WORLDLINESS.
LIFE'S petty labors move the heart too much.
The soul spends precious gold to purchase dross;
We clasp some bauble close, forgetting loss
Of heart-blood spent in gaining. And the touch
Of dear loved hands; the scent of summer flowers;
The silent, shining stars; the arch of rain
Above a hill; our children's smiles,—are vain
To move us, till we see they are not ours.
No more, no more! This is the wizard's wand
That changes all to gold. Oh! could we know
The blessing of sweet moments as they go,
The world would have less need of lock and band
Against its evil. Envy, selfish fears
Would be unknown as in pure childhood's years.
The soul spends precious gold to purchase dross;
We clasp some bauble close, forgetting loss
Of heart-blood spent in gaining. And the touch
Of dear loved hands; the scent of summer flowers;
The silent, shining stars; the arch of rain
Above a hill; our children's smiles,—are vain
To move us, till we see they are not ours.
No more, no more! This is the wizard's wand
That changes all to gold. Oh! could we know
The blessing of sweet moments as they go,
The world would have less need of lock and band
Against its evil. Envy, selfish fears
Would be unknown as in pure childhood's years.