« ΠροηγούμενηΣυνέχεια »
Haste Not! Rest Not.
WITHOUT haste! without rest! Bind the motto to thy breast; Bear it with thee as a spell;
Storm or sunshine, guard it well!
Heed not flowers that round thee bloom,
Haste not! Let no thoughtless deed
Rest not! Life is sweeping by,
Haste not! rest not! calmly wait;
BRINGING OUR SHEAVES WITH US. 373
Bringing our Sheaves with us.
HE time for toil has passed, and night has come,→→
Last of the laborers, thy feet I gain,
Lord of the harvest! and my spirit grieves That I am burdened, not so much with grain, As with a heaviness of heart and brain;— Master, behold my sheaves !
Few, light, and worthless,-yet their trifling weight
Full well I know I have more tares than wheat,
Brambles and flowers, dry stalks and withered leaves;
Wherefore I blush and weep, as at thy feet
Master, behold my sheaves !"
I know these blossoms, clustering heavily,
So do I gather strength and hope anew;
For well I know thy patient love perceives Not what I did, but what I strove to do,And though the full ripe ears be sadly few, Thou wilt accept my sheaves.
"It is more Blessed."
IVE! as the morning that flows out of heaven; Give! as the waves when their channel is riven; Give! as the free air and sunshine are given; Lavishly, utterly, joyfully give :— Not the waste drops of thy cup overflowing, Not the faint sparks of thy hearth ever glowing, Not a pale bud from the June roses blowing;
Give, as He gave thee, who gave thee to live.
Pour out thy love, like the rush of a river,
Through the burnt sands that reward not the giver;
Look to the life that was lavished for thee!
So the wild wind strews its perfumed caresses,
Fairest the vines that on ruin will cling.
Almost the day of thy giving is over;
Thou shalt know God, and the gift that he gave.
Date and Dabitur (Give, and it shall be given).
RAND rough old Martin Luther Bloomed fables-flowers in furze, The better the uncouther;
Do roses stick like burrs?
"A beggar asked an alms
666 Poor who had plenty once,
"Then the beggar, 'See your sins!
Ye had brothers for inmates, twins,
"While Date was in good case
666 'Would ye retrieve the one?
"Only beware relapse!'
The Abbot hung his head; The beggar might be, perhaps, An angel," Luther said.
LITTLE feet! that such long years
O little hands! that weak or strong
Have still so long to give or ask ; I, who so much with book and pen Have toiled among my fellow-men,
Am weary thinking of your task.
O little hearts! that throb and beat
Such limitless and strong desires;
Now covers and conceals its fires.
O little souls! as pure and white
Direct from heaven, their source divine;
How lurid looks this soul of mine!
HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.