Poems (Clark)/Days

by Annie Maria Lawrence Clark

DAYS

One day, set into June's most fragrant garland,
 Aglint with sunshine and o'erspread with blue,—
A day when clasp of hands and kindly greeting
 Gave to my life a friendship warm and true.

Another day, when all the sky seemed leaden,
 And storms were sobbing through the wild March air,
When anguish tried my heart, and, weak and tempted,
 From quivering lips uprose a wordless prayer.

Next morn a friendly breeze had wrought strange beauty,
 The clouds were silver-lined and fringed with gold;
And my poor prayer had won a gracious answer,
 Of worth surpassing all past hopes foretold.

Once, when the pallid sunshine of December
 Shone over ice and ridgy stretch of snow,
A blessing came to me, and life's deep fountains
 Found spring-time fulness in their joyous flow.

That dreary winter day was rich with beauty,
 In that my life had found a safe release
From cankering doubts, and gained a trust, which rounded
 What had been tumult, into perfect peace.

Another day my memory holds as sacred,—
 Marking its year and date I've set a cross,
That tells a double tale of faith's completeness,
 And sorrow's tears when first I knew my loss.

Linked one by one, a chain of days engirdleth
 The round of duties making up our life,—
Now fair with peace, and gemmed with pearls of gladness,
 Now, woeful dark with grief and doubt's dull strife.

And He who views the end from the beginning,
 Watches our way with love's own pitying care;
And knows that evening will be sweet with praises,
 Whose morn was hallowed with the voice of prayer.