On earth as in heaven.—The Lord’s Prayer. O ON earth we take but feeble hold; Joy is not confident or bold; We dare not strike deep roots and stay, Nor trust to-morrow or to-day. We scatter grain beneath frail skies, And note its shoot and watch its rise, And do not know or guess a whit What other hands shall garner it. We raise our songs, but fast and soon Our voices unto silence die, And other voices end the tune Which, too, shall falter presently. “Forever” is our idle oath; But while the word is on our lip Night falls, and past and future both Out of our hold and keeping slip. Lest love should fail us or betray; And life goes on and we go hence, Nor never know continuance. In heaven is safety and sure peace; There is no waning nor decrease. The endless ages ebb and flow, The endless harvests riper grow; Fast in the rich eternal mould The heart’s deep roots take hold, take hold With the strong joy of permanence, Never to be transplanted thence. Sweet songs are sung to very close, Sweet closes recommence and blend; And still as rose-bud answers rose The new strains grow, the old strains end. Forever means forever there; New joy past sorrow reconciles, And hung in clear and golden air An undeceiving morrow smiles. While Love the law and Love the sun Blesses and warms and saves each one; And God’s dear will, our earthly prayer, Is made quite plain and perfect there. |