[THIS WORLD]
This world is a sad, sad place I know;
And what soul living can doubt it.
But it will not lessen the want and woe,
To be always singing about it.
Then away with the songs that are full of tears,
Away with dirges that sadden.
Let us make the most of our fleeting years,
By singing the lays that gladden.
The world at its saddest is not all sad--
There are days of sunny weather.
And the people within it are not all bad,
But saints and sinners together.
I think those wonderful hours in June,
Are better by far, to remember,
Than those when the world gets out of tune
In the cold, bleak winds of November.
Because we meet in the walks of life
Many a selfish creature,
It does not prove that this world of strife
Has no redeeming feature.
There is bloom, and beauty upon the earth,
There are buds and blossoming flowers,
There are souls of truth, and hearts of worth--
There are glowing, golden hours.
In thinking over a joy we've known,
We easily make it double.
Which is better by far, than to mope and moan,
Over sorrow and grief and trouble.
For though this world is sad, we know,
(And who that is living can doubt it,)
It will not lessen the want, or woe,
To be always singing about it.
1872
[GOING AWAY]
Walking to-day on the Common,
I heard a stranger say
To a friend who was standing near him,
"Do you know I am going away?"
I had never seen their faces:
May never see them again,
But the words the stranger uttered,
Stirred me with nameless pain.
For I knew some heart would miss him,
Would ache at his "going away,"
And the earth would seem all cheerless,
For many and many a day.
No matter how glad my spirit,
No matter how light my heart,
If I hear these two words uttered.
The tear drops always start.
They are so sad and solemn,
So full of a lonely sound:
Like dead leaves rustling downward,
And dropping upon the ground.
Oh, I pity the naked branches,
When the skies are dull and gray,
And the last leaf whispers softly,
"Good bye, I am going away."
In the dreary, dripping Autumn,
The wings of the flying birds
As they soar away to the southland,
Seem always to say these words.
Where ever they may be uttered,
They fall with a sob, and sigh;
And heart-aches follow the sentence,
"I am going away--Good bye."