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       Table of Contents

CONSTANCY, CONFIDENCE, STRENGTH, VALOR

       Table of Contents

      THE BATTLEFIELD

      Once this soft turf, this rivulet's sands,

      Were trampled by a hurrying crowd,

      And fiery hearts and armed hands

      Encountered in the battle cloud.

      Ah! never shall the land forget

      How gushed the life-blood of her brave—

      Gushed, warm with life and courage yet,

      Upon the soil they fought to save.

      Now all is calm and fresh and still,

      Alone the chirp of flitting bird,

      And talks of children on the hill,

      And bell of wandering kine are heard.

      No solemn host goes trailing by

      The black-mouthed gun and staggering wain;

      Men start not at the battle-cry;

      Oh, be it never heard again!

      Soon rested those who fought; but thou

      Who minglest in the harder strife

      For truths which men receive not now,

      Thy warfare only ends with life.

      A friendless warfare! lingering long

      Through weary day and weary year;

      A wild and many-weaponed throng

      Hang on thy front, and flank, and rear.

      Yet nerve thy spirit to the proof.

      And blench not at thy chosen lot;

      The timid good may stand aloof,

      The sage may frown—yet faint thou not.

      Nor heed the shaft too surely cast,

      The foul and hissing bolt of scorn;

      For with thy side shall dwell at last

      The victory of endurance born.

      Truth, crushed to earth, shall rise again;

      The eternal years of God are hers;

      But Error, wounded, writhes in pain,

      And dies among his worshipers.

      Yea, though thou lie upon the dust,

      When they who helped thee flee in fear,

      Die full of hope and manly trust,

      Like those who fell in battle here.

      Another hand thy sword shall wield,

      Another hand the standard wave,

      Till from the trumpet's mouth is pealed,

      The blast of triumph o'er thy grave.

      —William Cullen Bryant

      ———

      DARE YOU?

      Doubting Thomas and loving John,

      Behind the others walking on:

      "Tell me now, John, dare you be

      One of the minority?

      To be lonely in your thought,

      Never visited nor sought,

      Shunned with secret shrug, to go

      Through the world esteemed its foe;

      To be singled out and hissed,

      Pointed at as one unblessed,

      Warned against in whispers faint,

      Lest the children catch a taint;

      To bear off your titles well—

      Heretic and infidel?

      If you dare, come now with me,

      Fearless, confident and free."

      "Thomas, do you dare to be

      Of the great majority?

      To be only, as the rest,

      With Heaven's common comforts blessed;

      To accept, in humble part,

      Truth that shines on every heart;

      Never to be set on high,

      Where the envious curses fly;

      Never name or fame to find,

      Still outstripped in soul and mind;

      To be hid, unless to God,

      As one grass-blade in the sod;

      Underfoot with millions trod?

      If you dare, come with us, be

      Lost in love's great unity."

      —Edward Rowland Sill.

      ———

      SENSITIVENESS

      Time was I shrank from what was right,

      From fear of what was wrong;

      I would not brave the sacred fight

      Because the foe was strong.

      But now I cast that finer sense

      And sorer shame aside;

      Such dread of sin was indolence,

      Such aim at heaven was pride.

      So when my Saviour calls I rise,

      And calmly do my best;

      Leaving to Him, with silent eyes

      Of hope and fear, the rest.

      I step, I mount, where He has led;

      Men count my haltings o'er;

      I know them; yet, though self I dread,

      I love His precept more.

      —John Henry Newman.

      ———

      COURAGE

      Because I hold it sinful to despond,

      And will not let the bitterness of life

      Blind me with burning tears, but look beyond

      Its tumult and its strife;

      Because I lift my head above the mist,

      Where the sun shines and the broad breezes blow,

      By every ray and every raindrop kissed

      That God's love doth bestow;

      Think you I find no bitterness at all?

      No burden to be borne, like Christian's pack?

      Think you there are no ready tears to fall

      Because I keep them back?

      Why should I hug life's ills with cold reserve,

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