Celia Thaxter

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.
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