 | Poems |  |
143
WE HOPE.
With the sunlight, with the moonlight, with the starlight sweet and golden,
Come to us a thousand memories that are true and kind, and olden;
And we enter in the chambers of our hearts so gladly lighted,
And with blooming hopes we cover all the joys that care hath blighted,
And encouraged, and rejoicing, we go forth upon our way.
Come to us a thousand memories that are true and kind, and olden;
And we enter in the chambers of our hearts so gladly lighted,
And with blooming hopes we cover all the joys that care hath blighted,
And encouraged, and rejoicing, we go forth upon our way.
With the midnight, with the storm-cloud, with the darkness fiercely scowling,
With the rattling of the rain-drops, and the tempest's dismal howling,
Through our weary hearts, in darkness, we go halting, stumbling, groping,
While Despair is hard upon us, and e'en covers up our hoping;
And in sadness, and in silence, for a gleam of light we pray.
With the rattling of the rain-drops, and the tempest's dismal howling,
Through our weary hearts, in darkness, we go halting, stumbling, groping,
While Despair is hard upon us, and e'en covers up our hoping;
And in sadness, and in silence, for a gleam of light we pray.
144
Then we yearn and call for comfort; but no comfort comes unto us,
And we wrap ourselves in sadness, and Despair goes thrilling thro' us;
And the darkness gathers rounds us, with its horrors, half-unspoken,
And we pray again for succor: that the fearful spell be broken,
With the light of something shining, be it only but a ray.
And we wrap ourselves in sadness, and Despair goes thrilling thro' us;
And the darkness gathers rounds us, with its horrors, half-unspoken,
And we pray again for succor: that the fearful spell be broken,
With the light of something shining, be it only but a ray.
Then within our hearts a blossom, from the dreary mould is springing,
Then the birds of Hope make music, with their sweet and cheerful singing;
Then, upon the great clouds gazing, we discern their silver lining,
And at last, through veils of blackness, bursts the sunbeam's glorious shining,
And upon our raptured vision beams the light of perfect day.
Then the birds of Hope make music, with their sweet and cheerful singing;
Then, upon the great clouds gazing, we discern their silver lining,
And at last, through veils of blackness, bursts the sunbeam's glorious shining,
And upon our raptured vision beams the light of perfect day.
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