Prev | Current Page 155 | Next

Various

"The World's Best Poetry, Volume 3 Sorrow and Consolation"


The sea of Fortune doth not ever flow,
She draws her favors to the lowest ebb;
Her time hath equal times to come and go,
Her loom doth weave the fine and coarsest web;
No joy so great but runneth to an end,
No hap so hard but may in fine amend.
Not always fall of leaf nor ever spring,
No endless night yet not eternal day;
The saddest birds a season find to sing,
The roughest storm a calm may soon allay;
Thus with succeeding turns God tempereth all,
That man may hope to rise yet fear to fall.
A chance may win that by mischance was lost;
The well that holds no great, takes little fish;
In some things all, in all things none are crossed,
Few all they need, but none have all they wish;
Unmeddled joys here to no man befall,
Who least hath some, who most hath never all.
ROBERT SOUTHWELL.

COMPENSATION.

Tears wash away the atoms in the eye
That smarted for a day;
Rain-clouds that spoiled the splendors of the sky
The fields with flowers array.
No chamber of pain but has some hidden door
That promises release;
No solitude so drear but yields its store
Of thought and inward peace.
No night so wild but brings the constant sun
With love and power untold;
No time so dark but through its woof there run
Some blessed threads of gold.
And through the long and storm-tost centuries burn
In changing calm and strife
The Pharos-lights of truth, where'er we turn,--
The unquenched lamps of life.
O Love supreme! O Providence divine!
What self-adjusting springs
Of law and life, what even scales, are thine,
What sure-returning wings
Of hopes and joys, that flit like birds away,
When chilling autumn blows,
But come again, long ere the buds of May
Their rosy lips unclose!
What wondrous play of mood and accident
Through shifting days and years;
What fresh returns of vigor overspent
In feverish dreams and fears!
What wholesome air of conscience and of thought
When doubts and forms oppress;
What vistas opening to the gates we sought
Beyond the wilderness;
Beyond the narrow cells, where self-involved,
Like chrysalids, we wait
The unknown births, the mysteries unsolved
Of death and change and fate!
O Light divine! we need no fuller test
That all is ordered well;
We know enough to trust that all is best
Where love and wisdom dwell.


Pages:
143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167