Poems (Eaton)/"On our way, Sorrowing"

by Marcia Jane Eaton

"ON OUR WAY, SORROWING."

OH a sad world and weary,
 Is this in which we live;
Its paths are dark and dreary,
 And piercing thorns they give,
As toiling on our way we go,
With bleeding heart and aching brow.

The seasons in their rolling,
 Lament for pleasures fled—
The church-bell, in its tolling,
 Bewails the passing dead—
And sunny smiles and sparkling eyes
But show where hidden sorrow lies.

To earth, our common mother,
 We equally do tend,
Yet brother parts from brother,
 And friend forgets his friend,
And hearts which once true union swore,
Estranged and sorrowing, meet no more.

If such our lot, oh Father!
 Thou God in whom we trust;
If such our life, oh rather
 We were sleeping in the dust.
Released from sorrows we would be,
And find ourselves at rest with Thee.