A The Happy Heart THE HAPPY HEART Thomas Dekker RT thou poor, yet hast thou golden slumbers? Art thou rich, yet is thy mind perplexed? Dost thou laugh to see how fools are vexed Honest labor bears a lovely face; Then hey nonny nonny, hey nonny nonny! Canst drink the waters of the crispèd spring? Swimm'st thou in wealth, yet sink'st in thine own tears? O punishment! Then he that patiently want's burden bears, O sweet content! O sweet, O sweet content! Work apace, apace, apace, apace; Honest labor bears a lovely face; Then hey nonny nonny, hey nonny nonny! S CROSSING THE BAR Alfred, Lord Tennyson UNSET and evening star And one clear call for me! And may there be no moaning of the bar But such a tide as moving seems asleep, Too full for sound and foam, When that which drew from out the boundless deep Turns again home. Twilight and evening bell, And after that the dark! And may there be no sadness of farewell When I embark; For tho' from out our bourne of Time and Place The flood may bear me far, I hope to see my Pilot face to face When I have crossed the bar. The Shepherd Boy Sings THE SHEPHERD BOY SINGS IN THE VALLEY OF HUMILIATION H John Bunyan E that is down needs fear no fall, He that is humble ever shall Have God to be his guide. I am content with what I have, Little it be or much: And, Lord, contentment still I crave, Fullness to such a burden is That go on pilgrimage: Here little, and hereafter bliss, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, Thy figure floats along. Seek'st thou the plashy brink Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, Or where the rocking billows rise and sink On the chafed ocean side? There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast— The desert and illimitable air Lone wandering, but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near. To a Waterfowl And soon that toil shall end; Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest, And scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend, Thou'rt gone! the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form; yet on my heart Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given, And shall not soon depart: He who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone |