Page:Poems Stephens.djvu/10

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RETROSPECTION.

The year is past, the one we hailed
 With mirth and music, jest and song,
Time has with steady, noiseless step,
 Borne that as others, swift along."

And 'twas alas like those before—
 Had smiles of joy and tears of grief—
Had vain regrets for yesterday,
 Hopes of the morrow false and brief.

And earnest aspirations toe,—
 Deep yearnings for the pure and good℄
But when temptations passed between,
 Our feeble nature scarce withstood.

A present bliss o'ercame the faith
 That sight alone should triumph here
We counted each privation great,
 And every trial thought severe.

We sought for wealth, 'twas worse than vain—
 For fame, and yet we found it nor,
And dreamed of love in hearts of those,
 Who had our very name forgot.

We made new friends, neglected old—
 Nor thought at what a fearful cost,
Till later hours of bitterness,
 Had proved the worth of those we lost.

We heard some breathe the welding vow,
 And shared in scenes of festal mirth—
As oft we've looked upon the dead,
 Or sat beside a lonely hearth.

And chequered thus with sun and shade,
 Has been our path a few short years,
No day has been completely bright,
 And none entirely filled with tears.

And can we hope that years to come
 Will have a fairer record page;
Do we in patience still improve,
 And does our strength increase with age.

It rests with us—nor blot nor stain
 Can make the faintest impress there,
If faithfully we act our part.
 Content alike to do and bear.

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HEREAFTER;

We can but wonder, with our feeble senses,
 How flowers of fairest form and purest shade
Can bud and blossom all unceasingly,
 And never suffer blight and never fade.

Or how sweet groves in all their strength and grandeur,
 And clothed in verdure picked from every clime,
Can live from year to year nor lose their beauty,
 Before that arch destroyer, ruthless Time.

While from the hills flow cool and sparkling fountains,
 With which the streams of earth could never vie,
And offered free for every one that's thirsty,
 Yet never troubled, neither ever dry.

And all these bills, that are for everlasting,
 Are resting in a most effulgent light,
And gloomy clouds will never round them hover,
 And never on them fall the shades of night.

And will this spirit, so afraid of leaving
 A little mass of perishable clay,
Awake in presence of the great Creator
 A living form that never shall decay?

And can there be a love that's never waning,
 A friendship pure that never will grow cold,
A beauty that's supreme and never fading,
 And youthful strength that never shall grow old?

And stranger yet, will sin have no dominion,
 Nor longer bind us with its galling chain?
Shall we to more be tempted unto yielding,
 And know no more of sorrow, guilt and pain?

Ah. this is only in the great hereafter—
 To mortal senses there must be denied
A perfect knowledge of the heavenly country
 And joys that wait upon the justified.

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INVOCATION TO HOPE.

O, come and sit beside my hearth,
Thou dearest guest of all on earth:
Come with thy kindly voice and smile
And help my weariness beguile,

Wilt thou to me sweet counsel give
Of how I may serenely live,
I'm glad thou hast not tarried late,
Lest I perchance should war with faith.

For I have friends that careless prove—
They harken not to words of love;
And hast thou known of such before,
And they returned to vex no more?

Will see I am by care opprest,
My hands are tired, my brain distressed;
What, would not ask these cares removed?
So sweet to toil for those beloved.

But sure my griefs are hard to bear
So heavy and so great a share:
Is't wrong to mourn those passed away
To happiness that lasts for aye?

Well what of pains that know no cure,
If I still patiently endure,
Rejoicing? Is it sure at last
When care and grief and pain are past?

I thank thee, Hope; thou art the best
Of earthly friends the tenderest,
But stay with me, for all the while
I need thy kindly voice and smile.

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WRATH AND MERCY.

The angel of wrath as he pondered the world,
 Beholding its hate, its deceit and its strife,
Its worship of gain and its hosts of depraved,
 Abusing the gift and the blessings of life,

Besought as a favor that he for a time
 Might hold undisputed and absolute sway,
Might show to transgressors the power of his arm
 And teach them at once to both fear and obey.

He boasted how soon there'd be nothing but good,
 That wrong and its triumphs forever would cease,
That force was the agency meant for control—
 The rod was the greatest promoter of peace.

And with the permission what whirlwinds arose,
 What deadliest pestilence lurked in the air,
And lightnings descended with terrible stroke,
 And famine, and deluge, and scorchings were there.

And wretched humanity, burdened with woe,
 Was driven to frenzy of rage and despair,
And wailings and curses were heard on each hand,
 But still the stern angel would never forbear.