 | The Poetical Works of William Cullen Bryant |  |
THE BETTER AGE.
When, after days of dreary rain, a space
Of clear, soft blue, between the parting clouds,
Opens on the drenched fields and dripping woods,
The tillers of the soil are glad, and say
The storm is overpast. For well they know
That in this clear blue spot begins the reign
Of sunshine. Broader shall the opening grow,
As through the throng of clouds the western wind
Goes forth, a conqueror, and scatters them
And sweeps them from the glorious cope of heaven.
Of clear, soft blue, between the parting clouds,
Opens on the drenched fields and dripping woods,
The tillers of the soil are glad, and say
The storm is overpast. For well they know
That in this clear blue spot begins the reign
Of sunshine. Broader shall the opening grow,
As through the throng of clouds the western wind
Goes forth, a conqueror, and scatters them
And sweeps them from the glorious cope of heaven.
377
Thus in the works of mercy that engage
The minds and hands of thousands, we behold
Signs of a blessed future. They who watch
Beside the sick-beds of the poor, who seek
And lead the erring back to the right way,
And heal the wounded spirit with the balm
Of pity, and hold back the cruel hand
That smites the helpless; they whose labors win
The outcast hater of his kind to feel
The power of goodness and shed penitent tears,
Are God's elected agents to bring in
The better age. With gladness and with thanks
We number mercy's triumphs, and our hopes
Go forward to the train of glorious years,
When all the clouds of strife, that darken earth
And hide the face of heaven, shall roll away,
And, like a calm, sweet sunshine, love and peace
Shall light the dreariest walks of human life.
The minds and hands of thousands, we behold
Signs of a blessed future. They who watch
Beside the sick-beds of the poor, who seek
And lead the erring back to the right way,
And heal the wounded spirit with the balm
Of pity, and hold back the cruel hand
That smites the helpless; they whose labors win
The outcast hater of his kind to feel
The power of goodness and shed penitent tears,
Are God's elected agents to bring in
The better age. With gladness and with thanks
We number mercy's triumphs, and our hopes
Go forward to the train of glorious years,
When all the clouds of strife, that darken earth
And hide the face of heaven, shall roll away,
And, like a calm, sweet sunshine, love and peace
Shall light the dreariest walks of human life.
Roslyn, 1862.
| The Poetical Works of William Cullen Bryant | |