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126 SARAH JOSEPHA HALE. Stern Prometheus, bound and bleeding, Imaged man in mental chain, While the vultures, on him feeding, Were the passions' vengeful reign; Still a ray of mercy tarried On the cloud, a white-winged dove, For this mystic faith had married Vulcan to the Queen of love! Rugged strength and radiant beauty— These were one in nature's plan; Humble toil and heavenward duty— These will form the perfect man! Darkly was this doctrine taught us By the gods of heathendom; But the living light was brought us, When the gospel morn had come! How the glorious change, expected, Could be wrought, was then made free; Of the earthly, when perfected, Rugged Iron forms the key! "Truth from out the earth shall flourish," This the word of God makes known,— Thence are harvests men to nourish— There let Iron's power be shown. Of the swords, from slaughter gory, Ploughshares forge to break the soil;— Then will Mind attain its glory, Then will Labour reap the spoil,— Error cease the soul to wilder, Crime be check'd by simple good, As the little coral builder Forces back the furious flood. While our faith in good grows stronger, Means of greater good increase; SARAH JOSEPHA HALE. 127 Iron, slave of war no longer, Leads the onward march of peace; Still new modes of service finding, Ocean, earth, and air it moves, And the distant nations binding, Like the kindred tie it proves; With its Atlas-shoulder sharing Loads of human toil and care; On its wing of lightning bearing Thought's swift mission through the air! As the rivers, farthest flowing, In the highest hills have birth; As the banyan, broadest growing, Oftenest bows its head to earth,— So the noblest minds press onward, Channels far of good to trace; So the largest hearts bend downward, Circling all the human race; Thus, by Iron's aid, pursuing Through the earth their plans of love, Men our Father's will are doing, Here, as angels do above. THE CHASE OF PLEASURE. We all are children in our strife to seize Each petty pleasure, as it lures the sight: And like the tall tree, swaying in the breeze, Our lofty wishes stoop their towering flight, Till, when the aim is won, it seems no more Than gather'd shell from ocean's countless store. Or, like the boy, whose eager hand is raised To seize the shining fly that folds its wings, We grasp the pleasure, and then stand amazed To find how small the real good it brings!
Transcription Notes:
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Reopened for Editing 2023-06-28 12:39:35
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Reopened for Editing 2023-06-28 15:56:30