Sorrow
UPON my lips she laid her touch divine,
And merry speech and careless laughter died;
She fixed her melancholy eyes on mine,
And would not be denied.
I saw the west wind loose his cloudlets white
In flocks, careering through the April sky;
I could not sing though joy was at its height,
For she stood silent by.
I watched the lovely evening fade away;
A mist was lightly drawn across the stars;
She broke my quiet dream, I heard her say,
“Behold your prison bars!
”Earth’s gladness shall not satisfy your soul,
This beauty of the world in which you live;
The crowning grace that sanctifies the whole,
That, I alone can give."
I heard and shrank away from her afraid;
But still she held me and would still abide;
Youth’s bounding pulses slackened and obeyed,
With slowly ebbing tide.
“Look thou beyond the evening star,” she said,
“Beyond the changing splendors of the day;
Accept the pain, the weariness, the dread,
Accept and bid me stay!”
I turned and clasped her close with sudden strength,
And slowly, sweetly, I became aware
Within my arms God’s angel stood at length,
White-robed and calm and fair.
And now I look beyond the evening star,
Beyond the changing splendors of the day,
Knowing the pain He sends more precious far,
More beautiful, than they.
