Harriet Winslow Sewall. 1819-1889. WHY THUS LONGING? Why thus longing, thus forever sighing, Wouldst thou listen to its gentle teaching, Poor indeed thou must be, if around thee Thou no ray of light and joy canst throw; If no silken cord of love hath bound thee To some little world through weal and woe; If no dear eyes thy fond love can brighten, Not by deeds that win the crowd's applauses, Canst thou win and wear the immortal crown. Daily struggling, though unloved and lonely, Thou wilt find, by hearty striving only, When all nature hails the lord of light, Other hands may grasp the field and forest, Thou art wealthier,-all the world is thine. Yet if through earth's wide domains thou rovest, Laid on Thine altar, O my Lord divine, Nor any world-famed sacrifice to make; And Thou alone, O Lord, canst understand How, when I yield Thee this, I yield mine all. Hidden therein, Thy searching gaze can see Struggles of passion-visions of delightAll that I have, or am, or fain would be,— Deep loves, fond hopes, and longings infinite; It hath been wet with tears, and dimmed with sighs, Clenched in my grasp till beauty hath it none; Now from Thy footstool where it vanquished lies, The prayer ascendeth, "May Thy will be done." Take it, O Father, ere my courage fail, And merge it so in Thine own will, that e'en If in some desperate hour my cries prevail, And Thou give me my gift, it may have been So changed, so purified, so fair have grown, So one with Thee, so filled with peace divine, I may not know or feel it as mine own— But gaining back my will, may find it Thine. James Russell Lowell. YUSSOUF. A stranger came one night to Yussouf's tent, Saying: "Behold one outcast and in dread, Against whose life the bow of power is bent, Who flies, and hath not where to lay his head; I come to thee for shelter and for food, To Yussouf, called through all our tribes 'The Good.'" "This tent is mine," said Yussouf, "but no more Than it is God's; come in, and be at peace; Freely shalt thou partake of all my store As I of His who buildeth over these Our tents His glorious roof of night and day, So Yussouf entertained his guest that night, Depart before the prying day grow bold." That inward light the stranger's face made grand, Which shines from all self-conquest; kneeling low, He bowed his forehead upon Yussouf's hand, "Take thrice the gold," said Yussouf, "for with thee Into the desert, never to return, My one black thought shall ride away from me; THE VISION OF SIR LAUNFAL. From "Prelude to Part First." 'Tis heaven alone that is given away, And what is so rare as a day in June? Then heaven tries the earth if it be in tune, Now is the high-tide of the year, |