It gave new strength, and fearless mood; And gladiators, fierce and rude, Mingled it in their daily food; And he who battled and subdued, Then in Life's goblet freely press, The leaves that give it bitterness, New light and strength they give! And he who has not learned to know He has not learned to live. The prayer of Ajax was for light; Through all that dark and desperate fight, The blackness of that noonday night, He asked but the return of sight, To see his foeman's face. Let our unceasing, earnest prayer That crushes into dumb despair One half the human race. O suffering, sad humanity! O ye afflicted ones, who lie Steeped to the lips in misery, Longing, and yet afraid to die, Patient, though sorely tried! I pledge you in this cup of grief, Where floats the fennel's bitter leaf! The Battle of our Life is brief, The alarm, the struggle, the relief, —— Then sleep we side by side. MAIDENHOOD. MAIDEN! with the meek, brown eyes, In whose orbs a shadow lies Thou whose locks outshine the sun, Standing, with reluctant feet, Gazing, with a timid glance, Deep and still, that gliding stream Beautiful to thee must seem, As the river of a dream. Then why pause with indecision, When bright angels in thy vision Seest thou shadows sailing by, Hearest thou voices on the shore, That our ears perceive no more, Deafened by the cataract's roar? |