A CHARGE
by: Herbert Trench (1865-1923)
- F thou hast squander'd years to
grave a gem
- Commission'd by thy absent Lord, and while
- 'Tis incomplete,
- Others would bribe thy needy skill to them--
- Dismiss them to the street!
-
- Should'st thou at last discover Beauty's grove,
- At last be panting on the fragrant verge,
- But in the track,
- Drunk with divine possession, thou meet Love--
- Turn at her bidding back.
-
- When round thy ship in tempest Hell appears,
- And every spectre mutters up more dire
- To snatch control
- And loose to madness thy deep-kennell'd Fears--
- Then to the helm, O Soul!
-
- Last; if upon the cold green-mantling sea
- Thou cling, alone with Truth, to the last spar,
- Both castaway,
- And one must perish--let it not be he
- Whom thou art sworn to obey!
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