A Reverie, a Poem

REVERIE. BY H. W. NAISBITT.

I linger 'mid the shadows flitting o'er this life's highway, Its sunshine blinds my vision, and I look too far away; I can stand the cloud or raindrops, or mists which hide from sight Each winding curve my steps must take before 'tis truly night.

The mountain top, the widespread vales, have not that loving spell Which quiet nook, and leafy lanes, and bounded vistas tell; The little and the nearest-by, my soul with rapture thrill Far more than landscapes spreading out, which unknown distance fill.

All detail fades, at sea, on land, excess is mind o'erthrown; Mayhap 'tis great and grand in moods, uncoveted, unknown; 'Tis wealth, embarrassing— too much, for simple common ken.

And soul shrinks from this mighty whole to meaner things of men.

In dreams of thought some see afar, dominions, thrones and kings; They soar amid eternities, as if on seraph's wings; I only ask a humble place, a sphere within my reach, To meet my duty day by day, and then its lessons teach.

This task, well done, will Heaven give, whate'er that bliss may be; It may not be a crown or throne, where there is no more sea; But 't will be sweet in rest, or work, as He may think 'tis best, And I shall love, I hope, His will, for I have proved it best.