his quiescence, Still bidding crouch whom the rest bade aspire. Blot out his name, then, - record one lost soul more, One task more declined, one more foot-path untrod, One more triumph for devils, and sorrow for angels, One wrong more to man, one more insult to God! Life's night begins; let him never come back to us! There would be doubt, hesitation, and pain, Forced praise on our part, — the glimmer of twilight, Never glad confident morning again! Best fight on well, for we taught him, strike gallantly, Aim at our heart ere we pierce through his own; Then let him receive the new knowledge and wait us, Pardoned in Heaven, the first by the throne! ROBERT BROWNING. THE LANDING OF THE PILGRIM FATHERS IN NEW ENGLAND. THE breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rockbound coast, And the woods against a stormy sky Their giant branches tossed. And the heavy night hung dark On the wild New England shore. |