116 
« To walk with God, to be divinely free, 
To soar and to anticipate the skies,” — 
This is his blessed privilege; but he, 
Forgetful of his being’s aim and end, 
Gives to this fading world his hopes and fears, 
And bends to other gods besides the Lord 
His willing knee, Alas ! what idol shapes 
Do flit before him; pleasure, learning, power, 
Each wooingly assails him; or, if these 
Fail to allure, a softer snare is spread, 
And him, who, but for this, might haply soar 
To that “ bright heaven which woos him to its brink,” 
The gentle charities of life enthral, 
And like a bird in viewless meshes caught 
He feels the toils, but cannot break away. 
Oh, worse than madness, in the precious gift 
To lose the bounteous giver, and thus mar 
The “ only bliss which has survived the fall.” 
Ah, why not, rather, like th’ aerial flower, 
That meekly wise invites each friendly bough 
To aid its flight, communion seek with those 
Who, foremost, mightiest in the high career, 
Would joy “ to gird us for the race divine;” 
And, with the kind anxiety of love, 
Still urge our heavenward flight, until we share 
With them the light and bliss which centre there ? 
