The end we know not; but we wander on,
Down the regretful wilderness of time.
The artist labors while he may, But finds at best too brief the day; And, tho' his works outlast the time And nation that they make sublime, He feels and sees that Nature knows Nothing of time in what she does, But has a leisure infinite Wherein to do her work aright.
What do we plant when we plant the tree? We plant the ship that will cross the sea, we plant the mast to carry the sails, we plant the planks to withstand the gales--the keel, the keelson, and beam and knee--we plant the ship when we plant the tree.
And once I knew a meditative rose That never raised its head from bowing down, Yet drew its inspiration from the stars. It bloomed and faded here beside the road, And, being a poet, wrote on empty air With fragrance all the beauty of its soul.
Our yesterdays Are like a lonely and a ruined land Wherein a breeze of recollection sighs-- A fading land to which is no return.
Love is the key-note of the universe-- The theme, the melody.
Life is the wave's deep whisper on the shore Of a great sea beyond.
Though Duty's face is stern, her path is best: They sweetly sleep who die upon her breast.
Behold the grapes and all the fruits that Autumn gives today, As robed in red and gold, she rules, the Empress of Decay!
What do we plant when we plant a tree?
A thousand things that we daily see,
We plant the spire that out-towers the crag,
We plant the staff for our country's flag;
We plant the shade from the hot sun free,
We plant all these when we plant the tree.
All governments, Books, customs, buildings, railways, ships, and all the stark realities that men have made, Are but imagination's utterances.
The noblest works of human art and pride show that their makers were not satisfied.
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