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Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Margaret Fuller Ossoli, Chapter 11: Brook Farm. (search)
ind or damp. We wear the cross of ebony and gold, Upon a dark back-ground a form of light, A heavenly hoe)c upon a bosom cold, A starry promise in a frequent night; The dying lamp must often trim again, For we are conscious, thoughtful, striving men. Yet be we faithful to this present trust, Clasp to a heart resigned the fatal must; Though deepest dark our efforts should enfold, Unwearied mine to find the vein of gold; Forget not oft to lift the hope on high; The rosy dawn again shall fill the sky. And by that lovely light, all truth revealed, The cherished forms which sad distrust concealed, Transfigured, yet the same, will round us stand, The kindred angels of a faithful band; Ruby and ebon cross both cast aside, No lamp is needed, for the night has died. Be to the best thou knowest ever true, Is all the creed; Then, be thy talisman of rosy hue, Or fenced with thorns that wearing thou must bleed, Or gentle pledge of Love's prophetic view, The faithful steps it will securely lead.