Page:Poems Baldwin.djvu/56

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48
poems.
See yonder dwelling, mansion of the fair,
Where learning holds her rule supremely; there
The hours of study now give place to play,
So priz'd, so dear, when gone the quiet day.
Can any doubt that joyous tone of glee
Springs forth from hearts from care and sorrow free.
Ah! wonder not that joy's unchequer'd light
Should cause them to forget the sad to-night!

One would suppose this hour an hour of rest,
When ev'ry one with quiet leisure blest
Would now the spirit-longing search pursue,
The search for truth, or warmly else renew,
As evening spreads her soft, descending veil,
Their wanderings through the new historic tale.
But ah! this hour sees the weary still
With rigour all the day's long toil fulfil;
Then as the stroke of midnight dies away,
Sink on their beds too weary far to pray!
Can these be men? to live without a thought
Of Him who died for them, whose blood has bought
Their ransom? he who gave up heaven?
Can they not breathe one prayer to be forgiven?
Can they not "watch one hour"? Is lux'rous ease
A nobler theme and object far than these?
Go on and heap up riches, but you'll find
Tis vain t' enjoy them with an empty mind!