Our life is long. Not so, wise Angels say Who watch us waste it, trembling while they weigh Against eternity one squandered day. Our life is long. Not so, the Saints protest, Filled full of consolation and of rest: "Short ill, long good, one long unending best." Our life is long. Christ's word sounds different: "Night cometh: no more work when day is spent. Repent and work today, work and repent." Lord, make us like Thy Host who day nor night Rest not from adoration, their delight, Crying "Holy, Holy, Holy," in the height. Lord, make us like Thy Saints who wait and long Contented: bound in hope and freed from wrong They speed (may be) their vigil with a song. Lord, make us like Thyself: for thirty-three Slow years of toil seemed not too long to Thee, That where Thou art, there Thy Beloved might be. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WENDELL PHILLIPS by AMOS BRONSON ALCOTT SOMETHING BEYOND by MARY CLEMMER AMES HUDSON THE CUMBERLAND by HERMAN MELVILLE TO FOREIGN LANDS by WALT WHITMAN THE JEW'S GIFT; A.D. 1200 by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH PROLOGUE TO THE PLAY OF HENRY THE EIGHTH by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD LOVE'S PHANTOM by MATHILDE BLIND |