Poems (Hoffman)/From My Window

by Martha Lavinia Hoffman

FROM MY WINDOW

I see the Asylum's towers
Loom up 'gainst purpling hills behind,
Long sweeps, the shaded brown and green
Of field and meadow, lie between
Broidered with sprays of orchard flowers.

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

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

I know there is a better land
Else would we not forever find
Misery intruding on our bliss
And blighting what we love in this
With such a ruthless hand?

I see, I hear, I feel, I know
Life is a cloud, all glory lined;
Why fear to rise above the gloom
Above the blasts that blight earth's bloom
And spoil its promise so?