LIFE
XXXVIII
THROUGH the straight pass of sufferingThe martyrs even trod,Their feet upon temptation,Their faces upon God.
A stately, shriven company;Convulsion playing round,Harmless as streaks of meteorUpon a planet’s bound.
Their faith the everlasting troth;Their expectation fair;The needle to the north degreeWades so, through polar air.
XXXIX
I MEANT to have but modest needs,Such as content, and heaven;Within my income these could lie,And life and I keep even.
But since the last included both,It would suffice my prayerBut just for one to stipulate,And grace would grant the pair.
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