Poems with Power to Strengthen the Soul. Various

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СКАЧАТЬ waiting Justice sleeps.

      —Josiah Gilbert Holland.

      ———

      TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE

      By thine own soul's law learn to live,

      And if men thwart thee take no heed;

      And if men hate thee have no care;

      Sing thou thy song, and do thy deed;

      Hope thou thy hope, and pray thy prayer,

      And claim no crown they will not give,

      Nor bays they grudge thee for thy hair.

      Keep thou thy soul-won, steadfast oath,

      And to thy heart be true thy heart;

      What thy soul teaches learn to know,

      And play out thine appointed part,

      And thou shalt reap as thou shalt sow,

      Nor helped nor hardened in thy growth,

      To thy full stature thou shalt grow.

      Fix on the future's goal thy face,

      And let thy feet be lured to stray

      Nowhither, but be swift to run,

      And nowhere tarry by the way,

      Until at last the end is won,

      And thou mayst look back from thy place

      And see thy long day's journey done.

      —Pakenham Beatty.

      ———

      LORD OF HIMSELF

      How happy is he born and taught

      That serveth not another's will;

      Whose armor is his honest thought,

      And simple truth his utmost skill.

      Whose passions not his masters are,

      Whose soul is still prepared for death;

      Not tied unto the world with care

      Of public fame or private breath.

      Who envies none that chance doth raise,

      Or vice; who never understood

      How deepest wounds are given by praise,

      Nor rules of state but rules of good.

      Who hath his life from rumors freed,

      Whose conscience is his strong retreat;

      Whose state can neither flatterers feed,

      Nor ruin make accusers great.

      Who God doth late and early pray

      More of his grace than gifts to lend;

      And entertains the harmless day

      With a well-chosen book or friend.

      This man is freed from servile bands,

      Of hope to rise or fear to fall;

      Lord of himself, though not of lands,

      And having nothing, yet hath all.

      —Henry Wotton.

      ———

      High above hate I dwell;

      O storms, farewell!

      

      ———

      UNCONQUERED

      Out of the night that covers me,

      Black as the pit from pole to pole,

      I thank whatever gods may be

      For my unconquerable soul.

      Beyond this place of wrath and tears

      Looms but the horror of the shade,

      And yet the menace of the years

      Finds and shall find me unafraid.

      In the fell clutch of circumstance

      I have not winced nor cried aloud;

      Under the bludgeonings of chance

      My head is bloody, but unbowed.

      It matters not how strait the gate,

      How charged with punishments the scroll;

      I am the master of my fate,

      I am the captain of my soul.

      —William Ernest Henley.

      ———

      RELIGION AND DOCTRINE

      He stood before the Sanhedrim:

      The scowling rabbis gazed at him.

      He recked not of their praise or blame;

      There was no fear, there was no shame,

      For one upon whose dazzled eyes

      The whole world poured its vast surprise.

      The open heaven was far too near

      His first day's light too sweet and clear,

      To let him waste his new-gained ken

      On the hate-clouded face of men.

      But still they questioned, Who art thou?

      What hast thou been? What art thou now?

      Thou art not he who yesterday

      Sat here and begged beside the way,

      For he was blind.

      "And СКАЧАТЬ