When Love’s sweet magic thrilled my soul,
And Life a paradise did seem,
Soul! Were it not best to die
Than live to find it all a dream?
And when I tried to reach the goal
Upon the heights so far above,
Another passed me in the race
And won the prize for which I strove.
And as I watched my fair hopes die,
My heart grew cold and hard as stone.
Then balked Ambition vanquished Faith,
Whilst cruel Doubt usurped her throne.
O Soul! Thou knowest how I tried
To keep my faith in God and man,
But every hope was swept from me.
Why was it? Answer, if you can.
Soul! Is there joy enough in Heaven
To make amends for human woe?
Can all eternity atone
For what we suffer here below!
The preacher bids us kiss the rod,
And bow our heads to Heaven’s decree,
Says Sorrow is the lot of man;
But tell me, Soul! Why must it be?
Nay, gaze not with accusing eyes,
Mine eyes can stare as well as thine,
Those questions I have put to thee,
Thou can’st not answer, Soul of mine!
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