Where lies the land to which the ship would go? Far, far ahead, is all her seamen know. And where the land she travels from? Away, Far, far behind, is all that they can say. Charles kingsley. 1819-1875. A FAREWELL. My fairest child, I have no song to give you; Be good, sweet maid, and let who will be clever ; Do noble things, not dream them, all day long; And so make life, death, and that vast forever One grand sweet song. G. Washington Moon. WHO SHALL ROLL AWAY THE STONE? That which weeping ones were saying We, the same weak faith betraying, Say in our sad hours of woe; Looking at some trouble lying In the dark and dread unknown, We, too, often ask with sighing, "Who shall roll away the stone?" Thus with care our spirits crushing, For, before the way was ended, Many a storm-cloud sweeping o'er us Ofttimes in the feared to-morrow Sunshine comes, the cloud has flown. Ask not, then, in foolish sorrow, Who shall roll away the stone?" * * * * * Anna L. Waring. 1820. MY TIMES ARE IN THY HAND. Father, I know that all my life And the changes that will surely come, But I ask Thee for a present mind I ask Thee for a thoughtful love, I would not have the restless will Or secret thing to know; I would be treated as a child, Wherever in the world I am, I have a fellowship with hearts And a work of lowly love to do, For the Lord on whom I wait. So I ask Thee for the daily strength, And a mind to blend with outward life, And if some things I do not ask, I would have my spirit filled the more There are briars besetting every path, There is a cross in every lot, And an earnest need for prayer ; But a lowly heart that leans on Thee Is happy anywhere. In a service which Thy will appoints, For my secret heart is taught "the truth free"; That makes Thy children And a life of self-renouncing love Is a life of liberty. Matthew Arnold. 1822-1888. SELF-DEPENDENCE. Weary of myself, and sick of asking And a look of passionate desire O'er the sea and to the stars I send : "Ye who from my childhood up have calmed me, Calm me, ah, compose me to the end! "Ah, once more," I cried, "ye stars, ye waters, On my heart your mighty charm renew; Still, still let me, as I gaze upon you, Feel my soul becoming vast like you !” From the intense, clear, star-sown vault of heaven, Over the lit sea's unquiet way, In the rustling night air came the answer : "Would'st thou be as these are? Live as they. "Unaffrighted by the silence round them, Undistracted by the sights they see, These demand not that the things without them Yield them love, amusement, sympathy. |