The Sunday herald. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1866-1887, 1883-02-25
HOPE AND REASON.
''Thete are more things In heaven and earth, lfo.
ratio, than are dreamed Of In your philosophy "
Shakespeare.


"Tberc are more things in heaven and carh IIo-
ratio, than are dreamed Of In your philosophy. N-
Shakespeare.
hoarg sage had wandered TO q nook
Where Mature slept In quiet scqucstration;
Aud, pauSlng by softly murmurlug brook,
Was lost In thought and silent meditation.
In musing thus Reality was crowned
Upon form that f0uIscorc years had wandered
Through life suerpeNlng phases, had found
clue to lfc's solution. Thus he pondered
The cradle and the grave-each solemn state
Linked by q weary chain oi sure sequence
In each unconscious man is bound to Fate,
one brought him hlthcr, one mast tako him henco
Undreamlne Of It's origin, It's DRIFT,
The human heart doats Wildly o'er tide,
Struggling, 10y Hope and Reason, stll touft
It's gaze to haven where It may abide
The summary otufc Is labor past;
Hut where is that recorded which is done
WHAT bettcr Is the sinking man, at last,
Than ncw-born babe whose lie Is now bcgmg
What is tie fruit OF labor Int despair
In owning all our tolls and struggles naucht-.
Tho vision OF our hopes dlspclled inair--
Mud mortal blindness but the lesson taugitg
Where are the cities ancient ages reared
The homes, the courts, the monuments, the arts2
Where all the objects cherished and revered
Ry gody attributes to human hcarts2
Vanished with comprehenson's temporal rayg
Cetsing to he when those to whom cndeared,
Passlng Ia general muster, led the way
Whose entrance, though most natural, most Is
tearodY
There Is no heart that hath not fondly loved
(rhere Is no mind that hath not deeply feared
som simple thing, which IN Its essence proved
A fancy, by Imagination reared
But so Is Hope with life continuous bound,
That, to the end, she teaches us to dream,
Beyond our present confines will be found
In bright reality 1.-THE things that seem,
Not in Times face can man discern the line
That Nature draws for his iulallment here;
Nor can philosophy by laws, define
A destiny beyond a finite sphere.
general tate alone hath Nature brought
To opoyerty to wealth, to bright renowu-
ro-dy, Tomorrow be the lesson taught
Time either trips man up, runs him down.
So, idle Speculation, with clipped wings,
ruru,d by Hope and Reason falls to dust;
Whi'e all.surrounding Universe stlll brings
A woudrous question to Inherent Trust:
Is the deep destiny OF Natures soul
Revealed to little cultured mind OF mani
Shall he explain the system OF control
Who Is an atom In the general plan
II nothing come OF what hath some time been,
Whence cometh man? Advanced from lower forms,
Why shall he limit to the things unseen
a destiny of darkness and of wormsg
Nature retraces nothing Of the past
Hut follows out subtle destiny,
In all things growing greater, in her haste
Referring doubters-to Eternity.
True mortal selhshneSs win chain the heart
To things but fitted to a mortal scope
Yet, ever coursag through our mental part,
Remains, midst chance and change, undying Hope.
In Nature no deception can be found
In heavens vault we look beyond our sphere,
| with Hope and Reason, still to silence bound,
Revealing life, iucomprehensve here.
The destiny of man Is fixed by Fate
Ills lite and thought are cause and consequence
/ To Infinite adyancement--et his state
| BE dark or fair, his soul 1t Will dispense
To deeper benefit than mortal ken
Shall CLEAN from prominent Nature 5 living page:
She who, when all is faintest, leaves to men
/ Bright Hope, and Reasons lamp from age to age
| As future years veiled to human sight,
So is Eternity to earth's domain;
! Accept contentedly thy wrong or right,
Believe that nothing here exists in vain
A nober destiny than mortal life
Is linked with Natures ever moving sweep,
| And far beyond world of toll aud strife
/ yet concealed Weakening from sleep.
/ Two spirits, promising higher state,
Cling TO the man, and only leave him last,
/ When form and fancy fail with ife's abaie,
Aud cut Eternity from Natures past;
/ The pad smile that gathers on his face,
All else deceivng in that hour of pain,
Pr0Clams to those remaining of his race,
That Hope and Reason have not lived In vain.
HARRY CoFFEY.