October.
67
But unto man's diviner sense
The strenuous rest of penitence
Remaineth only for defence.
The strenuous rest of penitence
Remaineth only for defence.
His fruit drops slowly from his hands,
But only with the dropping sands
That fall on Time's slow-gathering strands.
But only with the dropping sands
That fall on Time's slow-gathering strands.
The sower in this mortal field
Shall reap no harvest's gracious yield,
The warrior conquers—on his shield.
Shall reap no harvest's gracious yield,
The warrior conquers—on his shield.
But after life and fruit and rest,
Thou, tree! by dust shalt be possessed;
To him remains a day more blest,
Thou, tree! by dust shalt be possessed;
To him remains a day more blest,
A newer hope, a summer-time
Renewed forever in its prime,
Where God, his harvest, sits sublime.
Renewed forever in its prime,
Where God, his harvest, sits sublime.
