PARABLES.
171
Of youth's mad wrestling with the waves that drift
Immutably, eternally along.
I would have had them flow through fields and flowers,
Giving and taking freshness, perfume, joy;
It winds through—here. Be silent, O my soul!
—The finger of God's wisdom drew its line.
Immutably, eternally along.
I would have had them flow through fields and flowers,
Giving and taking freshness, perfume, joy;
It winds through—here. Be silent, O my soul!
—The finger of God's wisdom drew its line.
So I lean back and look up to the stars,
And count the ripples circling to the shore,
And watch the solemn river rolling on
Until it widen to the open seas.
And count the ripples circling to the shore,
And watch the solemn river rolling on
Until it widen to the open seas.
PARABLES.
"Hold every mortal joy
With a loose hand."
With a loose hand."
E clutch our joys as children do their flowers;We look at the, but scarce believe them ours,
Till our hot palms have smirched their colors rare
And crushed their dewy beauty unaware.
