SURPRISES
I.
O Earth, that had so long in darkness lain,
Waiting and listening for the Voice that cried,
"Let there be light!"—on thy first eventide
What woe, what fear, wrung thy dumb soul with pain!
In darkling space down dropt the red sun, slain,
With all his banners drooping. Far and wide
Spread desolation's vast and blackening tide.
How couldst thou know that day would dawn again?
But the long hours wore on, till lo! pale gleams
Of faint, far glory lit the eastern skies,
Broadening and reddening till the sun's full beams
Broke in clear, golden splendor on thine eyes.
Darkness and brooding anguish were but dreams,
Lost in a trembling wonder of surprise!
O Earth, that had so long in darkness lain,
Waiting and listening for the Voice that cried,
"Let there be light!"—on thy first eventide
What woe, what fear, wrung thy dumb soul with pain!
In darkling space down dropt the red sun, slain,
With all his banners drooping. Far and wide
Spread desolation's vast and blackening tide.
How couldst thou know that day would dawn again?
But the long hours wore on, till lo! pale gleams
Of faint, far glory lit the eastern skies,
Broadening and reddening till the sun's full beams
Broke in clear, golden splendor on thine eyes.
Darkness and brooding anguish were but dreams,
Lost in a trembling wonder of surprise!
II.
Even so, O Life, all tremulous with woe,
Thou too didst cower when, without sound or jar,
From the high zenith sinking fast and far,
Thy sun went out of heaven! How couldst thou know
In that dark hour, that never tide could flow
So ebon-black, nor ever mountain-bar
Breast night so deep, without or moon or star,
But that the morning yet again must glow?
Thou too didst cower when, without sound or jar,
From the high zenith sinking fast and far,
Thy sun went out of heaven! How couldst thou know
In that dark hour, that never tide could flow
So ebon-black, nor ever mountain-bar
Breast night so deep, without or moon or star,
But that the morning yet again must glow?
