Page:The Poems and Prose remains of Arthur Hugh Clough, volume 2 (1869).djvu/92

 This cruel conflict for pre-eminence, This keen supplanting of the dearest kin, Quick seizure and fast unrelaxing hold Of vantage-place; the stony hard resolve, The chase, the competition, and the craft Which seems to be the poison of our life, And yet is the condition of our life! To have done things on which the eye with shame Looks back, the closed hand clutching still the prize!— Alas! what of all these things shall I say? Take me away unto Thy sleep, O God! I thank thee it is over, yet I think It was a work appointed me of Thee. How is it? I have striven all my days To do my duty, to my house and hearth, And to the purpose of my father's race, Yet is my heart therewith not satisfied.

are the words of Jacob's wives, the words Which Leah spake and Rachel to his ears, When, in the shade at eventide, he sat By the tent door, a palm-tree overhead, A spring beside him, and the sheep around.

And Rachel spake and said, The nightfall comes— Night, which all day I wait for, and for thee.

And Leah also spake, The day is done; My lord with toil is weary and would rest.

And Rachel said, Come, O my Jacob, come; And we will think we sit beside the well,