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Poem by Lydia Huntley Sigourney “Redeeming the Time“ Why break the limits of permitted thought To revel in Elysium? thou who bear'st Still the stern yoke of this unresting life, Its toils, its hazards, and its fears of change? Why hang thy frost-work wreath on Fancy's brow, When labor warns thee to thy daily task, And Faith doth bid thee gird thyself to run Thy thorny journey to the gate of Heaven? Up, 'tis no dreaming-time! awake! awake! For He who sits on the high Judge's seat, Doth in his record note each wasted hour, Each idle word. Take heed, thy shrinking soul Find not their weight too heavy, when it stands At that dread bar, from whence is no appeal. Lo, while ye trifle, the light sand steals on Leaving the hour-glass empty, and thy life Glideth away,—stamp wisdom on its hours. Lydia Huntley Sigourney Lydia Huntley Sigourney's other poems: 1210 Views |
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