 | Poems and verses by Mary Mapes Dodge |  |
56
THE TROUBLED MAID.
A village maiden lightly trod
Her lonely way to the house of God.
And there the words that met her ear
Were bitter words for a maid to hear.
For they said the world was bad to the core,
And the heart of the maiden grew faint and sore.
Her lonely way to the house of God.
And there the words that met her ear
Were bitter words for a maid to hear.
For they said the world was bad to the core,
And the heart of the maiden grew faint and sore.
As homeward then she went her way,
Her path through a lovely woodland lay;
And stooping to pluck a rose, she caught
Only the thorns. Alas! she thought,
Dear Lord in heaven, must this be so?
Do thorns forever with roses grow?
In all this beautiful world and dear
Must sin and woe lurk hidden near?
Then, tenderly pressing the flower to her face,
Breathing its sweetness and holy with grace,
She said as she bent her fair head down:
“With roses and thorns we must weave our crown;
God is our Father, and he is good.”
And her way grew bright through the lonely wood.
Her path through a lovely woodland lay;
And stooping to pluck a rose, she caught
Only the thorns. Alas! she thought,
Dear Lord in heaven, must this be so?
Do thorns forever with roses grow?
In all this beautiful world and dear
Must sin and woe lurk hidden near?
57
Breathing its sweetness and holy with grace,
She said as she bent her fair head down:
“With roses and thorns we must weave our crown;
God is our Father, and he is good.”
And her way grew bright through the lonely wood.
| Poems and verses by Mary Mapes Dodge | |