Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
A Poem,
Gee tip , my Pegasus I one effort more , And you shall sleep for ever in the straw . ¦ ' # "' ; ¦ - * ' ¦ ' ' & ' ¦ ¦¦ * . ' , ' ¦ . ' ¦*¦ ¦ ' . My Brothers J all the world is but a Stage , And we the actors of the present a Tossed in our little shallops on the sea ,
Time ' s current drifting toward eternity . Now with quick hand we spread our tiny sail , To swell a moment with brief fortune ' s gale , And slowly reef it with a muttered sigh , When storms and tempests sweep in madness by . Pleasant it is , when darkness veils the night , To shape our course by some red beacon light ,
Flashing and burning on the distant shore , Where white-plumed billows charge to the surf ' s drum-beat roar ; And then , from bark to bark , rings out the ery ^ " Goes the night well ? " the watchman shouts " Ay ! ay ! f > What fear we of the tempest or the storm ? Our arms are stalwart , and our hearts are warm—Our vessels steer one course— -while from afar
Gleams the calm radiance of our polar star ; And in the darkest hours of the night In God we trust . He said , " Let there be light "And there was light- —quicker than Heaven-born thought Bursts on the soul , by winged angels brought , The glad light poured ; as doth a cataract rush
Upon its rocky basin , with a gush Like woodland music , bubbling silver spray , Each gleam a jewel on the breast of day . And like a diamond floating in the light , The glad earth surged along , all crested white With sunshine , and her new-born beauties seem Brighter than e ' er the painting of a dream . Great forests robed the earth-ball , and huge rocks ,
Thrown from creation ' s furnace by the shocks Which thundered from His anvil when He forged The massive fragments chaos had disgorged , And shaped a glorious world—though like a drop Upon the glittering bead-chain , angels stop , Whilst counting o ' er the starry rosary , And praying , in low accents , long to see Man like his God—Death—Immortality .
# # * -3 S- # ¦ Perchance our hands may never clasp again ; But as the fleeting hours and moments wane , We , one by one , in manhood's strength may die , Or age may bear us home so silently That few will note our exit . Still the strife
Of poor ambition and of busy life Will clamour in the streets ; but many a friend And Brother o ' er our graves will kindly bend ; Our memories linked to earth by chains of love—Our spirits dwelling in that lodge above , Freed from this mortal vestment of decay , Where God i » light , and Heaven eternal day .
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
A Poem,
Gee tip , my Pegasus I one effort more , And you shall sleep for ever in the straw . ¦ ' # "' ; ¦ - * ' ¦ ' ' & ' ¦ ¦¦ * . ' , ' ¦ . ' ¦*¦ ¦ ' . My Brothers J all the world is but a Stage , And we the actors of the present a Tossed in our little shallops on the sea ,
Time ' s current drifting toward eternity . Now with quick hand we spread our tiny sail , To swell a moment with brief fortune ' s gale , And slowly reef it with a muttered sigh , When storms and tempests sweep in madness by . Pleasant it is , when darkness veils the night , To shape our course by some red beacon light ,
Flashing and burning on the distant shore , Where white-plumed billows charge to the surf ' s drum-beat roar ; And then , from bark to bark , rings out the ery ^ " Goes the night well ? " the watchman shouts " Ay ! ay ! f > What fear we of the tempest or the storm ? Our arms are stalwart , and our hearts are warm—Our vessels steer one course— -while from afar
Gleams the calm radiance of our polar star ; And in the darkest hours of the night In God we trust . He said , " Let there be light "And there was light- —quicker than Heaven-born thought Bursts on the soul , by winged angels brought , The glad light poured ; as doth a cataract rush
Upon its rocky basin , with a gush Like woodland music , bubbling silver spray , Each gleam a jewel on the breast of day . And like a diamond floating in the light , The glad earth surged along , all crested white With sunshine , and her new-born beauties seem Brighter than e ' er the painting of a dream . Great forests robed the earth-ball , and huge rocks ,
Thrown from creation ' s furnace by the shocks Which thundered from His anvil when He forged The massive fragments chaos had disgorged , And shaped a glorious world—though like a drop Upon the glittering bead-chain , angels stop , Whilst counting o ' er the starry rosary , And praying , in low accents , long to see Man like his God—Death—Immortality .
# # * -3 S- # ¦ Perchance our hands may never clasp again ; But as the fleeting hours and moments wane , We , one by one , in manhood's strength may die , Or age may bear us home so silently That few will note our exit . Still the strife
Of poor ambition and of busy life Will clamour in the streets ; but many a friend And Brother o ' er our graves will kindly bend ; Our memories linked to earth by chains of love—Our spirits dwelling in that lodge above , Freed from this mortal vestment of decay , Where God i » light , and Heaven eternal day .