BY SYDNEY GREY.
Yes, it is true that I am blind (it was not always thus),
But oft it comes into my mind how God can comfort us.
For if, of some good gift bereft, we bend before His will,
He ever has a blessing left which should our sorrows still.
This very morn I found it so; scarce had the day begun,
Ere with small, pattering, restless feet that hither swiftly run,
The children came in joyous mood, and shouted, “Spring is here!”