Could
the annals of human misery be fairly written, it might appear that not
all the lusts and crimes which are daily blazoned to the eye have
wrought such wide-spread misery, have inflicted such general
unhappiness, as these sins of temper, so common in their operation that
they pass almost unrebuked, but so wide-spread in their effects that
their havoc is discovered in every feature of our social life.
THE REVELATIONS OF GRIEF
_THE HOUSE OF PRIDE_
_I lived with Pride; the house was hung
With tapestries of rich design.
Of many houses, this among
Them all was richest, and 'twas mine.
But in the chambers burned no fire,
Tho' all the furniture was gold,
I sickened of fulfilled desire,
The House of Pride was very cold._
_I lived with Knowledge; very high
Her house rose on a mountain's side.
I watched the stars roll through the sky,
I read the scroll of Time flung wide.
But in that house, austere and bare,
No children played, no laughter clear
Was heard, no voice of mirth was there,
The House was high but very drear._
_I lived with Love; all she possest
Was but a tent beside a stream.
She warmed my cold hands in her breast,
She wove around my sleep a dream.
And One there was with face divine
Who softly came, when day was spent,
And turned our water into wine,
And made our life a sacrament.
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