Words by the Wayside | ||
40
The Heart of the Thorn
Cruel the rose-tree thorn!
Who grasps will rue it:
But have ye seen at morn
The sun shine through it?
Who grasps will rue it:
But have ye seen at morn
The sun shine through it?
Then, though the fell point feign
With hate to hide it,
Tender the warm heart-stain
That glows inside it.
With hate to hide it,
Tender the warm heart-stain
That glows inside it.
Who 'mid the thorns of life
To life's sun turneth,
Hid in the heart of strife
Love's hue discerneth:
To life's sun turneth,
Hid in the heart of strife
Love's hue discerneth:
Happy, though fate-accurst,
Who so can find it—
See through the sad world's worst
God's best behind it.
Who so can find it—
See through the sad world's worst
God's best behind it.
Words by the Wayside | ||