 | [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
SUNSET.
Away in the dim and distant past
That little valley lies,
Where the clouds that dimmed life's morning hours
Were tinged with hope's sweet dyes.
That little valley lies,
Where the clouds that dimmed life's morning hours
Were tinged with hope's sweet dyes.
That peaceful spot from which I looked
To the future—unaware
That the heat and burden of the day
Were meant for me to bear.
To the future—unaware
That the heat and burden of the day
Were meant for me to bear.
Alas, alas! I have borne the heat,
To the burden learned to bow;
For I stand on the top of the hill of life,
And I see the sunset now!
To the burden learned to bow;
For I stand on the top of the hill of life,
And I see the sunset now!
I stand on the top, but I look not back
To the way behind me spread;
Not to the path my feet have trod,
But the path they still must tread.
To the way behind me spread;
Not to the path my feet have trod,
But the path they still must tread.
And straight and plain before my gaze
The certain future lies;
But my sun grows larger all the while
As he travels down the skies.
The certain future lies;
But my sun grows larger all the while
As he travels down the skies.
Yea, the sun of my hope grows large and grand;
For, with my childish years,
I have left the mist that dimmed my sight,
I have left my doubts and fears.
For, with my childish years,
I have left the mist that dimmed my sight,
I have left my doubts and fears.
And I have gained in hope and trust,
Till the future looks so bright,
That, letting go of the hand of Faith,
I walk, at times, by sight.
Till the future looks so bright,
That, letting go of the hand of Faith,
I walk, at times, by sight.
For we only feel that faith is life,
And death is the fear of death,
When we suffer up to the solemn heights
Of a true and living faith.
And death is the fear of death,
When we suffer up to the solemn heights
Of a true and living faith.
When we do not say, the dead shall rise
At the resurrection's call;
But when we trust in the Lord, and know
That we cannot die at all!
At the resurrection's call;
But when we trust in the Lord, and know
That we cannot die at all!
| [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |