ANTICIPATION
How beautiful the earth is still,
To thee--how full of happiness?
How little fraught with
real ill,
Or unreal phantoms of distress!
How spring can bring thee
glory, yet,
And summer win thee to forget
December's sullen time!
Why dost thou hold the treasure
fast,
Of youth's delight, when
youth is past,
And thou art near thy prime?
When those who were thy own
compeers,
Equals in fortune and in
years,
Have seen their morning
melt in tears,
To clouded, smileless day;
Blest, had they died untried
and young,
Before their hearts went
wandering wrong,--
Poor slaves, subdued by
passions strong,
A weak and helpless prey!
'Because, I hoped while they
enjoyed,
And by fulfilment, hope
destroyed;
As children hope, with trustful
breast,
I waited bliss--and cherished
rest.
A thoughtful spirit taught
me soon,
That we must long till life
be done;
That every phase of earthly
joy
Must always fade, and always
cloy:
'This I foresaw--and would
not chase
The fleeting treacheries;
But, with firm foot and
tranquil face,
Held backward from that
tempting race,
Gazed o'er the sands the
waves efface,
To the enduring seas--
There cast my anchor of
desire
Deep in unknown eternity;
Nor ever let my spirit tire,
With looking for WHAT IS
TO BE!
"It is hope's spell that
glorifies,
Like youth, to my maturer
eyes,
All Nature's million mysteries,
The fearful and the fair--
Hope soothes me in the griefs
I know;
She lulls my pain for others'
woe,
And makes me strong to undergo
What I am born to bear.
Glad comforter! will I not
brave,
Unawed, the darkness of
the grave?
Nay, smile to hear Death's
billows rave--
Sustained, my guide, by
thee?
The more unjust seems present
fate,
The more my spirit swells
elate,
Strong, in thy strength,
to anticipate
Rewarding destiny! |
