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An Address to the Soul

By Mrs. R. Hyneman

Awake! thou hast slimbered long,
   Now arm thee for the fight—
Be thy faith firm, thy courage strong
To brave a world of aggression and wrong
   Where might o’ercometh right.

Arouse! thou hast dreamed a dream;
   Now waken to prove how vain
Was the current’s flow of that stream,
So unruffled and pure, that too bright a beam
   Could tinge its breast with pain.

Up! up! thou hast work to brave,
   A task must yet be done,
Ere sinks the moon in her ocean cave,
Or the slimbering streamlet or turbulent wave
   Is touched by morning’s sun.

Thou must con a bitter task,
   For thou hast yet to know
How some in fortune’s sunbeams bask,
Yet refuse the aid a brother may ask,
   To shield his life from wo.

Thou must bind thee to the wheel
   Of the worldling’s car of pride;
There teach the wronged heart to feel
The weight of despair and the scourge of steel,
   That a heartless world deride.

Go forth when thy task is done,
   Go, kiss the chastening rod,
And when thy weary race is run,
Then know that each earth wound that goaded thee on
   Hath brought thee nearer to God.