Poems (Clark)/Faithfulness
FAITHFULNESS
He came when the sweet spring blossoms Embroidered the robes of May,And the glint of a softer sunshine Enraptured and gladdened my way;He whispered the oft-told story, So old, and yet ever so new,And while he asked me to trust him, Said he would be faithful and true.
I thought no roses so fragrant As the ones that bloomed that June,'Twas the golden year of my lifetime, But it faded all too soon,For ere the gorgeous beauty Of the autumn quite had past,We said our farewell—alas! dear heart, I little thought 'twas our last.
Afar where Italia's sunsets Gild skies of the daintiest blue,He went with the proud ambition His glorious work to do;He said he would come to claim me, And I, oh! I still can but trust,I cannot believe him faithless, Although they tell me I must.
I wear his ring on my finger, The pledge of his troth to me,—The ring his proud old father brought From over the rolling sea.They say the gems and the setting Ill match my humble dress—What was it you were saying,— God has his own time to bless?
Was that what I said last evening? Ah! yes, and I'll you the rest,All, how my sorrow has left me And joy is my welcome guest.I was sitting, watching the shadows Creep down from the pines on the hill,As if loth to touch the maples All aglow by the brookside mill.
And I thought, till through the stillness Somebody spoke my name;Ah, well, last night was a picture, And God's love its golden frame,He has come-but now I must leave you, For I hear his step in the hall,You see it was well that I trusted, For he has proved true after all.