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Then shall the good stand in immortal bloom,
In the fair gardens of that second birth ; And each bright blossom, mingle its perfume With that of flowers, which never bloomed on
With thy rude ploughshare, Death, turn up the sod,
And spread the furrow for the seed we sow; l'his is the field and Acre of our God,
This is the place, where human harvests growi
TO THE RIVER CHARLES.
RIVER ! that in silence windest
Through the meadows, bright and free,
In the bosom of the sea !
Four long years of mingled feeling,
Half in rest, and half in strife,
Onward, like the stream of life.
Thou hast taught me, Silent River!
Many a lesson, deep and long;
I can give thee but a song.
Oft in sadness and in illness,
I have watched thy current glide,
Overflowed me, like a tide.
And in better hours and brighter,
When I saw thy waters gleam,
And leap onward with thy stream.
Not for this alone I love thee,
Nor because, thy waves of blue From celestial seas above thee
Take their own celestial hue.
Where yon shadowy woodlands hide thee,
And thy waters disappear,
And have made thy margin dear.
More than this ;—thy name reminds me
Of three friends, all true and tried ; And that name, like magic, binds me
Closer, closer to thy side.
Friends my soul with joy remembers !
How like quivering flames they start, When I fan the living embers
On the hearth-stone of my heart !
'T is for this, thou Silent River !
That my spirit leans to thee; Thou hast been a generous giver,
Take this idle song from me.
Blind Bartimeus at the gates
The thronging multitudes increase;
But still, above the noisy crowd,
Then saith the Christ, as silent stands
Ye that have eyes, yet cannot see,
THE GOBLET OF LIFE.
FILLED is Life's goblet to the brim;
With solemn voice and slow.
No purple flowers,
no garlands green,
Thick leaves of misletoe.
This goblet, wrought with curious art,
By strong convulsions rent apart,
Are running all to waste.
And as it mantling passes round,
And give a bitter taste.
Above the lowly plants it towers,
Lost vision to restore.
It gave new strength, and fearless mood;
A wreath of fennel wore.
Then in Life's goblet freely press,
New light and strength they give!
And he who has not learned to know
He has not learned to live.
The prayer of Ajax was for light;
To see his foeman's face.
Let our unceasing, earnest prayer
One half the human race.
O suffering, sad humanity!
afflicted ones, who lie Steeped to the lips in misery, Longing, and yet afraid to die,
Patient, though sorely tried!
I pledge you in this cup of grief,
Then sleep we side by side
MAIDEN! with the meek, brown eyes,
Thou whose locks outshine the sun,
Standing, with reluctant feet,
Gazing, with a timid glance,