From tears that burn the cheeks they stain,
And hopes that droop like flowers in rain,
From sorrows that turn grey the hair,
Fain would I pass!
Beyond the silent, soundless main,
Where the long lost are found again,
Where summer smiles for ever fair,
Where skies are pure, divine the air,
Where love and joy eternal reign,
Fain would I pass!
Rev. Charles D. Bell, D.D.
TO A DOLEFUL POET.
Why are you sad when the sky is blue?
Why, when the sun shines bright for you,
And the birds are singing, and all the air
So sweet with the flowers everywhere?
If life hath thorns, it has roses too.
Be wise and be merry. 'Tis half untrue
Your doleful song. You have work to do.
If the work be good, and the world so fair,
Why are you sad?
Life's sorrows are many, its joys so few!
Ah! sing of the joys! Let the dismal crew
Of black thoughts bide in their doleful lair,
Give us glad songs; sing us free from care.
Gladness maketh the world anew,
Why are you sad?
An Answer.
Why am I sad when the sky is blue,
You ask, O friend, and I answer you—
I love the sun and balmy air,
The flowers and glad things everywhere.
But if life is merry, 'tis earnest too.