Nor maddening draughts of Hippocrene, Like gleams of sunshine, flash between Thick leaves of mistletoe. This goblet, wrought with curious art, And as it mantling passes round, Above the lowly plants it towers, Was gifted with the wondrous powers, It gave new strength, and fearless mood; And he who battled and subdued, Then in Life's goblet freely press, New light and strength they give! And he who has not learned to know The prayer of Ajax was for light; To see his foeman's face Let our unceasing, earnest prayer One half the human race. O suffering, sad humanity! Patient, though sorely tried! I pledge you in this cup of grief, The alarm, the struggle, the relief, Then sleep we side by side. MAIDENHOOD. JAIDEN! with the meek, brown eyes, Like the dusk in evening skies! Thou whose locks outshine the sun, Standing, with reluctant feet, Where the brook and river meet, Womanhood and childhood fleet! Gazing, with a timid glance, Deep and still, that gliding stream Then why pause with indecision, When bright angels in thy vision Beckon thee to fields Elysian? Seest thou shadows sailing by, Hearest thou voices on the shore, That our ears perceive no more, Deafened by the cataract's roar? O, thou child of many prayers! Life hath quicksands, — Life hath snares, – Care and age come unawares! Like the swell of some sweet tune, May glides onward into June. Childhood is the bough, where slumbered Gather, then, each flower that grows, To embalm that tent of snows. Bear a lily in thy hand; Gates of brass cannot withstand Bear through sorrow, wrong, and ruth, |