Marah :: :: University of Virginia Library

Where the shadow of darkness darkest fell
In the Valley of Tears, by the Gates of Hell,
I was 'ware of an old man, wan as a ghost.
He was bitterly weeping: and there for years,
By the Gates of Hell, in the Valley of Tears,
He had wept and wept for a loved one lost.

2

“Be consoled!” I said. “For the Gates of Hell
Thou hast pass'd not yet, and the griefs that dwell
In the Valley of Tears, be they ne'er so sore,
Yet by little and little they pass away,
And by little and little there comes a day
When the day that was is a grief no more.”

3

“I have pass'd thro' worse than the Gates of Hell,
And I know,” he said, “that for those 'tis well
Who are weeping the loved one lost by death.
For by little and little their grief goes by,
And the dead are forgot, and the living will die,
And a hope still lingers the grave beneath.

4

But as bitter and fierce as the pangs of Hell
(For there is not a hope in their long farewell)
Are the tears that are shed, on no grave that's seen
For the loss of a loved one lost by life.
And each tortures the heart, like a burning knife,
With the trace of a day that in vain has been.”