The ladder 's not all of sunshine,
Whereon thou must climb so high.
Earth's shadows and griefs have darkened,
Earth's mists have dimmed its light,
But rays from the sunshine of heaven
Each upward step make bright.
Sometimes the glory paleth,
And its brightness disappears;
'Tis only thine eye that faileth,
Or is dimmed by thine earthborn tears.
Onward! our cry for ever,
Until the goal is won,
In the glory fading never
Of the light-enshrouded sun.
"Never hasting, never resting."
EVER hasting, never resting,
With a firm and joyous heart,
Ever onward slowly tending,
Acting, aye, a brave man's part.
With a high and holy purpose,
Doing all thou hast to do;
Seeking ever man's up-raising,
With the highest end in view.
Undepressed by seeming failure,
Unelated by success;
Heights attained revealing higher,
Onward, upward, ever press.
Slowly moves the march of ages,
Slowly grows the forest king,
Slowly to perfection cometh
Every great and glorious thing.
Broadest streams from narrowest sources,
Noblest trees from meanest seeds, Mighty ends from small beginnings,
From lowly promise, lofty deeds.
Acorns which the winds have scattered,
Future navies may provide;
Thoughts at midnight whisper'd lowly,
Prove a people's future guide.
Such the law enforced by nature
Since the earth her course began;
Such to thee she teacheth daily,
Eager, ardent, restless man.
"Never hasting, never resting,"
Glad in peace, and calm in strife;
Quietly thyself preparing
To perform thy part in life.
Earnest, hopeful, and unswerving,
Weary though thou art, and faint,
Ne'er despair, there's One above thee,
Listing ever to thy plaint.
Stumbleth he who runneth fast,
Dieth he who standeth still;
Not by haste nor rest can ever
Man his destiny fulfil.
"Never hasting, never resting,'
Legend fine, and quaint, and olden,
In our thinking, in our acting,
Should be writ in letters golden.
OAST thou not seen at break of day,
One only star the east adorning,
That never set, or paled its ray,
But seemed to sink at once away
Into the light of morning?
From it, the sage no portent drew,
It came to light no meteor fires,
But silver shone the whole night through
On hawthorn hedges steeped in dew,
And quiet village spires.
Like him of old who dwelt beneath
The tents of patriarchal story,
Who passed, without the touch of death,
Without dim eye or failing breath,
At once into God's glory-
The Patriarch of one simple spot,
The sire of sons, and daughters lowly, And this the record of his lot,
"He walked with God and he was not,"
For the Lord took him wholly.
Like a child's voice in sacred song,
That trembling rises high and higher,
Till, lost at last, it peals along,
Swelling the anthem sweet and strong
Of great cathedral choir :-
So year by year, and day by day
In pastoral care, and household duty, He walked with God—nor knew decay, But faded gently, rapt away,
Into His glorious beauty.
There's many a household fair to see,
By woodland nook, or running river,
Where children climb the parent's knee-
Oh, that those homes like his might be
Filled with God's presence ever!
Oh, that our thoughts so heavenly were,
Our hearts to Christ so fully given,
That all our loves, and toils, and care,
Might only lead us nearer there,
Where He is set in heaven.
HEY came, they went; of pleasures passed away,
How often this is all that we can say!
They came, like dew-drops in the morning hour,
They went, like dew-drops 'neath the noontide's
Came like the cistus with its purple eye,
Went like the cistus blooming but to die;
Unheeded in their flight they glided past,
We sighed not, for we knew not 'twas the last!
There's no last time in heaven! the angels pour
A still new song, though chanted evermore,
There's no night following on their daylight hours,
No fading time for amaranthine flowers;
No change, no death, no harp that lies unstrung,
No vacant place those hallowed hills among!
OTHING see we here in full perfection,
Nothing reaching yet its true ideal;
Lost unto our sight is that connection,
Which knitted once the perfect to the real.
Each form of loveliness, each fair creation,
Hath yet a type more true and brighter far,
And we must trace in all the dim relation,
And what they might be, learn from what they are.
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