THE SOLDIER. He was not armed like those of eastern clime, Whose pompous rites proclaim how vain their prayer; spare; But he nor steel nor sacred robe had on, THE TREES OF LIFE. For those who worship Thee there is no death, They bend them o'er the river's grassy brink THE SPIRIT. I WOULD not breathe, when blows thy mighty wind Their green waves sprinkled with a thousand eyes. THE PRESENCE. I SIT within my room, and joy to find But by thyself Thou keep'st me ever near; 10 THE DEAD. I SEE them, crowd on crowd they walk the earth Dry leafless trees to autumn wind laid bare; pear; Their hearts the living God have ceased to know Who gives the spring time to th' expectant year; They mimic life, as if from him to steal His glow of health to paint the livid cheek; They borrow words for thoughts they cannot feel, That with a seeming heart their tongue may speak; And in their show of life more dead they live Than those that to the earth with many tears they give. |