And thou! If thou would'st truly feast thy soul
Upon the things invisible of Him
Who made the visible, fear not to tread
The awful heights of Thought! not to thyself
Sole trusting, lest thou perish in thy pride;
But following where Faith enlightened leads,
Thou shalt not miss or fall. The way is rough,
But never toil did win reward so rich
As that she findeth here. At every step
New prospects open, and new wonders shine!
Mount higher still, and whatsoe'er thy pains,
Thou'lt envy not the sleeper at thy feet!
Visions of truth and beauty shall arise
So multiplied, so glorified, so vast,
That thy enraptured soul amazed shall cry,
"No longer Earth, but the new Heavens I see
Lighted forever by the throne of God."
II.
FABLE.
A widow, feeble, old and lonely,
Whose flock once numbered many a score,
Had now remaining to her only
One little lamb, and nothing more.
And every morning forced to send it
To scanty pastures far away,
With prayers and tears did she commend it
To the good saint that named the day.
Nor so in vain; each kindly patron,
George, Agnes, Nicolas, Genevieve,
Still mindful of the helpless matron,
Brought home her lambkin safe at eve.
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