Till we stand, counting pleasant paths, Forgetting we have been storm-driven,And, lingering in thy parting smile, Step from thy arms to God and Heaven.
CHASING A SHADOW
Chasing a shadow, chasing a shadow, Thro' the winter's storm, and the summer's heat,Over the hill, the woodland, the meadow,— On, ever on, with unwearying feet.Flowers entice him, and green trees invite him, Murmuring waters allure him to rest;Offering in vain all their joys to delight him, He chaseth the shadow far on to the west.
Chasing the Phantom, the years roll above him, From childhood to boyhood, to manhood, he speeds;—Yet gathering near him no fond hearts to love him, Trampling flowers beneath him where God sowed seeds;Shutting out from his heart all the human distresses That fill the world-air with a pitiful cry,—His name no poor heart in its gratitude blesses, Tho' Fame shouts it loudly afar thro' the sky.
Chasing a shadow tho' daylight is dying, And phantoms are gathering thickly and fast;In the cold nipping wind his gray hair is flying, His weary limbs shake:—shall he miss it at last?—
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