Bitter-Sweet by J. G. (Josiah Gilbert) Holland
page 29 of 144 (20%)
page 29 of 144 (20%)
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And the free blood that thrills in all his veins
Betray the health that toil alone secures, Ask truth's credentials at the hand of toil? Do you ask truth's credentials of the storm Which, while we entertain communion here, Makes better music for our huddling hearts Than choirs of stars can sing in fairest nights? Yet weeds are evils--evils toil and storm. We may suspect the fair, smooth face of good; But evil, that assails us undisguised, Bears evermore God's warrant in its hands. _Israel_. I fear these silver sophistries of yours. If my poor judgment gives them honest weight, Far less than thirty will betray your Lord. You call that evil which is good, and good That which is evil. You apologize For that which God must hate, and justify The life and perpetuity of that Which sets itself against His holiness, And sends its discords through the universe. _David_. I sorrow if I shock you, for I seek To comfort and inspire. I see around A silent company of doubtful souls; But I may challenge any one of them |
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