Lucy Larcom

For Larger Lives

IN heaven, they say, is undisturbed and perfect peace; and yet
Along our heart-strings, even there, a tremor of regret
Must sometimes wander into pain, if memory survives, —
A grief, that in this good, great world we lived not larger lives.
God moves our planet gloriously among His starry spheres;
And nobler movements for our souls through these our mortal years,
In widening orbits toward Himself eternally He planned: —
We creep and rust in treadmill grooves; we will not be made grand.
He sent us forth, His children, of His inmost life a part;
His breath, His being; each a throb of His deep Father-heart;
He shaped us in His image, suns, to flood His worlds with day: —
Alas! we stifle down His light, and deaden into clay.
Meant to be living fountains, — not little stagnant pools,
Stirred aimlessly from shallow depths, walled round with petty rules,
Drying away to dust at last, — to Him we might ascend,
And with the River of His Life in crystal freshness blend.
To share His freedom — sons of God! There is no other aim
Can kindle any human hope to an immortal flame!
It is the keenest shame of these mean, lettered lives we lead, —
We choose the weights that drag us down, refusing to be freed.
Yet souls that win immortal heights unclogged with self must move:
The only thing that we can take from earth to heaven is love.
To make us great like Thee, O God! Thy Spirit with us strives: —
Enlarge our hearts to take Thee in! O give us nobler lives!