Page:Pocahontas and Other Poems (NY).pdf/207



"So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom."—.

break the limits of permitted thought To revel in Elysium? thou who bear'st Still the stern yoke of this unresting life, Its toils, its hazards, and its fears of change? Why hang thy frostwork wreath on Fancy's brow, When Labour warns thee to thy daily task, And Faith doth bid thee gird thyself to run A faithful journey to the gate of Heaven?

Up, 'tis no dreaming-time! awake! awake! For He who sits on the High Judge's seat Doth in his record note each wasted hour, Each idle word. Take heed thy shrinking soul Find not their weight too heavy when it stands At that dread bar from whence is no appeal. For while we trifle the light sand steals on, Leaving the hour-glass empty. So thy life Glideth away. Stamp wisdom on its hours.