Art is long, and Time is fleeting;
And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.
In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!
Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act, act in the living Present,-
Heart within, and God o'erhead.
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime, And, departing, leave behind us.
Footprints on the sands of time!
Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.
Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.
O Charity-thou queen of virtues all,-
In whose blest name all men for succor call-
Fill with thy noble warmth each gentle breast,
Be thou in manly hearts an honored guest!
With thy sweet promptings teach the child in play
That gracious hearts are happy hearts alway.
For who so blessèd as the man who gives?
Who feels the world is better that he lives?
Deep misery lies broadcast through the land;
Its one salvation is a lavish hand,—
The hand of Charity, which gently dries
The widow's tears and stills the orphan's cries;
Which reaches out fraternally to those
O'er whom the Waters of Despair would close,
Were they not drawn unto a safer shore,
And given hope of fairer life once more!
Thou Child of Heaven with the love-lit eyes,
See, on all sides thy many altars rise;
Their fires gladly fed at thy soft call,
When thy blest spirit rests upon us all.
DEBORAH KLEINERT JANOWITZ
There is a mystic tie that binds
The children of the Hebrew race In bonds of sympathy and love,
Which time and change cannot efface.
When, 'mid the world's abuse and scorn,
The sons of Israel bravely stood,
That bond was holier, stronger still,
Cemented by their martyrs' blood.
And though to-day the Hebrews dwell
In every clime and every land,
Yet, joined by that immortal tie,
A holy brotherhood they stand.
Go to the North, where Polar stars
Look down on fields of ice and snow;
Go where, in sunny tropic climes,
The gentle breezes softly blow;
Go to the countries of the East,
Arabia and the Hindoo land;
Go where the calm Pacific sweeps
'Gainst California's golden strand;—
And there, in reverent tones, is heard
The sacred cry, always the same,
O Israel, hear! our God is one;
Blest be for aye His holy name!"
This is the mystic tie that binds
The children of the Hebrew race;
This is the grand and holy bond
Which time and change cannot efface.
PRAISE YE THE LORD
Praise ye the Lord! for it is good
His mighty acts to magnify,
And make those mercies understood
His hand delights to multiply—
Praise ye the Lord!
Break forth, O Israel! into song;
Let hymns ascend to heaven's vault.
No sweeter task hath mortal tongue,
Than its Creator to exalt!
Praise ye the Lord!
There is a vital spark of heavenly flame
That fills and permeates the mortal frame,
Which He with sacred thoughts doth oft inspire, Who filled Isaiah with poetic fire.
Such thoughts, whose influence the glowing mind
Hath oft disturbed, delighted, raised, refined;
Thoughts, so ineffable, soothing, yet so great,
Thoughts of the life-sustaining Potentate.
And this same spark that in us dwells,
Through which our heart with prayer swells,
Whence comes it? Whence its origin divine?
Whence but from Him from whom all glories shine!
His living breath has reached our bosoms, too,
As shines the sunbeam in a drop of dew;
The effluence of His Presence all divine,
Pervading worlds, doth in our spirit shine.
From Him who plants in the immortal soul
The spring of love and power of self-control,
From God, who doth all motion guide;
The only God!-there is no God beside.
DEBORAH KLEINERT JANOWITZ
THE HOUSE OF GOD
How goodly is Thy house, O Lord!
Within its courts we turn to Thee,
Who is by Israel ador'd
As God to all eternity.
Hither we come to praise Thy name,
Humbly to seek Thy gracious face;
Thy truth and greatness to proclaim
In this, Thy holy dwelling-place.
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