ON A LETTER.
121
Its contents still retain a charm, a power so sweet; and yet
The dread uncertainty of joy, which I would fain forget
Intrudes, and blisters every page with an unbidden tear;
Alas, that friendship's purest ties should all be sundered here.
The dread uncertainty of joy, which I would fain forget
Intrudes, and blisters every page with an unbidden tear;
Alas, that friendship's purest ties should all be sundered here.
O, tell me now, thou sainted one, tell me if thou dost wait,
And knowest all I do and say, within yon golden gate?
Tell me if thou dost guide my steps, my trials all dost know?
I pause in this dim wilderness where troubled waters flow;
I am wondering how may I know; the way seems distant, far;
Yet when again I read these lines, descending like a star,
A light so soft, so tender, too, surrounds me like a spell,
Awakening hallowed memories an angel's pen might tell.
And knowest all I do and say, within yon golden gate?
Tell me if thou dost guide my steps, my trials all dost know?
I pause in this dim wilderness where troubled waters flow;
I am wondering how may I know; the way seems distant, far;
Yet when again I read these lines, descending like a star,
A light so soft, so tender, too, surrounds me like a spell,
Awakening hallowed memories an angel's pen might tell.
Yet on I tread the tangled maze, my hope cheered on by love
Of those who oft have joined me here, but now in bowers above
Rejoice, and with a power unknown they bid me live, be strong
To wait, to patiently endure; life cannot suffer long;
A sympathy, e'en while I read, assures me more and more
Of those who oft have joined me here, but now in bowers above
Rejoice, and with a power unknown they bid me live, be strong
To wait, to patiently endure; life cannot suffer long;
A sympathy, e'en while I read, assures me more and more
