A COMPARISON.
63
Lot down from Heaven by angels' hands; yet there
Stand forth, 'mid all that fulness, gaunt and bare
Like matted cordage, withered coils that fruit,
Or flower, or leaf, bear never, for the root
From whence they drew earth's kindly juice is gone;
And these are hopes that die, yet still cling on!
Stand forth, 'mid all that fulness, gaunt and bare
Like matted cordage, withered coils that fruit,
Or flower, or leaf, bear never, for the root
From whence they drew earth's kindly juice is gone;
And these are hopes that die, yet still cling on!
