Attempt > Volume 1 and Select writings

THE ATTEMPT
133
“ Tliou art a day of mirth ;
And where the week-days trail on ground,
Thy flight is higher, as thy birth ;
0 let me take thee at the bound,
Leaping with thee from seven to seven,
Till that we both, being toss’d from earth,
Fly hand in hand to heaven ! ”
DES EAUX.
(from the german of erummacher.)
In the caves profound of the human breast
Eeigns a silence dark and holy,
And over this holy thing enthroned,
Dwells a secret flame and lowly.
The little beam is silent and clear,
As a heavenly-radiant star;
The breast is its temple, its altar the heart,
Whence for ever it shines afar.
The evil darkness has sometimes power
To veil the flame’s bright beaming,
Yet not for long—in wonted form
Anew it soon is gleaming.
It lights the pilgrim’s darkened path;
O’er the thorny road of duty
It guides the humble struggling one
To the heights of radiant beauty.