Poems (Hazlett-Bevis)/Unhappy
Unhappy?
"Unhappy?" No; why do you ask? Because my pen is found To trace in words of no light task A sympathy profound With all that tends toward sadness? Is't thus you reason, friend, And think my heart knows not of gladness; And thus my life will end? Ah, then 'tis not given you here to see That underneath this veil, A heart of love beats full and free And hath a happy tale To tell, as well as that of sorrow. You do not know the signs; Take heed for often coming morrow, And learn the sun shines Where the storms have raged the fiercest, And the calm that falls Is greater where an arrow piercest The hush of Memory's halls. So if I write in mournful strain, Paradoxical I see, And hear the joy through waves of pain Of Earth's humanity. "Unhappy!" Not when He hath given Me scope to soar aloft And commune with minds who've striven And reached the goal so oft.