High hopes that burn'd like stars sublime,
Go down i' the heaven of freedom;
And true hearts perish in the time
We bitterliest need 'em!
But never sit we down and say
There's nothing left but sorrow;
We walk the wilderness to-day--
The promised land to-morrow!
Our birds of song are silent now,
Few are the flowers blooming,
Yet life is in the frozen bough,
And freedom's spring is coming;
And freedom's tide creeps up alway,
Though we may strand in sorrow;
And our good bark, aground to-day,
Shall float again to-morrow.
'Tis weary watching wave by wave,
And yet the Tide heaves onward;
We climb, like Corals, grave by grave,
That pave a pathway sunward;
We are driven back, for our next fray
A newer strength to borrow,
And where the Vanguard camps to-day
The Rear shall rest to-morrow!
Through all the long, dark night of years
The people's cry ascendeth,
And earth is wet with blood and tears:
But our meek sufferance endeth!
The few shall not for ever sway--
The many moil in sorrow;
The powers of hell are strong to-day,
The Christ shall rise to-morrow!
Though hearts brood o'er the past, our eyes
With smiling futures glisten!
For lo! our day bursts up the skies
Lean out your souls and listen!
The world is rolling freedom's way,
And ripening with her sorrow;
Take heart! who bear the Cross to-day,
Shall wear the Crown to-morrow!
O youth! flame-earnest, still aspire
With energies immortal!
To many a heaven of desire
Our yearning opes a portal;
And though age wearies by the way,
And hearts break in the furrow--
Youth sows the golden grain to-day--
The harvest comes to-morrow!
Build up heroic lives, and all
Be like a sheathen sabre,
Ready to flash out at God's call--
O chivalry of labour!
Triumph and toil are twins; though they
Be singly born in sorrow,
And 'tis the martyrdom to-day
Brings victory to-morrow!