Neither may I, upon life's harvest field,
Mourn for youth's scenes of mingled pride and bliss;
Fairer they surely were, yet could not yield
The deeper sense of peace that follows this.
Mourn for youth's scenes of mingled pride and bliss;
Fairer they surely were, yet could not yield
The deeper sense of peace that follows this.
Onward—still onward, with a constant mind,
And hands more powerful to bless and cheer;
Onward I press nor grieve to leave behind
The shifting pageants of my human year.
And hands more powerful to bless and cheer;
Onward I press nor grieve to leave behind
The shifting pageants of my human year.
Not weakly can I mourn my vanished May,
Or dread the coming of the dark December;
While still in loving eyes I look, and say,
"Friend of my youth! oh, dost thou not remember?"
Or dread the coming of the dark December;
While still in loving eyes I look, and say,
"Friend of my youth! oh, dost thou not remember?"
A PARABLE
Quoth a little brown seed, "I do not know
Why it is I must struggle and grow:
When the earth is so warm, and dark, and still
I would never leave it, had I my will.
Why it is I must struggle and grow:
When the earth is so warm, and dark, and still
I would never leave it, had I my will.
"But something urges me still away;
I must strive and struggle; I cannot stay:
Though what awaits me above up there,
I do not know, and I do not care."
I must strive and struggle; I cannot stay:
Though what awaits me above up there,
I do not know, and I do not care."
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