Classic Poem

Much have we to support us in our strife
With things which else would crush us, nor
Secret refreshings of the inward life,
But many a flower of sweetest scent is strown
Upon our outward and our open way;
None sweeter than are at some seasons known
To them who dwell for many a prosperous day
Under one roof, and have, as they would hope,
One purpose for their lives, one aim, one scope —
To labor upward on the path to heaven
Full of refreshment these occasions are,
Like seasonable resting places given
To pilgrim feet; for though, alas! too rare,
Yet the sweet memories they supply, will give
The food on which affection's heart may live
In after times; since it were sad indeed
If all more intimate knowledge did not breed
More trust in one another and more love,
More faith that each is seeking to attain
With humble, earnest effort, not in vain,
The happy rest of God. And so they part
On their divided ways with cheerful heart,
Knowing that in all places they will call
On the same God and Father over all;
And part not wholly, since they meet whose prayer
Meets at the throne of Heaven; one life divine
Through all the branches of the mystical vine
Flows ever, even as the same breath of air
Lifts every leaflet of a mighty grove
And from our meeting we shall reap a share
Of a yet higher good, if we have won
Hereby the strengthening of one weak desire,
The running of one faint spark to a fire,
The stirring of one prayer that we may prove
Steadfast and faithful till our work be done,
Until the course appointed us be run.

We know not whither our frail barks are borne,
To quiet haven, or on stormy shore;
Nor need we seek to know it, while above
The tempest and the waters' angriest roar
Are heard the voices of almighty love —
So we shall find none dreary nor forlorn.
Whither we go we know not, but we know
That if we keep our faces surely set
Toward new Zion, we shall reach at last,
When every danger, every wo is past,
The city where the sealed tribes are met,
Whither the nations of the saved flow —
The city with its heaven-descended halls,
The city builded round with diamond walls.

Then how should we feel sorrow or dim fear
At any parting now, if there to meet?
How should our hearts with sadder pulses beat,
When thou art going where kind hearts will greet
And welcome thy return, and there as here
Thou still wilt find thine own appointed sphere,
To fill the measure up of gentle deeds —
Even as we have learned that in these,
That in the holy Christian charities,
And the suppliance of the lowliest needs
Of the most lowly, our true greatness is!

Therefore we will not seek to win thy stay,
Nor ask but this — that thou shouldst bear away
Kind memories of us, and only claim
What of thyself thou wilt be prompt to give,
That in thy heart's affections he may live,
To whom thou bearest that most holy name
Of spiritual mother. O beloved friend,
It is a cheering thought, if I should be
Where I can no more watch for him nor tend
His infant years — there where I can not see
What good, what evil wait upon his way —
That yet thy love, thy counsel, and thy cares,
He will not lack, a child of faithful prayers.