The tasks that once were easy to perform
Did seem vast mountains to the strength so worn;
And if the sun did shine, or if it not,
In shadow’s dwelt her heart; no ray, no spot
Of light or hope did penetrate the gloom—
This life seemed sadder far than death or tomb.
And still she wept!
’Till to her tear-washed eyes there came,
Like “bow of promise” after summer rain,
A vision beauteous from that “other land”—