

NOT TO MYSELF ALONE, 
“Not to myself alone,” 
The circling star with honest pride— 
“ Not to myself alone I rise and set; 
I write upon night’s coronal of jet 
His power and skill who formed our myriad host 
A friendly beacon at heaven's open gate, 
I gem the sky, 
That man might ne’er forget, in every fate, 
His home on high.” 
“ Not to myself alone,” 
The heavy-laden bee doth murmuring hum— 
“ Not to myself alone from flower to flower 
I rove the wood, the garden and the bower, 
And to the hive at evening weary come: 
For man, for man the luscious food I pile 
With busy care, 
Content if this repay my ceaseless toil— 
A scanty share.” 
“ Not to myself alone,” 
The soaring bird with lusty pinion sings— 
“Not to myself alone I raise the song ; 
I cheer the drooping with my warbling tongue ; 
And bear the mourner on my viewless wings; 
I bid the hymnless churl my anthem learn, 
And God adore ; 
I call the worldling from his dross to turn, 
And sing and soar.” 
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