restless wave—
Whelmed in the deep, his bark, his hopes go down;
Another loves the acclaim of vain renown,
And finds in glory’s bosom but a grave.