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Themes and Variations
COMPENSATION.
Fret not that in thy dwelling-place
The street is silent, the field is bare,
Nor canst thou sail to shining lands,
Nor sleep where tropic trees are fair;
For every night thy darkening window-bars
Are visited by the journeying host of stars.
The street is silent, the field is bare,
Nor canst thou sail to shining lands,
Nor sleep where tropic trees are fair;
For every night thy darkening window-bars
Are visited by the journeying host of stars.
Scorn not our nature’s narrow bound,
An atom blown abaut in vain,—
One thought contains this azure round
And circles o’er the circling plain;
Each trivial life that to the dust is lent,
Is garlanded by the unbounded firmament.
An atom blown abaut in vain,—
One thought contains this azure round
And circles o’er the circling plain;
Each trivial life that to the dust is lent,
Is garlanded by the unbounded firmament.
Mourn not our fading transient day;
For over us a light will shine,
A vision of eternity
That makes one little hour divine.
Through this dim window we look out of doors,
On purple hills and plains and ever happy shores.
For over us a light will shine,
A vision of eternity
That makes one little hour divine.
Through this dim window we look out of doors,
On purple hills and plains and ever happy shores.