Selection from “The Last Walk in Autumn”

XX.
Better to stem with heart and hand
The roaring tide of life, than lie,
Unmindful, on its flowery strand,
Of God’s occasions drifting by!
Better with naked nerve to bear
The needles of this goading air,
Than, in the lap of sensual ease, forego
The godlike power to do, the godlike aim to know.

XXI.
Home of my heart! to me more fair
Than gay Versailles or Windsor’s halls,
The painted, shingly town-house where
The freeman’s vote for Freedom falls!
The simple roof where prayer is made,
Than Gothic groin and colonnade;
The living temple of the heart of man,
Than Rome’s sky-mocking vault, or many-spired Milan!