CCLXXXVI

SAY NOT THE STRUGGLE NOUGHT AVAILETH

SAY not the struggle nought availeth,

The labour and the wounds are vain,

The enemy faints not, nor faileth,

And as things have been they remain.

If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;
It may be, in yon smoke concealed,
Your comrades chase e'en now the flyers,

And, but for you, possess the field.

For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
Seem here no painful inch to gain,

Far back, through creeks and inlets making,
Comes silent, flooding in, the main.

And not by eastern windows only,

When daylight comes, comes in the light,
In front, the sun climbs slow, how slowly,
But westward, look, the land is bright.

A. H. CLOUGH.

CCLXXXVII

A THANKSGIVING

WE thank Thee, O God of earth and heaven,
Source and essence of all we know,
Thou, who the power to man has given
Thy life to witness,-Thy life to show.
To us it is nothing to call Thee Father,

Mother, or Brother, or Bride, or Friend;
Manifold motions of Thee; or rather

The manifold rays in Thy love that blend.

Whether we see Thee as sole and single ;Whether as Three on Thy name we call,Many natures in all things mingle,

Why not Three, in the source of all? Whether in form as of Son and Father,

A dual Being Thou seem'st to bear; Or whether in nature we see Thee rather, Worshipping Godhood everywhere.

Whether in shape as of outer being

Fitted for flesh Thy face to see;

Or whether unto us Thy spirit seeing,

Thy flesh and Thy bones have ceased to be;

We bless Thy goodness, that workest to free us,
In all these forms Thy spirit to know;
What, alas! were we, should'st Thou only see us
In the shapes of our life which to men we show.

For the motions of life that make up being;
For being that blends them all in one;
For thought and emotion—for feeling and seeing
In the warmth and the light of an inner sun;
For life, with its joys of gaining and giving,

For death, which is life in another dress ;—
Life, that is more than merely living,-
Death, that is more than life,—and less !

For joys whereby the warmth is given

That eases the strain of the Spirit's strife;
For sorrows, that are as the winds of heaven,
Bracing the nerves of the inner life;
For strife springing forth from the just reaction
Of forces moving the life within;

For peace, whereto by some subtle paction
Strife moveth ever, its way to win.

For Fate, which setteth a bound to being,
A limit to knowledge, a law to ill;
For faith, which is as the spirit of seeing,
For love, which is as the soul of will;

For these, and how many a boon and blessing,
From these outpouring in gladsomeness;

Thy love, as the spirit of all confessing,

Thy Spirit, O Infinite Love! we bless!

CCLXXXVIII

EARLY DEATH

A. A. WATTS.

SHE pass'd away, like morning dew,
Before the sun was high;

So brief her time, she scarcely knew
The meaning of a sigh.

As round the rose its soft perfume,
Sweet love around her floated;
Admired she grew-while mortal doom
Crept on, unfear'd, unnoted.

Love was her guardian Angel here,
But Love to Death resign'd her;
Tho' Love was kind, why should we fear,
But holy Death is kinder?

H. COLERIDGE.

Ꮓ

CCLXXXIX

THE BIRD'S RELEASE

Go forth, for she is gone!

With the golden light of her wavy hair,

She is gone to the fields of the viewless air;
She hath left her dwelling lone!

Go forth, and like her be free!

With thy radiant wing, and thy glancing eye,
Thou hast all the range of the sunny sky,
And what is our grief to thee?

Is it aught e'en to her we mourn?

Doth she look on the tears by her kindred shed? Doth she rest with the flowers o'er her gentle head, Or float, on the light wind borne ?

We know not-but she is gone!

Her step from the dance, her voice from the song, And the smile of her eye from the festal throng; She hath left her dwelling lone!

MRS. HEMANS.