LXXIV.—THE DOUBTING HEART.
ADELAIDE A. PROCTOR.
FIRST VOICE.
1. Where are the swallows fled?
Frozen and dead,
Perchance, upon some bleak and stormy shore.
SECOND VOICE.
O doubting heart!
Far over purple seas,
They wait, in sunny ease,
The balmy southern breeze,
To bring them to their northern home once more.
FIRST VOICE.
2. Why must the flowers die?
Poisoned they lie
In the cold tomb, heedless of tears or rain.
SECOND VOICE.
O doubting heart!
They only sleep below
The soft, white, ermine snow,
While winter winds shall blow,
To breathe and smile upon you soon again.
FIRST VOICE.
3. The sun has hid its rays
These many days;
Will dreary hours never leave the earth?
SECOND VOICE.
O doubting heart!
The stormy clouds on high
Vail the same sunny sky,
That soon, (for Spring is nigh.)
Shall wake the Summer into golden mirth.
FIRST VOICE.
4. Fair Hope is dead, and light
Is quenched in night.
What sound can break the silence of despair?
SECOND VOICE.
O doubting heart!
The sky is overcast,
Yet stars shall rise at last,
Brighter for darkness past,
And angels’ silver voices stir the air.