. Farm legends. e enrichedby a grave; Shall we deem that lifes dream is a toil and a snare?Shall we lie down and die on the couch of despair?Shall we throw needless woe on our sad heart bereft?Or, grown tearfully wise, look with pain-chastened eyes at the joys thatare left? For the tree that we see on the landscape so fair,When we hie to it nigh, may be fruitless and bare;While the vine that doth twine neath the blades of the grass,With sweet nourishment rife, holds the chalice of life toward our lips as we pass. 11 162 Poems of Hope. So with hope let us grope for what joys we may find;Let not
. Farm legends. e enrichedby a grave; Shall we deem that lifes dream is a toil and a snare?Shall we lie down and die on the couch of despair?Shall we throw needless woe on our sad heart bereft?Or, grown tearfully wise, look with pain-chastened eyes at the joys thatare left? For the tree that we see on the landscape so fair,When we hie to it nigh, may be fruitless and bare;While the vine that doth twine neath the blades of the grass,With sweet nourishment rife, holds the chalice of life toward our lips as we pass. 11 162 Poems of Hope. So with hope let us grope for what joys we may find;Let not fears, let not tears make us heedless or blind;Let us think, while we drink the sweet pleasures that are,That in sea or in ground many gems may be found that outdazzle thestar. There be deeds may fill needs we have suffered in vain,There be smiles whose pure wiles may yet banish our pain;And the heaven to us given may be found ere we die;For Gods glory and grace, and His great holy place, are not all in When my Ship went Down. 163 WHEN MY SHIP WENT DOWN. Sank a palace in the sea, When my ship went down;Friends whose hearts were gold to me-Gifts that neer again can be— Neath the waters brown. There you lie, O Ship, to-day, In the sand-bar stiff and gray! You who proudly sailed away From the splendid town. Now the oceans bitter cupMeets your trembling lip; Now on deathly woes you sup; And your humbled pride looks upFrom Disasters grip. Ruins nets around you weave; But I have no time to grieve; I will promptly, I believe,Build another ship. 164 Poems of Hope, TO THE CARLETON CIRCLE (Of Hudson, Michigan : the Anthoi-s native town) [In uesponse to their Request for a Word of Greeting at their Annhal Reunion, Monday Evening, July 26, 1886.] Sometimes there comes to me a word of clieer, From yonder region where the sun goes down ;Where I have often watched him leave awhile the jewels of his voice glides over Eries stormy edge—It climbs the Allegh
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookpublishernewyo, bookyear1903
