 | Sonnets and Other Poems Chiefly Religious |  |
49
FIRST SORROW.
The days of childhood—were they golden?
We see them through a golden haze
Of memory; but, when near beholden,
Were they indeed such golden days?
We see them through a golden haze
Of memory; but, when near beholden,
Were they indeed such golden days?
No, not of gold those early hours,
Although their passing pleased us well.
They were but lovely vernal flowers,
Fading and withering ere they fell.
Although their passing pleased us well.
They were but lovely vernal flowers,
Fading and withering ere they fell.
But when our earliest grief was blended
With trembling faith, our hearts to melt;
When childhood's careless joys were ended,
And life's reality was felt;
With trembling faith, our hearts to melt;
When childhood's careless joys were ended,
And life's reality was felt;
When first we cried to God alone;—
That was indeed the golden hour!
Then seed of heavenly life was sown
In weakness, to be raised in power.
That was indeed the golden hour!
Then seed of heavenly life was sown
In weakness, to be raised in power.
The richest store of heavenly gain
May spring from deepest earthly loss.
The holiest joy has roots in pain—
Eternal glory in the Cross.
May spring from deepest earthly loss.
The holiest joy has roots in pain—
Eternal glory in the Cross.
| Sonnets and Other Poems Chiefly Religious | |