Poems (Hoffman)/From My Window

by Martha Lavinia Hoffman

FROM MY WINDOW

I see the Asylum's towersLoom up 'gainst purpling hills behind,Long sweeps, the shaded brown and greenOf field and meadow, lie betweenBroidered with sprays of orchard flowers.

I hear the maniac's awful shriek,The anguish of the tortured mind;A linnet from a cherry boughIs pouring forth such gladness nowAs none would try to speak.

I feel the solemn, awful factOf pain and sin to earth assigned,Mercy in sunshine, bird and bloomCovers with wings the darkest tomb;Yet earth hath something lacked.

I know there is a better landElse would we not forever findMisery intruding on our blissAnd blighting what we love in thisWith such a ruthless hand?

I see, I hear, I feel, I knowLife is a cloud, all glory lined;Why fear to rise above the gloomAbove the blasts that blight earth's bloomAnd spoil its promise so?