120
poems.
Ah, night! while silently above
The clouds may dim the smile of love,
The love that light proclaims to-day
Expanding flowers around our way;
How many a scene of sadness bears
To heaven its hopeful silent prayers!
(And sorrow's night must linger yet,
Nor with the early morning set.)
How many hearts obtain no rest,
But weep their anguish on thy breast!
How many a spirit, worn with grief,
To friendship looks with kind relief,
And human suff'ring smiles again
When art can mitigate its pain!
The clouds may dim the smile of love,
The love that light proclaims to-day
Expanding flowers around our way;
How many a scene of sadness bears
To heaven its hopeful silent prayers!
(And sorrow's night must linger yet,
Nor with the early morning set.)
How many hearts obtain no rest,
But weep their anguish on thy breast!
How many a spirit, worn with grief,
To friendship looks with kind relief,
And human suff'ring smiles again
When art can mitigate its pain!
The lovely Mary, long laid low,
A victim to the pangs of woe,
We may not ask her grief to know.
The heart must suffer and be still.
A purpose strong and iron will,
Not human pride but Christian trust,
Lifts up the spirit from the dust.
Oh, in the first wild gush of grief,
No human aid affords relief;
The storm must fall, the trusting heart
From ev'ry joy and hope must part;
A victim to the pangs of woe,
We may not ask her grief to know.
The heart must suffer and be still.
A purpose strong and iron will,
Not human pride but Christian trust,
Lifts up the spirit from the dust.
Oh, in the first wild gush of grief,
No human aid affords relief;
The storm must fall, the trusting heart
From ev'ry joy and hope must part;
