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 | The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer |  |
266
THE SHADOW OF A GRIEF.
The substance, not the shadow of a grief,Embitters my existence:—though, perchance,
From the green bowers of ever-bright romance
My feeble hand has plucked one laurel leaf.
Few are the souls on earth that sympathize
With toilers who outwatch the stars of night
In searching for the beautiful, while blight
Dims many a hope—still unattained the prize.
Oh! ever welcome is the prayer of one,
Like thee, endowed with “faculty divine,”
And if a charm to ward off ill were mine,
Thy day of joy would know no setting sun;
By sorrow never would thy head be bowed—
Darkened the sky above thee by no cloud.
| The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer | |