Questions & Answers
The waves and the rocks in fierce combat meet ever, (So sang a pink sea-shell to me). And which shall be victor, they tell us, oh never,— Bold cliff, or tempestuous sea.
'Tober, ripe and mellow, Well-met, jovial fellow! Though your leaves turn yellow, Brown us old Othello,— And your tempest bellow, Like some deep-toned 'cello, We their fury quell, oh, And your harvest smell, oh. Though your squirrel hello, As he cracks yon shell, oh,— Squeak like Punchinello,— And your sighs up-swell, oh, Like some lost Costello, You must ever tell, oh, Of a goodly spell, oh, Hidden in your cell, oh.
Oh let the dear children come to me, For of such my kingdom is made. The pure and the sweet and the trustful! Let never a frown throw a shade Of doubt or darkness in their way; — 'T is theirs to blossom in Good's day.
From his lips Truth limpid, without error, flowed. Disease Fled from his touch.
"What can be more lovely?" Said Mother to Ned; And held up before him, So rosy and red, A dish of tomatoes, Rich, juicy, and bright. "Say, are they not pretty, Thus gleaming in light?" "Oh yes," said our Neddy, With something of brag, "One thing is more handsome,— The American flag!" Well said, my brave youngster.
Scattering seed by the wayside, The germs of Truth I'll sow, Knowing there 's none beside Him, Who can the Word o'erthrow. For the glory we hope to win, Our labor we count no loss,— Never pause and murmur because Of the river we have to cross.
What is Truth? said jesting Pilate, Waiting not for a reply; What is Truth? the laboring Helot Asks, while he his task doth fly. Not in meanness, can they bind it, Bondman low or noble Prince; But in God's right hand they find it, As His power they evince.
In Thee, oh Spirit, true and tender, I find my Life, as God's own child; Within Thy Light, of glorious splendor, I lose the earth-clouds, drear and wild. In Thee I have no pain or sorrow, No anxious thought, no load of care.
September again, with its gloss and its glory, Awaking the senses to fruitage divine. How oft shall we list to its wonderful story, Ere drinking the draft of its Truth-giving wine?
There's a wideness in this Science, Like the wideness of the sea. There is room in its blest harbor, Room for you and room for me.