FOUR YEARS.
7
So, with like joy, Light Eterne, we spring
Thee-ward, and leave the pleasant fields of earth,
Forgetting equally its blossomed green
And its dry dusty paths which drank us up
Remorseless,—we, poor humble drops of dew,
That only wished to freshen a flower's breast,
And be exhaled to heaven.
Thee-ward, and leave the pleasant fields of earth,
Forgetting equally its blossomed green
And its dry dusty paths which drank us up
Remorseless,—we, poor humble drops of dew,
That only wished to freshen a flower's breast,
And be exhaled to heaven.
O Thou supreme
All-satisfying and immutable One,
It is enough to be absorbed in Thee
And vanish,—though 't were only to a voice
That through all ages with perpetual joy
Goes evermore loud crying, "God! God! God!"
All-satisfying and immutable One,
It is enough to be absorbed in Thee
And vanish,—though 't were only to a voice
That through all ages with perpetual joy
Goes evermore loud crying, "God! God! God!"
FOUR YEARS.
T the midsummer, when the hay was down,Said I, mournfully,—My life is at its prime,
Yet bare lie my meadows, shorn before the time,
In my scorched woodlands the leaves are turning brown.
It is the hot midsummer, and the hay is down.
