 | Poetical fragments of the late Richard Alfred Millikin |  |
GOOD AND ILL:—
A SONG.
Oh! who would say this world's a vale,
Where nought but tears and sorrows flow,
Where gusts of ill the breast assail,
And ever piercing thorns grow.
Where nought but tears and sorrows flow,
Where gusts of ill the breast assail,
And ever piercing thorns grow.
Oh no! with equal hand bestow'd,
The good and ill of life we share,
Some flowers will deck the roughest road,
And pleasures mingle with our care.
The good and ill of life we share,
Some flowers will deck the roughest road,
And pleasures mingle with our care.
The longest journey ends at last,
The wildest sea has got a shore,
Spring follows still the wintry blast,
And time has yet its joys in store.
The wildest sea has got a shore,
Spring follows still the wintry blast,
And time has yet its joys in store.
| Poetical fragments of the late Richard Alfred Millikin | |