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e them-- We are burdened in life with the sad; Our portion is trouble, our joy is a bubble, And the gladdest is never too glad. From the pale tracts of peril, past mountain heads sterile, To a sweet river shadowed with reeds, Where Summer steps lightly, and Winter beams brightly, The hoof-rutted cattle track leads. There soft is the moonlight, and tender the noon-light; There fiery things falter and fall; And there may be seen, now, the gold and the green, now, And the wings of a peace over all. Hush, bittern and plover! Go, wind, to thy cover Away by the snow-smitten Pole! The rotten leaf falleth, the forest rain calleth; And what is the end of the whole? Some men are successful after seasons distressful [Now, masters, the drift of my tale]; But the brink of salvation is a lair of damnation For others who struggle, yet fail. To Damascus Where the sinister sun of the Syrians beat On the brittle, bright stubble, And the camels fell back from the swords of the heat, Came Saul, with a fire in the soles of his feet, And a forehead of trouble. And terrified faces to left and to right, Before and behind him, Fled away with the speed of a maddening fright To the cloughs of the bat and the chasms of night, Each hoping the zealot would fail in his flight To find him and bind him. For, behold you! the strong man of Tarsus came down With breathings of slaughter, From the priests of the city, the chiefs of the town (The lords with the sword, and the sires with the gown), To harry the Christians, and trample, and drown, And waste them like water. He was ever a fighter, this son of the Jews-- A fighter in earnest; And the Lord took delight in the strength of his thews, For He knew he was one of the few He could choose To fight out His battles and carry His news Of a marvellous truth through the dark and the dews, And the desert lands furnaced! He knew he was one of the few He could take For His mission supernal, Whose feet would not falter, whose limbs would not ache, Through the waterless lands of the thorn and the snake, And the ways of the wild--bearing up for the sake Of a Beauty eternal. And therefore the road to Damascus was burned With a swift, sudden brightness; While Saul, with his face in the bitter dust,
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