140
POEMS.
So heavy load of sorrow ay
That heart and voice could not obey,
And feet refused the lonely way,
So lonely, and so hard, and long.
That heart and voice could not obey,
And feet refused the lonely way,
So lonely, and so hard, and long.
It always chanced,—though chance is not,
The word when God befriends,—
That on such days to him was brought
Echo from some old song, forgot,
Which sudden made his lonely lot
Seem cast for worthier, sweeter ends.
The word when God befriends,—
That on such days to him was brought
Echo from some old song, forgot,
Which sudden made his lonely lot
Seem cast for worthier, sweeter ends.
Some stranger whose sad eyes were wet
With tears, would take his hands,
Saying, "O Singer, my great debt
To thee I never can forget.
My grief in thy grief's words was set,
And comforted forever stands."
With tears, would take his hands,
Saying, "O Singer, my great debt
To thee I never can forget.
My grief in thy grief's words was set,
And comforted forever stands."
Or else he heard, borne on the air
Where merry music rang,
Making the fair day still more fair,
Lifting the burden off of care,
Old words of his that did their share,
While happy people laughed and sang.
Where merry music rang,
Making the fair day still more fair,
Lifting the burden off of care,
Old words of his that did their share,
While happy people laughed and sang.
Or else,—O, sacredest of all,
And sweetest recompense,—
Love used his words, its love to call
By name: of his dead joy, the thrall
Waked live joy still, and could forestall
Love's utmost passion's subtlest sense.
And sweetest recompense,—
Love used his words, its love to call
By name: of his dead joy, the thrall
Waked live joy still, and could forestall
Love's utmost passion's subtlest sense.
