52
Poems.
And in ambition's gilded cup,
Is e'er a bitter draught
For her fond votaries to sup;
Her shrine's with sorrow fraught.
Is e'er a bitter draught
For her fond votaries to sup;
Her shrine's with sorrow fraught.
So give me back my childhood's years,
Heart light as thistle-down,
And eyes undimmed with rising tears,
The joys in childhood known.
Heart light as thistle-down,
And eyes undimmed with rising tears,
The joys in childhood known.
A DREAM, OR GOD KNOWS BEST.
Sometimes beneath the richest jewel robes,
The weary heart in supreme anguish throbs,
For this vain haughty world no succor gives
To those who mourn o'er lost chords in this life.
But God, who clothes the lilies of the field,
And gave the birds their plumage bright and warm,
O'er all His creatures, both the great and small,
Has a wise care, and suits His gifts to each.
Although His blessings sometimes come disguised.
With wisdom and unfathomable love
He shapes and rules the destinies of men.
So if we trust in Him, all will be well;
E'en as the man who treads in virtue's paths
The weary heart in supreme anguish throbs,
For this vain haughty world no succor gives
To those who mourn o'er lost chords in this life.
But God, who clothes the lilies of the field,
And gave the birds their plumage bright and warm,
O'er all His creatures, both the great and small,
Has a wise care, and suits His gifts to each.
Although His blessings sometimes come disguised.
With wisdom and unfathomable love
He shapes and rules the destinies of men.
So if we trust in Him, all will be well;
E'en as the man who treads in virtue's paths
