Page:Poems Hornblower.djvu/201

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.

189

Yet she had broke another's hope, and left the true and tried,
And made herself a sacrifice to splendor and to pride.

I saw a lone and wretched hut, and it looked cold and poor,
An aged and a helpless form sat shivering at the door;
Her fire was low, her comforts few, I looked with pity there,
And thought to see a face cast down with sadness and despair;
Her eye was bright, her smile was kind, and as she worked she sung,
And cheered herself with hymns of praise, as slow she crept along.

And then I felt that life was not what it might seem to lie:
That faith and patience are sweet fruits, that spring from misery;
And that the Christian's glorious hope can brighten every scene,
And, in the dark and anguished hour,shed gleams of joy between.
The mother had a hope in death—the lonely one was blest,
But the bride, in all her splendor, had not found the Christian's rest.