Oldalképek
PDF
ePub

Of Co-day.

Now, is the constant syllable ticking from the clock of time,

Now, is the watch word of the wise, Now, is on the banner of the prudent.

Cherish thy to-day and prize it well, or ever it be gulphed into the past,

Husband it, for who can promise, if it shall have a

morrow?

Behold, thou art, — it is enough; that present care be thine;

Leave thou the past to thy Redeemer, entrust the future to thy Friend;

But for to-day, child of man, tend thou charily the minutes,

The harvest of thy yesterday, the seed-corn of thy mor

row.

Last night died its day; and the deeds thereof were judged:

Thou didst lay thee down as in a shroud, in darkness and deathlike slumber :

But at the trumpet of this morn, waking the world to

resurrection,

Thou didst arise, like others, to live a new day's life: Fear, lest folly give thee cause to mourn, its passing presence,

Fear, that to-morrow's sigh be not, would God it had not dawned!

For, To-day the lists are set, and thou must bear thee

bravely,

Tilting for honor, duty, life, or death without reproach:

To-day, is the trial of thy fortitude, O dauntless Mandau chief;

To-day, is thy watch, O sentinel; to-day thy reprieve, O captive;

What more? to-day is the golden chance wherewith to snatch fruition, –

Be glad, grateful, temperate: there are asps among the figs.

For the potter's clay is in thy hands,—to mould it or to mar it at thy will,

Or idly to leave it, in the sun, an uncouth lump, to harden.

bright presence of To-day, let me wrestle with thee, gracious angel,

I will not let thee go, except thou bless me; bless me, then, To-day:

O sweet garden of To-day, let me gather of thee, precious Eden;

I have stolen bitter knowledge, give me fruits of life

To-day :

O true temple of To-day, let me worship in thee, glorious Zion;

I find none other place nor time, than where I am To

day,

O living rescue of To-day, let me run into thee, ark of

refuge;

I see none other hope nor chance, but standeth in To

day:

O rich banquet of To-day, let me feast upon thee, saving

manna;

I have none other food nor store, but daily bread To

day!

Behold, thou art pilot of the ship, and owner of that freighted galleon,

Competent, with all thy weakness, to steer into safety or be lost:

Compass and chart are in thy hand: roadstead and rocks thou knowest;

Thou art warned of reefs and shallows; thou beholdest the harbor and its lights.

What? shall thy wantonness or sloth drive the gallant vessel on the breakers?

What? shall the helmsman's hand ware upon the black lee shore?

Vain is that excuse; thou canst escape: thy mind is responsible for wrong:

Vain that murmur; thou may'st live: thy soul is debtor for the right.

To-day, in the voyage of thy life down the dark tide of time,

Stand boldly to thy tiller, guide thee by the pole-star, and be safe;

To-day, passing near the sunken rocks, the quicksands and whirlpools of probation,

Leave awhile the rudder to swing round, give the wind its heading, and be wrecked.

The crisis of man's destiny is Now, a still recurring danger;

Who can tell the trials and temptations coming with the coming hour?

Thou standest a target-like Sebastian, and the arrows whistle near thee;

Who knoweth when he may be hit? for great is the company of archers.

Each breath is burdened with a bidding, and every minute hath its mission;

For spirits, good and bad, cluster on the thickly-peopled

air:

Sin may blast thee, grace may bless thee, good or ill this hour:

Chance, and change, and doubt, and fear, are parasites of all.

A man's life is a tower, with a staircase of many steps,

That, as he toileth upward, crumble successively behind

him:

No going back; the past is an abyss; no stopping, for the present perisheth;

But ever hasting on, precarious on the foothold of Today.

Our cares are all To-day; our joys are all To-day;

And in one little word, our life, what is it, but-To-day?

of Co-morrow.

There is a floating island, forward, on the stream of time,

Buoyant with fermenting air, and borne along the rapids; And on that island is a siren, singing sweetly as she goeth,

Her eyes are bright with invitation, and allurement lurketh in her cheeks;

Many lovers, vainly pursuing, follow her beckoning finger,

Many lovers seek her still, even to the cataract of death. To-morrow is that island, a vain and foolish heritage, And, laughing with seductive lips, Delusion hideth there, Often, the precious present is wasted in visions of the future,

And coy To-morrow cometh not with prophecies fulfilled.

There is a fairy skiff, plying on the sea of life,

And charitably toiling still to save the shipwrecked

crews;

Within, kindly patient, sitteth a gentle mariner, Piloting through surf and strait, the fragile barks of

men:

How cheering is her voice, how skilfully she guideth,
How nobly leading onward yet, defying even death!
To-morrow is that skiff, a wise and welcome rescue,
And, full of gladdening words and looks, that mariner
is Hope.

Often, the painful present is comforted by flattering the future,

And kind To-morrow beareth half the burdens of Today.

Co-morrow, whispereth weakness; and To-morrow findeth him the weaker;

To-morrow, promiseth conscience; and behold, no today for a fulfilment.

O name of happy omen unto youth, O bitter word of terror to the dotard,

Goal of folly's lazy wish, and sorrow's ever-coming

friend,

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small]

Thou wealth to many poor, disgrace to many noble, Thou hope and fear, thou weal and woe, thou remedy, thou ruin,

How thickly swarms of thought are clustering round
To-morrow.

The hive of memory increaseth, to every day its cell;
There is the labor stored, the honey of corruption;
Each morn the bees fly forth, to fill the growing comb,
And levy golden tribute of the uncomplaining flowers:
To-morrow is their care; they toil for rest to-morrow;
But man deferreth duty's task, and loveth ease to-day.

To-morrow is that lamp upon the marsh, which a traveller never reacheth;

To-morrow, the rainbow's cup, coveted prize of igno

rance;

To-morrow, the shifting anchorage dangerous trust of mariners;

« ElőzőTovább »