 | [Poems by Whittier in] A Study of Whittier's Apprenticeship as a Poet |  |
HOPE
When the o'er burdened mind
Sinks 'midst the turmoil and the strife of earth—
And mournful thoughts enshrined
In the dark spirit, send their influence forth
Like the cold whirlwinds, from the frozen North:
Sinks 'midst the turmoil and the strife of earth—
And mournful thoughts enshrined
In the dark spirit, send their influence forth
Like the cold whirlwinds, from the frozen North:
When the beclouded eye
Is dim and tearful in Affliction's hour,
And in the bitter sky,
The dusky legions of the tempest lour,
And Sorrow's rain comes down o'er perished leaf and flower,
Is dim and tearful in Affliction's hour,
And in the bitter sky,
The dusky legions of the tempest lour,
And Sorrow's rain comes down o'er perished leaf and flower,
What upon such a scene
Can shed the radiance that from Heaven descends—
That makes our pathway green:
That gifts of glory to each blossom lends,
And with the unsullied sky the smile of Eden blends?
Can shed the radiance that from Heaven descends—
That makes our pathway green:
That gifts of glory to each blossom lends,
And with the unsullied sky the smile of Eden blends?
Is it the world's vain show—
The pomp and glitter of its fading things
That o'er our paths can throw
A ray, where Fate, with melancholy wings
O'er treasured dreams of love, her midnight shadow flings?
The pomp and glitter of its fading things
That o'er our paths can throw
A ray, where Fate, with melancholy wings
O'er treasured dreams of love, her midnight shadow flings?
[OMITTED]
Hope hath brief dwelling here—
Her pure white wing is folded but in Heaven:
Yet oft the soul to cheer
To the believer's way her smiles are given—
To heal the wounded breast, by sin and sorrow riven!
Her pure white wing is folded but in Heaven:
Yet oft the soul to cheer
To the believer's way her smiles are given—
To heal the wounded breast, by sin and sorrow riven!
241
And onward, to the eye
Of ardent faith, beyond that Desert Land,
Her glorious mansions lie:
There her bright form is lost on God's right hand,
Hid in the eternal beams that round the blest expand.
Of ardent faith, beyond that Desert Land,
Her glorious mansions lie:
There her bright form is lost on God's right hand,
Hid in the eternal beams that round the blest expand.
Stanzas 1, 2, 3, 4, 7, 8 Connecticut Mirror, February 11, 1832
| [Poems by Whittier in] A Study of Whittier's Apprenticeship as a Poet | |