I fain would check my teara; woold fain enlarge
Unto infinity, my heart-in vain!
Grief presses hard my breast, therefore my tears
Have scarcely dried, ere they again cpring forth.
For theae re Btreams no furnace heat may quench,
Nebuchadnezzar's flames may dry them not.
What is the pleasure of the day for me,
If, in ita crucible, I must renew
Inceasantly the panga of purifying ?
Up, challenge, wrestle, and o'ercome! Be strong !
The late grapes cover all the vine with fruit.
I am not glad, though even the lion's pride
Content itaelf upon the field's poor grass.
My apirit sinka beneath the tide, soars not
With fiuttering seamewa on the moist, soft strand
I follow Fortune not, where'er she lead.
Lord o'er myself, I banish her, compel,
And though her clouds should rain no blessed dew,
Though Bhe withhold the orown, the heart's desire,
Thongh all deceive, thongh honey ohange to gal,
Still am I lord, and will in freedom strive.
MEDITATIONS
FORGET thine Anguish,
Vexed heart, again.
Why shouldet thou languish,
