Page:Poems McDonald.djvu/53

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the promised land.
47
    Yet through thy little span,
Thou would'st resign a world with glory rife,
    For the short dream of life.

    Too often thou dost turn,
Like them of old, from Canaan's heavenly shore,
And seek the grovelling joys of earth once more,
    And where her altars burn
Bow down in homage, yielding unto dust
    Thy heart's unholy trust.

    Thou, too, dost turn away
From the bright goal before thee, and pursue
Some fleeting shadow, that must cheat thy view;
    Some idol, which decay
Must stamp with ruin, till the light
    Of heaven eludes thy sight.