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Somewhat of goodness, something true
From sun and spirit shining through
All faiths, all worlds, as through the dark
Of ocean shines the lighthouse spark,
Attests the presence everywhere
Of love and providential care.
Speak out in acts; the time for words has passed, and deeds alone suffice.
Strike! Thou the Master, we Thy keys,
The anthem of the destinies!
The minor of Thy loftier strain,
Our hearts shall breathe the old refrain--
"Thy will be done!"
Sweet prompting unto kindest deeds
Were in her vary look;
We read her face, as one who reads
A true and holy book.
The craven's fear is but selfishness, like his merriment.
The good is always beautiful, the beautiful is good!
The good which bloodshed could not gain your peaceful zeal shall find.
The harvest song of inward peace.
The hope of all earnest souls must be realized.
The hope of all who suffer,
The dread of all who wrong.
The Pilgrims were right in affirming the paramount authority of the law of God. If they erred in seeking that authoritative law and passed over the Sermon on the Mount for the stern Hebraisms of Moses; if they hesitated in view of the largeness of Christian liberty; if they seemed unwilling to accept the sweetness and light of the good tidings--let us not forget that it was the mistake of men who feared more than they dared to hope, whose estimate of the exceeding awfulness of sin caused them to dwell upon God's vengeance rather than His compassion; and whose dread of evil was so great that, in shutting their hearts against it, they sometimes shut out the good.
- [Forefathers Day]
The Present, the Present is all thou hast
For thy sure possessing;
Like the patriarch's angel hold it fast
Till it gives its blessing.
The simple heart that freely asks in love, obtains.
The slave will be free. Democracy in America will yet be a glorious reality; and when the top-stone of that temple of freedom which our fathers left unfinished shall be brought forth with shoutings and cries of grace unto it, when our now drooping Liberty lifts up her head and prospers, happy will he be who can say, with John Milton, "Among those who have something more than wished her welfare, I, too, have my charter and freehold of rejoicing to me and my heirs."
The smile of God is victory.
The steps of faith fall on the seeming void, and find the rock beneath.
The tints of autumn--a mighty flower garden, blossoming under the spell of the enchanter, Frost.
The wave is breaking on the shore,--
The echo fading from the chime--
Again the shadow moveth o'er
The dial-plate of time!
- [New Year's Day]
The winds with hymns of praise are loud,
Or low with sobs of pain,--
The thunder-organ of the cloud,
The dropping tears of rain.
These children of the meadows born
Of sunshine and of showers!
Through the open door
A drowsy smell of flowers--gay heliotrope,
And white sweet clover, and shy mignonette--
Comes faintly in, and silent chorus lends
To the pervading symphony of peace.
Time is hastening on, and we
What our fathers are shall be,--
Shadow-shapes of memory!
Joined to that vast multitude
Where the great are but the good.
To be saved is only this,--salvation from our own selfishness.
To worship rightly is to love each other, each smile a hymn, each kindly deed a prayer.
Touched by a light that hath no name,
A glory never sung,
Aloft on sky and mountain wall
Are God's great pictures hung.
How changed the summits vast and old!
No longer granite-browed,
They melt in rosy mist; the rock
Is softer than the cloud;
The valley holds its breath; no leaf
Of all its elms is twirled;
The silence of eternity
Seems falling on the world.
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