What is a pound? Hard question,—and, besides, However well-beloved, that death had dealt with! While the festival folk are together, Not markets, nor mills, nor the weather; When none are supposed to be sad, Why all should be thankfully glad; The people will cheerfully cheer it,— Suppose then a fortune! and, marry, You'll not have to guard it, or carry; Alas! by the gain they are losers; Thank God for the fluid we drink of; To life 't is as light to the day; Yet no thought is wanted to summon As free, unto faith, saving glory;— And life be redeemed from its fears! As free as the glow of the day; As free as the air of the mountain, And needed as truly as they. THE DREAMLAND CHILD. UNTO perfection who can find Him out, The Father of the spirits of all flesh ? But who should therefore enter into trouble? The child contented in its father's arms, Has no uneasy doubts, no darksome fears, Nor cares to call its own. It is at rest; And, by its air of cheerful confidence, Its happy smile, and merry notes of joy,Although it cannot yet reach up to words,— Says, notwithstanding, that it is at home, And has the right to be there, and be glad. What! doubt its father? No, nor comprehend; Still not the lily of the field could be, From sad concern, or weary care, more free. Why should a Christian not be thus content? Was unto loving father? And can he Have better satisfaction than the truth On the shore of the sea, while the waters Was a child-one of dream's fairest daughters— And a sage, far in years, who had ponder'd, He had wrestled with reason to show him He had not said "I labour in vain now, Yet his spirit droop'd under depression, POEMS, TALES, AND SONGS. So he came to the sea where the waters In majesty rolled to the land, 185 And the child—one of dream's fairest daughters— Was scooping a hole in the sand. "In this hole let me now put the ocean!" The little one said, and so tried! "Foolish child! what a misinformed notion!" The sage, in his dreaming, replied. "Man of pride! if this place of my making He awoke, when thus answer'd, no longer He grew from the words of the child. |