Out of dead lives fresh life is sent,
Sorrow to these is growth for me,
And who shall question God’s decree?”
Ah, dreary life, whose gladsome spark
No longer leaps in song and fire,
But lies in ashes gray and stark,
Defeated hopes and dead desire,
Useless and dull and all bereft,—
Take courage, this one thing is left:
Some happier life may use thee so,