 | Poems |  |
28
FAITH.
With the dim brooding of a painless woeSent from afar, I knew not how nor why,
My soul was dark beneath so bright a sky
The light seemed from beyond the sun to flow:
Onward I went in gloom with all this glow
Falling about me, when a joyful cry
Escaped my lips, as, twinkling swiftly by,
A thousand doves flew up with wings of snow.
That instant I was glad: the gloom gave way,
And left th' horizon of my spirit clear;
And from behind I heard the rustling play
Of winging hopes and memories drawing near—
There was not one of all the memories gray,
And with the hopes there did not blend a fear.
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