Page:Littell's Living Age - Volume 125.djvu/144

WAITING.

Waiting! For what? Shall I ever know?
⁠Or shall the new years creep drowsily by
⁠Till my death-day comes; shall I never know why
I was born, and must live out my life of woe?

Is the whole of my lifetime merely a pause
⁠'Twixt my birth that was, and my death to be?
⁠Must I always follow, and never be free?
Am I only effect? Can I never be cause?

Or am I but a link of the weariful chain
⁠Of life, and the sequence of things gone by?
⁠I am forced to live, for I cannot die,
But my life is empty and all in vain.

Yet sometimes I hear my spirit, elate
⁠At the thought of the glorious deeds to be done,
⁠Cry: "Strike! 'Tis the time!" But, in answer, one —
Shall I ever know who? — whispers: "Silence! Wait!"

It cannot be Hope, for her voice is sweet;
⁠It is not Despair, for I know her well:
⁠'Tis like the ceaseless drone of a knell,
And wearies the heart with monotonous beat.

Shall another voice ever whisper to me:
⁠"Awake! 'Tis the hour! Go forward and fight!
⁠Thy probation is ended, and impotent night
Has burst into day!" So shall set me free?

I know not, I know not; this only I dread,
⁠That, ere that voice shall proclaim that hour.
⁠Not only the will may be lost, but the power,
And I may be cold with the nameless dead.

Chambers' Journal.

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BEFORE MARTYRDOM.

Out in the wild night she prayed —
"God! my soul is not afraid;
What is there 'twixt Thee and me
But my frail humanity?

"For this spirit — dark as death —
Death nor darkness injureth,
Only the grave-tapers show
Where Thy light begins to glow.

"For this body — racked and worn —
From Thy semblance crushed and torn
Let earth creep to kindred earth,
That Thy spirit may have birth.

"For this heart, it is not mine,
Wholly, infinitely Thine,
Brand of fire that burns and glows
Through this waste of endless snows.

"Love is love in earth or heaven;
Why should love from love be riven?
God! let all the people see
How Thy love can burn in me.

"But this people will not turn
Though my heart should glow and burn,
Break to flame — nor stay to weep.
Alien still the people keep.

"Oh, my people! mine by fire,
By my pain, love, grief, desire;
Mine for Thee to rouse and wake.
Keep me earth-bound for their sake.

"So, sweet death, be hard for me.
Sweeter far is earth than Thee;
Pass me — leave me till I bring
My people with me to their King."

Good Words.Caroline North.

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WORK.

BY MARY N. PRESCOTT

Sweet wind, fair wind, where have you been?
"I've been sweeping the cobwebs out of the sky;
I've been grinding a grist in the mill hard by;
I've been laughing at work while others sigh;
⁠Let those laugh who win!"

Sweet rain, soft rain, what are you doing?
"I'm urging the corn to fill out its cells;
I'm helping the lily to fashion its bells;
I'm swelling the torrent and brimming the wells;
⁠Is that worth pursuing?"

Redbreast, redbreast, what have you done?
"I've been watching the nest where my fledgelings lie;
I've sung them to sleep with a lullaby;
By-and-by I shall teach them to fly.
⁠Up and away, every one!"

Honey-bee, honey-bee, where are you going?
"To fill my basket with precious pelf;
To toil for my neighbour as well as myself;
To find out the sweetest flower that grows.
Be it a thistle or be it a rose —
⁠A secret worth the knowing!"

Each content with the work to be done,
Ever the same from sun to sun:
Shall you and I be taught to work
By the bee and the bird, that scorn to shirk?

Wind and rain fulfilling His word!
Tell me, was ever a legend heard
Where the wind, commanded to blow, deferred;
Or the rain, that was bidden to fall, demurred?

Transcript.