122
POEMS.
Aye, brighter for the passing shade,
The fleeting rays of pleasure seem,
Though hopes that round our heart had played
May shed no more their joyous gleam;
Yet in the sun that shines at last,
We lose the shadow of the past.
The fleeting rays of pleasure seem,
Though hopes that round our heart had played
May shed no more their joyous gleam;
Yet in the sun that shines at last,
We lose the shadow of the past.
And better far, tho' keen the dart,
That chequered thus our path should be;
For well we know the human heart
Doth rust in long prosperity;
But chastened by the shadow's night,
We learn to bless the sunbeam bright.
H. A.
That chequered thus our path should be;
For well we know the human heart
Doth rust in long prosperity;
But chastened by the shadow's night,
We learn to bless the sunbeam bright.
H. A.
