Poems (Dodd)/In life's young morn
IN LIFE'S YOUNG MORN.
"O that I had wings like a dove, for then would I fly away and be at rest."
Psalm lv: 6.
In life's young morn, when all is fair to view, And cloudless skies our onward pathway cheer;In those soft depths of over-arching blue, We see no coming storm, and feel no fear;And when our barque is on a tranquil sea, Which seems to promise sunny days of rest,No wandering wish across the soul will flee, To leave a scene so peaceful and so blest.
But many an hour of weariness and care, Children of earth, must here our portion be,When, like a bird shut out from sun and air, The soaring spirit struggles to be free;When with an eagle faith we fix our gaze, On yonder heaven, the home of spirits blest,And like the pious bard of ancient days, Long for a refuge in the realms of rest.
If all our dearest hopes are early crossed, And the cold world looks idly on our grief; If those are false in whom we trusted most, And even friendship fails to give relief;Then, when a blight comes over all we love, And sorrow's weight is heavy on the breast,Fain would we take the pinions of the dove, To soar away from earth and be at rest.
A bitter draught is mingled in our cup, When prayers and tears are poured in vain to save,And the heart's treasures must be yielded up, To shroud, and pall, and darkness of the grave:When the freed spirit mounts to realms above, Where grief and pain may never more molest,Upon the wafting pinions of the dove, Fain would we follow to a land of rest.
Vainly we hope for happiness below, But heaven-eyed Faith points to a fairer shore,Where the worn heart no bitterness can know, And the sad eyes shall fill with tears no more.The clouds and storms which gather round our way, Are sent by One who knoweth what is best,To win us from a weary world away, To that far better land where all is rest.