They leave behind the boding wind,
The frosted fields, the branches bare.
Frail lovers of the languid rose,
A nobler joy yon raven knows,
That dares abide the wintry tide
And revel in the blinding snows.
Thou, too, O soul, disdain to flee
Where siren ease would beckon thee.
In stress and strain and battle-pain,
Win thou thy peace by victory.
THE CHAMBER OF PEACE.
"Windows that looked toward the Sun-Rising, and the name of that chamber was Peace."
ON that volume penned in prison
For the faith of Christ arisen,
On that web of golden fancies
Spun in holy Bunyan's trances,
Long I mused a Sabbath even,
Weary with the march toward heaven.
Even as Christian, once benighted,
Sloth-betrayed and sore affrighted
For the roaring of the lion,
Darkling trod the path to Zion.
