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Above the stir and tumult of the street:
H. IV. Longfellow
Shalt stand before the host of Heaven confess'd,
THE LAST TRUMP
As grew the power of sacred lays
The spheres began to move,
To all the bless'd above:
"And Jesus said unto them, There shall not be left
here one stone upon another. . . Heaven and earth
shall pass away."
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
Who has this Book and reads it not
Doth God Himself despise; Who reads, but understandeth not,
His soul in darkness lies.
Who understands, but savours not,
He finds no rest in trouble; Who savours but obeyeth not,
He hath his judgment double.
Who reads this book—who understands—
Doth savour and obey— His soul shall stand at God's right hand,
In the great Judgment Day.
Give me my scallop shell of quiet,
Sir Walter Raleigh
How happy is he born and taught.
That serveth not another's will; Whose armour is his honest thought,
And simple truth his utmost skill;
Whose passions not his masters are,
Untied unto the worldly care
Who envies none that chance doth raise,
Or vice; who never understood
Nor rules of state, but rules of good;
Who hath his life from rumours freed,
Whose state can neither flatterers feed,
Who God doth late and early pray,
And entertains the harmless day,
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.
Sir Henry Wotton
xciv THE GOOD LIFE—LONG LIFE.
It is not growing like a tree In bulk doth make men better be; Or standing long an "oak three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere; A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night, It was the plant and flower of light. In small proportions we just beauties see, And in short measures life may perfect be.