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Make yourselves wings, O tarrying feet of fate
Ye that have help to give.
O Love, long looked for, wherefore wilt thou wait?
Come forth, be born and live.
O Life and Love! O happy throng
Of thoughts whose only speech is song!
O heart of man! canst thou not be
Blithe as the air is and as free?
I follow, follow through unfamiliar fields,
Fragrant with flowers and musical with song;
And confident that what the future yields
Will be right, unless myself be wrong.
Thoughts light, like gleams, my spirit's sky,
They light me once and hurry by,
O let them come again.
Perfect service rendered, duties done
In charity, soft speech, and stainless days;
These riches shall not fade away in life,
Nor any death dispraise.
Calm soul of things! make it mine
To feel amid the city's jar,
That there abides a place of thine,
Man did not make and cannot mar.
O holy night! from thee I learn to bear
What man has born before;
Thou layest a finger on the lips of care,
And they complain no more.
Come unto Me, all that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
(Youlden, H. (1914), Manual of Ethical Devotion, 143-4)