Poems (Bass)/Mirth
Appearance
MIRTH.
Who has not felt his pulses gaily leap And throb and burn, the feeble step grow light And freer speed to scale life's fairest heightAs some sweet song, or merry jest or deepToned humorous note lulls lagging care to sleep. Man may be mirthful built and yet contrite, May bear a buoyant heart through darkest nightWhilst hope and love their angel vigil keep Twin foes of fear and gloom. Oh, loyal soulThat dares to walk upright with dauntless tread; Amid the din of battle and the rollOf thunder-guns storm shattered o'er thy head, Press on, press ever onward, to the goal,And round thee joy-refulgent freely shed.