Poems (Hale)/The true Source of Strength

by Mary Whitwell Hale

THE TRUE SOURCE OF STRENGTH.

          "Strength is bornIn the deep stillness of long suffering hearts,Not amid joy."Mrs. Hemans.

Not amid pleasure's giddy throng,Where sweetly breathes the siren song,Gathers the spirit strength to bearIts deepest, heaviest weight of care.

Not where the flashing eye beams brightWith hope's sweet ray and memory's light,Not where the wreath of rose-hued flowersWe weave to deck life's sunniest hours.

The siren strain, the gilded hall,Where light as air gay footsteps fall,—Not these that blessed gift bestow,Strength to sustain life's deepest wo.

But they above whose grief-bowed headNo herald light of day is shed,— Whose hearts no ark of rest discern,Whither the fluttering dove may turn,—

They who from childhood's earliest dayHave seen each brilliant hope decay,—These, these alone the fountains knowWhence streams of blessed healing flow.

Yes! fortune's frown, the altered gazeOf those who shared our brightest days,The weary day, the anxious nightScarce gloomier e'en than morning light,—

Like gentlest messengers they comeTo guide us to our unseen home.Strength from their mingling might is givenTo tread life's pilgrim path to heaven.

Thanks for the sunlight of our lot;Be not its Gracious Fount forgot:Yet shall our holiest praise arise,When He withdraws it from our eyes.