UPON the river’s brink I stand
Beside the rushing water’s flow,
And look from off the shore I know,
The safe and dear familiar land,
Unto another shore, which lies
Mist-veiled beneath the crimsoning skies.
This is a shore, and that a shore.
Does the earth cease, to rise once more
Beyond the river’s span?
Ah no! the shores are clasped in one;
The same firm earth goes on, goes on,
Though hidden for a little space
From eye or tread of man.
Upon another shore we stand
Beside a darker water’s flow,
And catch beyond the earth we know
Faint glimpses of another land
Dreaming in sunshine, half descried
Beyond the rushing river-tide.
It is life here, and life is there:
We look from fair things to most fair,
The river rolls between;
But held and bound and clasped in one,
Immortal life goes on, goes on,
Though only from the farther strand
The union can be seen.
“ARISE, SHINE, FOR THY LIGHT HAS COME.”
LONG time in sloth, long time in sin,
Contented with thy dark estate
Hast thou abode, O soul of mine;
Now dawns the morning, fair though late,
Her sunny tides are sweeping in.
Thy light has come; arise and shine!
The sheathèd bud which all night long
Has folded close its purple up
Upon the morning-glory vine;
At the first rose-flush, the first song,
Unrolls its petals, rears its cup,
And, light being come, makes haste to shine.
It cannot clasp the whole bright day,
Nor the wide-brimming sea of dew
Within its curve exact and fine.
Of countless beams a single ray,
One little freshening sip or two,
It takes, and so is glad to shine.
Make ready likewise, O my soul!
God’s blessed day has dawned; partake!
Anoint thy head with oil and wine;
From the great sum, the mighty whole,
Thy little crumb and portion break,
And, giving thanks, arise and shine!