Stanzas.
269
Till it reached the plain below
An altered thing,
Bearing trace and sign
Of its wandering.
Withered and noxious leaves
Floated on its brim,
And the blue, clear face of heaven
Was in its mirror dim.
Just thus my heart has changed
By the world which it has past;
Ah, hope, and truth, and feeling,
Are too pure to last.
But that stream will wash away
Its earthly soil and stain,
When its wandering has reached
Its grave, the main.
And such is my heart's hope
From sorrow and sully free,
It will find a glorious home—
Thy rest—eternity.
