Poems (Crandall)/Veiled
Appearance
Veiled
If we could know the motive power,
The soul of word and deed;
And if companions of the hour
Each other's thoughts could read,
From some we trust
With strong disgust
We'd shrink, to see—revealed
Neath gracious smiles—
Old Satan wiles
The tyrant sceptre wield,
The soul of word and deed;
And if companions of the hour
Each other's thoughts could read,
From some we trust
With strong disgust
We'd shrink, to see—revealed
Neath gracious smiles—
Old Satan wiles
The tyrant sceptre wield,
And flattery's tongue would speak in vain
"False, false," would echoes ring;
Foul slander vainly seek to pain,
And poisoned arrows fling.
Each cruel dart
Would pierce the heart
Of him who drew the bow,
Each wicked lie
Would quickly die,
And bring the coward low.
"False, false," would echoes ring;
Foul slander vainly seek to pain,
And poisoned arrows fling.
Each cruel dart
Would pierce the heart
Of him who drew the bow,
Each wicked lie
Would quickly die,
And bring the coward low.
True friends would nearer, dearer be,
And soul with soul commune.
No discord in life's melody,
Naught mar its perfect tune.
A thoughtless deed
We would not heed,
The purpose pure in view.
A careless word
Would pass unheard
If sure the heart were true.
And soul with soul commune.
No discord in life's melody,
Naught mar its perfect tune.
A thoughtless deed
We would not heed,
The purpose pure in view.
A careless word
Would pass unheard
If sure the heart were true.
Alas! we oft misunderstand
The ones we hold most dear;
Unbidden rise on either hand
Rude guests, dark doubt and fear.
An idle jest
May stir the breast
To swift and sharp reply.
A little pride,
The wound to hide,
A darkly flashing eye.
The ones we hold most dear;
Unbidden rise on either hand
Rude guests, dark doubt and fear.
An idle jest
May stir the breast
To swift and sharp reply.
A little pride,
The wound to hide,
A darkly flashing eye.
And thus is born a bitter strife,
Two souls in shadow cast;
Perhaps thro' all a future life
To mourn the friendship past.
The words we speak
Their mission seek
A power for good or ill;
They lightly fall
Beyond recall,
Nor heed our later will.
Two souls in shadow cast;
Perhaps thro' all a future life
To mourn the friendship past.
The words we speak
Their mission seek
A power for good or ill;
They lightly fall
Beyond recall,
Nor heed our later will.
Could we a brother spirit view
Cares, trials, hopes and aim,
The heart might throb with feelings new
And bless where now we blame.
Cares, trials, hopes and aim,
The heart might throb with feelings new
And bless where now we blame.
Then go your way
From day to day,
Heed not each gossip's tale;
For all we know
Of friend or foe
Are glimpses thro' the veil.
From day to day,
Heed not each gossip's tale;
For all we know
Of friend or foe
Are glimpses thro' the veil.