For seven revolving, weary years one eye was lost to light;
The other, darkened by a film, during three years saw no day,
High heaven’s bright and gladd’ning light could not pierce it with its ray.
Long, long I sought the hoped relief, but still I sought in vain,
My treasures lavished in the search, brought no relief from pain;
Till, at length, I thought my garments I must either pawn or sell,
And plenty in my house, I feared, was never more to dwell.
Then loudly did I ask, for what cause such pain I bore—
For transgressions in a former life unatoned for before?
But again came the reflection how, of yore, oft men of worth,