The Gospel of Labor by Henry van Dyke

This is the Gospel of Labor –
Ring it, ye bells of the kirk –
The Lord of love came down from above
To live with the men who work.

This is the rose that he planted
Here in the thorn-cursed soil –
Heaven is blessed with perfect rest;
But the blessing of earth is toil.

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Nature Without Her Diadem by Emily Dickinson

The Sky is low – the Clouds are mean.
A Travelling Flake of Snow
Across a Barn or through a Rut
Debates if it will go –

A Narrow Wind complains all Day
How some one treated him
Nature, like Us is sometimes caught
Without her Diadem.

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Sardis by William Cowper

“Write to Sardis,” saith the Lord,
And write what he declares,
He whose Spirit and whose word,
Upholds the seven stars:
“All thy works and ways I search,
Find thy zeal and love decayed:
Thou art called a living church,
But thou art cold and dead.”

“Watch, remember, seek, and strive,
Exert thy former pains;
Let thy timely care revive,
And strengthen what remains:
Cleanse thine heart, thy works amend,
Former times to mind recall,
Lest my sudden stroke descend,
And smite thee once for all.” 

“Yet I remember now in thee
A few that are upright:
these my Father’s face shall see,
And walk with me in white,
When in judgment I appear,
They for mine shall be confessed;
Let my faithful servants hear;
And woe be to the rest!”

(Rev.3:1-6)

 

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I Went To Thank Her by Emily Dickinson

I went to thank Her –
But She Slept –
Her Bed – a funneled Stone –
With Nosegays at the Head and Foot –
That Travellers – had thrown –

Who went to thank Her –
But She Slept –
‘Twas Short – to cross the Sea –
To look upon Her like – alive –
But turning back – ’twas slow –

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Superiority To Fate by Emily Dickinson

Superiority to Fate
Is difficult to gain.
‘Tis not conferred of Any
But possible to earn 

A pittance at a time
Until to Her surprise
The Soul with strict economy
Subsist till Paradise.

 

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A Drop Fell On The Apple Tree by Emily Dickinson

A Drop fell on the Apple Tree –
Another – on the Roof –
A Half a Dozen kissed the Eaves –
And made the Gables laugh – 

A few went out to help the Brook
That went to help the Sea –
Myself Conjectured were they Pearls –
What Necklaces could be – 

The Dust replaced, in Hoisted Roads –
The Birds jocoser sung –
The Sunshine threw his Hat away –
The Bushes – spangles flung – 

The Breezes brought dejected Lutes –
And bathed them in the Glee –
Then Orient showed a single Flag,
And signed the Fete away –

 

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From Cocoon by Emily Dickinson

From Cocoon forth a Butterfly
As Lady from her Door
Emerged – a Summer Afternoon –
Repairing Everywhere-

Without Design – that I could trace
Except to stay abroad
On Miscellaneous Enterprise
The Clovers – understood –

Her pretty Parasol be seen
Contracting in a Field
Where Men made Hay –
The struggling hard
With an opposing Cloud –

Where Parties – Phantom as Herself –
To Nowhere – seemed to go
In purposeless Circumference –
As ’twere a Tropic Show –

And notwithstanding Bee – that worked –
And Flower – that zealous blew –
This Audience of Idleness
Disdained them, from the Sky –

Till Sundown crept – a steady Tide –
And Men that made the Hay –
And Afternoon – and Butterfly –
Extinguished – in the Sea –

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Kathleen Mavourneen by Louisa Macartney Crawford

Kathleen Mavourneen! the grey dawn is breaking,
The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill;
The lark from her light wing, the bright dew is shaking, –
Kathleen Mavourneen! what, slumbering still?
Oh, has thou forgotten how soon we must sever?
Oh, hast thou forgotten this day we must part?
It may be for years, and it may be for ever!
Oh, why art thou silent, thou voice of my heart?
Oh, why art thou silent, Kathleen Mavourneen? 

Kathleen Mavourneen, awake from thy slumbers!
The blue mountains glow in the sun’s golden light;
Ah, where is the spell that once hung on my numbers?
Arise in thy beauty, thou star of my night!
Mavourneen, Mavourneen, my sad tears are falling,
To think that from Erin and thee I must part!
It may be for years, and it may be for ever!
Then why art thou silent, thou voice of my heart?
Then why art thou silent, Kathleen Mavourneen?

 

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Proud To Die by Emily Dickinson

So proud she was to die
It made us all ashamed
That what we cherished, so unknown
To her desire seemed –
So satisfied to go
Where none of us should be
Immediately – that Anguish stooped
Almost to Jealousy –

 

 

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Cleopatra Dying by Thomas Stephens Collier

Sinks the sun below the desert,
Golden glows the sluggish Nile;
Purple flame crowns Spring and Temple,
Lights up every ancient pile
Where the old gods now are sleeping;
Isis and Osiris great,
Guard me, help me, give me courage
Like a Queen to meet my fate.

“I am dying, Egypt, dying,,”
Let the Caesar’s army come –
I will cheat him of his glory,
Though beyond the Styx I roam;
Shall he drag this beauty with him –
While the crowd his triumph sings?
No, no, never! I will show him
What lies in the blood of Kings.

Though he hold the golden scepter,
Rule the Pharaoh’s sunny land,
Where old Nilus rolls resistless
Through the sweeps of silvery sand –
He shall never say I met him
Fawning, abject, like a slave –
I will foil him, though to do it
I must cross the Stygian wave.

Oh, my hero, sleeping, sleeping –
Shall I meet you on the shore
Of Plutonian shadows? Shall we
In Death meet and love once more?
See, I follow in your footsteps-
Scorn the Caesar in his might;
For your love I will leap boldly
Into realms of death and night.

Down below the desert sinking,
Fades Apollo’s brilliant car;
And from out the distant azure
Breaks the bright gleam of a star.
Venus, Queen of Love and Beauty,
Welcomes me to death’s embrace,
Dying, free, proud, and triumphant,
The last sovereign of my race.

Dying, dying! I am coming,
Oh, my hero, to your arms;
You will welcome me, I know it –
Guard me from all rude alarms.
Hark! I hear the legions coming,
Hear the cries of triumph swell,
But, proud Caesar, dead I scorn you –
Egypt, Antony, farewell.

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