O, ye who sit and gaze on life With folded hands and fettered will, Who only see, amid the strife, The dark supremacy of ill,-- Know, that like birds, and streams, and flowers, The life that moves you is divine! Nor time, nor space, nor human powers, Your Godlike spirit can confine. Once, in a form of human mould, Upon this earthly plane I trod; My faith was weak, my heart was cold,-- I had no hope, I knew not God. Deep from my being’s cup I quaffed, With Life’s Elixir brimming o’er, And madly sought to drain the draught, That I might die, to live no more! There came an angel to my side-- Not from the bowers of Paradise-- She was mine own, mine earthly bride, With Heaven’s pure sunshine in her eyes. She wept and prayed, she knew not why-- Her Faith, not Reason, soared above: She talked of God and Heaven--and I-- Well--I was happy in _her_ love. Love was my all, my guiding star, And like a wanderer in the night, I hailed its radiance from afar, Because it shone with _certain_ light; But all those visions, bright and high, Which the pure-hearted only see, Of God and Immortality, Could not reveal their light to me. At length my precious one, my wife, Held on her bosom’s sacred shrine A tender form,--an infant life,-- The union of her soul and mine. O God! above that precious child First did I breathe thy holy name, While strong emotions, deep and wild, Shook like a reed my manly frame. I prayed for Heaven’s eternal years; I prayed for light, that I might see; And even with stern manhood’s tears, I prayed for faith, O God, in Thee. O, this poor world seemed far too small To hold the measure of my love! They were my God, my Heaven, my All-- My precious wife, my nestling dove. Ay, then there came a fearful day, A day of sorrow and of pain, When, like a helpless child, I lay, And fever burned in every vein. Weeks came and went, they went and came, Till Faith was Fear, and Hope had died, And I could only breathe the name Of the lone watcher at my side. With patient love that could not fail, And anxious care that knew no rest, She sat, like a Madonna, pale, With our sweet infant on her breast. For _them_ I beat Life’s stormy wave, And struggled, face to face, with death; For _them_ I tarried from the grave, And firmly held my mortal breath. But faint and weak at length I lay, While darkness gathered over all-- I felt my pulses fluttering play Like Autumn leaves about to fall. My poor, tired heart could do no more, But yielded the unequal strife; Ay, then I prayed, as ne’er before, That I might have Eternal Life.