Poems (Shipton)/Weep Not
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
"WEEP NOT."
"Now when He came nigh to the gate of the city, behold there was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow. . . . And when the Lord saw her, He had compassion on her, and said unto her, Weep not."—Luke vii. 12, 13.
"Weep not!" How vain the words! how sad in sorrow
Falleth the world's cold solace on the ear!
"Weep not!" Can gentle lips no phrases borrow
To soothe the grief that brings the bitter tear?
"Weep not!" Go tell the mother, when she presses
Her first-born to the breast, to smile no more:
If thou canst still her joy, her glad caresses,
Speak to the mourner, bid his grief be o'er.
Thou sayest, "Be calm; weep not!" Did we inherit
No earthly sympathies, to hold these frail
Endearing ties, then might the listening spirit
Heed thy wise counsel, and thy words prevail.
Is not our heart's sweet sunshine from the faces
We have best loved to look on? When 'tis flown,
Gaze we not backwards on its lingering traces,
As through life's darkened path we tread alone?
The bird pines for its mate; nay, if a flower
Be but too roughly from its green stem torn,
The tree will droop and die. It is the dower
Of hearts that best have loved, to deepest mourn.
"Weep not!" One voice hath breathed those words; none other
Can dry the tear;—as by the gates of Nain
His eye of pity marked the widowed mother,
And to her arms restored her son again.
Oh! softly tread where Sorrow's children languish
In silence; thou the bruised soul revere;
"Wake not the smitten heart to keener anguish;
With idle comfort vex not thou the ear.
Nay! let them weep by life's deserted dwelling,
In that deep silence God Himself will speak.
Oh! not for us to read the sorrow swelling
In the veiled heart that is so near to break:
The Saviour watcheth!—on His breast she weepeth.
With sweet compassion, He who spoke at Nain
Breathes to her soul, "A little time he sleepeth;
Weep not; I will restore thy child again."
Falleth the world's cold solace on the ear!
"Weep not!" Can gentle lips no phrases borrow
To soothe the grief that brings the bitter tear?
"Weep not!" Go tell the mother, when she presses
Her first-born to the breast, to smile no more:
If thou canst still her joy, her glad caresses,
Speak to the mourner, bid his grief be o'er.
Thou sayest, "Be calm; weep not!" Did we inherit
No earthly sympathies, to hold these frail
Endearing ties, then might the listening spirit
Heed thy wise counsel, and thy words prevail.
Is not our heart's sweet sunshine from the faces
We have best loved to look on? When 'tis flown,
Gaze we not backwards on its lingering traces,
As through life's darkened path we tread alone?
The bird pines for its mate; nay, if a flower
Be but too roughly from its green stem torn,
The tree will droop and die. It is the dower
Of hearts that best have loved, to deepest mourn.
"Weep not!" One voice hath breathed those words; none other
Can dry the tear;—as by the gates of Nain
His eye of pity marked the widowed mother,
And to her arms restored her son again.
Oh! softly tread where Sorrow's children languish
In silence; thou the bruised soul revere;
"Wake not the smitten heart to keener anguish;
With idle comfort vex not thou the ear.
Nay! let them weep by life's deserted dwelling,
In that deep silence God Himself will speak.
Oh! not for us to read the sorrow swelling
In the veiled heart that is so near to break:
The Saviour watcheth!—on His breast she weepeth.
With sweet compassion, He who spoke at Nain
Breathes to her soul, "A little time he sleepeth;
Weep not; I will restore thy child again."