 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
732
THE SEAL OF SORROW.
There is a crown no monarch ever wore,
In right of ancient and imperial blood,
With jewels that the wealthy do not store,
That has no measure in our mortal good.
In right of ancient and imperial blood,
With jewels that the wealthy do not store,
That has no measure in our mortal good.
It stands unstained and has for ages stood,
When other crowns the soil of baseness bore,
'Tis won by those, who love not living more,
The lowly hand of sorrow's brotherhood.
When other crowns the soil of baseness bore,
'Tis won by those, who love not living more,
The lowly hand of sorrow's brotherhood.
And on their foreheads is the solemn seal,
That stern baptisings of distresses gave,
The sign of suffering which destroys to save;
That stern baptisings of distresses gave,
The sign of suffering which destroys to save;
The stamp of love that only strikes to heal,
And sets on those it winnows for their weal,
The awful consecration of the grave.
And sets on those it winnows for their weal,
The awful consecration of the grave.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |