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LABOR AND REST.
There shall he welcome thee, when thou shalt stand
Through the fair earth to lead thy tender feet.
Shall clothe thy spirit with new strength, and fill
Hast thou not glimpses, in the twilight here,
Of mountains where immortal morn prevails?
A murmur, wafted from that glorious shore,
WILLIAM C. BRYANT.
Labor and Rest.
WO hands upon the breast,
And labor's done;
Two pale feet crossed in rest,—
The race is run;
Two eyes with coin-weights shut,
And all tears cease;
Two lips where grief is mute,
And wrath at peace!—
So pray we oftentimes, mourning our lot,—
God in his mercy answereth not.
Two hands to work addressed
Aye for his praise;
Two feet that never rest,
Walking his ways;
Two eyes that look above,
Still through all tears;
Two lips that breathe but love,
So pray we afterward low on our knees;—
Father, hear these!
DINAH MARIA MULOCK.
'Whom have I in Heaven but Thee ?"
LOVE (and have some cause to love) the earth ;
She is my Maker's creature, therefore good;
She is my mother, for she gave me birth;
She is my tender nurse; she gives me food;
But what's a creature, Lord, compared with thee?
I love the air; her dainty sweets refresh
My drooping soul, and to new sweets invite me;
But what's the air, or all the sweets that she
I love the sea; she is my fellow-creature,
My careful purveyor: she provides me store;
But, Lord of oceans, when compared with thee,
To Heaven's high city I direct my journey,
But what is Heaven, just God, compared to thee?
Without thy presence, earth gives no refection;
AGAIN, how can she but immortal be,
When with the motions of both will and wit,
She still aspireth to eternity,
And never rests till she attain to it?
Water in conduit-pipes can rise no higher
Than the well-head from whence it first doth spring; Then since to Eternal God she doth aspire,
She cannot be but an eternal thing.
"All moving things to other things do move
Of the same kind, which shows their nature such ;"
And as the moisture which the thirsty earth
Sucks from the sea to fill her empty veins,
Long doth she stay, as loth to leave the land
Yet Nature so her streams doth lead and carry,
Within whose watery bosom first she lay.
E'en so the soul, which in this earthly mould
At first her mother Earth she holdeth dear,
And doth embrace the world and worldly things;
Yet under heaven she cannot light on aught
For who did ever yet in honor, health,
Or pleasure of the sense contentment find? Who ever ceased to wish, when he had wealth? Or, having wisdom, was not vexed in mind?
Then as a bee which among weeds doth fall,
Which seem sweet flowers with luster fresh and gay,—
She lights on that and this, and tasteth all,
But pleased with none, doth rise and soar away
So, when the soul finds here no true content,
THE SPACIOUS FIRMAMENT ON HIGH. 359
So, while the virgin soul on earth doth stay,
She, wooed and tempted in ten thousand ways,
With these sometimes she doth her time beguile,
But she distastes them all within a while,
But if upon the world's Almighty King
And sacred messages, her love has sought:
Of him she thinks she cannot think too much;
As almost here she with her bliss doth meet.
But when in heaven she shall his essence see,
This is her sovereign good and perfect bliss:
There is she crowned with garlands of content;
The spacious Firmament on high.
HE spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,