the seven chords of the lyre.
97
Can summer suns, or gentle moons alloy
The immemorial woe to which art vowed,
O cypress-tree? Yet dost thou sternly bear
Thy mournful doom, and with a brave despair
Droop'st not, albeit no smiles of vernal spring
To thy funereal crown new light can bring,
Lo! these bear up 'gainst Fate a steadfast war;
Am I less noble than the tree or star?
The immemorial woe to which art vowed,
O cypress-tree? Yet dost thou sternly bear
Thy mournful doom, and with a brave despair
Droop'st not, albeit no smiles of vernal spring
To thy funereal crown new light can bring,
Lo! these bear up 'gainst Fate a steadfast war;
Am I less noble than the tree or star?
NO. VII.—FAITH.
Yet more, life's music holdeth more than these,
Endurance and submission, more, far more;
There is a golden chord whose harmonies
Have deeper echoes; strike that chord and soar
Through faith o'er sorrow; we may struggle yet,
And with grief's armèd angel we may strive,
But faith shall win the blessing He can give;
Our lips will smile, although our eyes are wet,
Till we life's earnest mystery have solved;
And then, weak heart, that in thy joy sought death,
Now that the varied circle has revolved,
Know that the soul which breathes immortal breath,
Stronger than joy, stronger than grief, must be,
And trample both, to reach, O God to Thee!
Endurance and submission, more, far more;
There is a golden chord whose harmonies
Have deeper echoes; strike that chord and soar
Through faith o'er sorrow; we may struggle yet,
And with grief's armèd angel we may strive,
But faith shall win the blessing He can give;
Our lips will smile, although our eyes are wet,
Till we life's earnest mystery have solved;
And then, weak heart, that in thy joy sought death,
Now that the varied circle has revolved,
Know that the soul which breathes immortal breath,
Stronger than joy, stronger than grief, must be,
And trample both, to reach, O God to Thee!
