ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. "Ah you, you care for rhymes; These are not idle, as so many are, But set hearts beating pure as well as fast.” FROM QUEENS' GARDENS. WHAT WORK. AT are we set on earth for? Say, to toil Nor seek to leave thy tending of the vines, For all the heat o' the day, till it declines, And Death's mild curfew shall from work assoil. God did anoint thee with His odorous oil, To wrestle, not to reign; and He assigns All thy tears over, like pure crystallines, For younger fellow-workers of the soil To wear for amulets. So others shall Take patience, labor, to their heart and hand, From thy hand, and thy heart, and thy brave cheer, And God's grace fructify through thee to all. The least flower, with a brimming cup, may stand And share its dew-drop with another near. COMFORT. SPEAK low to me, my Saviour, low and sweet From out the hallelujahs, sweet and low, Lest I should fear and fall, and miss Thee so Who art not missed by any that entreat. CONSOLATION. LL are not taken! there are left behind Living Beloveds, tender looks to bring, And make the daylight still a happy thing, And tender voices, to make soft the wind. But if it were not so, if I could find No love in all the world for comforting, Where "dust to dust" the love from life disjoined – I stood alone (as some forsaken lamb Goes bleating up the moors in weary dearth), Crying, "Where are ye, O my loved and loving?”. I know a Voice would sound, "Daughter, I AM. Can I suffice for Heaven, and not for earth?" I IRREPARABLENESS. HAVE been in the meadows all the day, And gathered there the nosegay that you see; When such do field-work on a morn of May: My heart is very tired, my strength is low; TEARS. THANK God, bless God, all ye who suffer not That is light grieving! lighter, none befell, Tears! what are tears? The babe weeps in its cot, The bride weeps; and before the oracle Of high-faned hills, the poet hath forgot That moisture on his cheeks. Thank God for grace, Whoever weeps: albeit, as some have done, |