Something beyond! Light for our clouded eyes!
In this dark dwelling, in its shrouded beams, Our best waits masked, few pierce the soul's disguise;
How sad it seems!
Something beyond! Ah, if it were not so,
Darker would be thy face, O brief To-day; Earthward we 'd bow beneath life's smiting woe,
Powerless to pray.
Something beyond! The immortal morning stands
Above the night; clear shines her precious brow; The pendulous star in her transfigured hands
Brightens the Now.
MARY CLEMMER AMES HUDSON.
Say not, the struggle nought availeth,
The labor and the wounds are vain, The enemy faints not, nor faileth,
And as things have been they remain.
If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;
It may be, in yon smoke concealed, Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers,
And, but for you, possess the field.
For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
Seem here no painful inch to gain, Far back, through creeks and inlets making,
Comes silent, flooding in, the main.
And not by eastern windows only.
When daylight comes, comes in the light; In front, the sun climbs slow, how slowly,
But westward, look, the land is bright.
ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH.