 | The Poetical Works of Reginald Heber |  |
369
HAPPINESS.
One morning in the month of May
I wander'd o'er the hill;
Though nature all around was gay,
My heart was heavy still.
I wander'd o'er the hill;
Though nature all around was gay,
My heart was heavy still.
Can God, I thought, the good, the great,
These meaner creatures bless,
And yet deny our human state
The boon of happiness?
These meaner creatures bless,
And yet deny our human state
The boon of happiness?
Tell me, ye woods, ye smiling plains,
Ye blessed birds around,
Where, in creation's wide domains,
Can perfect bliss be found?
Ye blessed birds around,
Where, in creation's wide domains,
Can perfect bliss be found?
The birds wild caroll'd over head,
The breeze around me blew,
And nature's awful chorus said,
No bliss for man she knew!
The breeze around me blew,
And nature's awful chorus said,
No bliss for man she knew!
370
I question'd love, whose early ray
So heavenly bright appears;
And love, in answer, seem'd to say,
His light was dimm'd by tears.
So heavenly bright appears;
And love, in answer, seem'd to say,
His light was dimm'd by tears.
I question'd friendship,—friendship mourn'd,
And thus her answer gave:
The friends whom fortune had not turn'd
Were vanish'd in the grave!
And thus her answer gave:
The friends whom fortune had not turn'd
Were vanish'd in the grave!
I ask'd of feeling,—if her skill
Could heal the wounded breast?
And found her sorrows streaming still,
For others' griefs distrest.
Could heal the wounded breast?
And found her sorrows streaming still,
For others' griefs distrest.
I ask'd if vice could bliss bestow?
Vice boasted loud and well:
But, fading from her pallid brow
The venom'd roses fell.
Vice boasted loud and well:
But, fading from her pallid brow
The venom'd roses fell.
I question'd virtue,—virtue sigh'd,
No boon could she dispense;
Nor virtue was her name, she cried,
But humble penitence!
No boon could she dispense;
Nor virtue was her name, she cried,
But humble penitence!
371
I question'd Death,—the grisly shade
Relax'd his brow severe;
And, “I am happiness,” he said,
“If virtue guides thee here!”
Relax'd his brow severe;
And, “I am happiness,” he said,
“If virtue guides thee here!”
| The Poetical Works of Reginald Heber | |