84. Declension
|
{146}
WHEN I am sad, I say, |
| "What boots it me to strive, |
| And vex my spirit day by day, |
| Dead memories to revive? |
"Alas! what good will come, |
| Though we our prayer obtain, |
| To bring old times triumphant home, |
| And wandering flocks regain? |
"Would not our history run |
| In the same weary round, |
| And service in meek faith begun, |
| At length in forms be bound? |
"Union would give us strength— |
| That strength the earth subdue. |
| And then comes wealth, and pride at length, |
| And sloth, and prayers untrue." {147} |
Nay, this is worldly-wise; |
| To reason is a crime, |
| Since the Lord bade His Church arise, |
| In the dark ancient time. |
He wills that she should shine; |
| So we her flame must trim |
| Around His soul-converting Sign, |
| And leave the rest to Him. |
Palermo.
June 6, 1833. |