The Home Circle.
longing.
Of all the myriad moods of mind That through the soal come thronging, Which one was e’er so dear, so kind, So beautiful as longing ? The thing we long for, that we are For one transcendent moment, Before the present poor and bare Can make its sneering comment. Still through our paltry stir and strife Glows down the wished ideal, And longing moulds in clay what life Carves in marble Beal; To let the new life in, we know Desire must ope the portal; Perhaps the longing to be so Helps make the soul immortal. Longing is God’s fresh heavenward will With our poor earthward striving ; We quench it that we may be still Content with merely living; But should we learn the heart’s full scope Which we are hourly wronging, ■Our lives must climb from hope to hope And realise our longing.
Ah, let us hope that to our praise Good God not only reckons The moment when we tread His ways, & But when the spirit beckons — That some slight good is also wrought Beyond self-satisfaction, When we are simply good in thought, Howe’er we fail in action. James Bussell Lowell.
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Bibliographic details
Southern Cross, Volume 8, Issue 22, 1 September 1900, Page 10
Word Count
196The Home Circle. Southern Cross, Volume 8, Issue 22, 1 September 1900, Page 10
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