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Be gather'd like a scroll within the
tomb Unread forever.
This is life to come, Which martyr'd men have made more
glorious For us who strive to follow. May I
reach That purest heaven, be to other souls The cup of strength in some great
agony, Enkindle generous ardor, feed pure love, Beget the smiles that have no cruelty, Be the sweet presence of a good diffus’d, And in diffusion ever more intense! So shall I join the choir invisible, Whose music is the gladness of the world.
WANDERED lonely as a
That floats on high o'er
vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.
Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
Along the margin of a bay:
The waves beside them danced, but they
Outdid the sparkling waves in glee;
In such a jocund company;
For oft, when on my couch I lie,
In vacant or in pensive mood,
Which is the bliss of solitude;
OES the road lead up hill
all the way?
Yes, to the very end.
the whole long day? From morn to night, my friend. But is there for the night a resting
place? A roof for when the slow dark hours
begin? May not the darkness hide it from my
face? You cannot miss that inn. Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?
Those who have gone before. Then must I knock, or call when just
in sight? They will not keep you standing at
the door. Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and
weak? Of labor you shall find the sum. Will there be beds for me and all who
-Christian G. Rossetti. BELIEVE ME, IF ALL THOSE ENDEARING YOUNG
ELIEVE me, if all those en
dearing young charms, B Which I gaze on so fondly
to-day, Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms, Like fairy-gifts fading away! Thou wouldst still be adored as at this
moment thou art, Let thy loveliness fade as it will, And around the dear ruin each wish of
Would entwine itself verdantly still. It is not while beauty and youth are
thine own, And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear, That the fervor and faith of a soul may
be known, To which time will but make thee
more dear! O the heart that has truly loved never
forgets, But as truly loves on to the close, As the sunflower turns to her god when
he sets The same look which she turned when he rose.