Poems (Hornblower)/Lines (In grief's dark hour I ask for Thee)
For works with similar titles, see Lines.
LINES.
In grief's dark hour I ask for Thee, And fast descend my lonely tears;The voice consoling, soothing me,— The smile that banished all my fears,—
Are mine no more! ah no, in heaven They now increase some angel's joy;A nobler ministry is given That gentle heart—some blest employ.
An exiled one—I sit and weep; Oh! dost thou see the tears I pour,As I my twilight vigil keep, And give to thee thine own loved hour?
I did not think, beloved one, That I could thus have borne thy loss;Thus put my robe of darkness on, And bent beneath the bitter cross.
With humbled heart I kneel and bow, Till light breaks forth amidst the gloom;I feel the God of peace bestow The calm of heaven around thy tomb.
A blessed voice is hovering near, Ah! well I know each gentle tone;"Ye who on earth were once so dear, Though parted, I am still your own.
"Not hopeless weep—so live, my loved, As soon to meet me here in bliss;Toil on—my labours are approved, Come—share my sainted happiness."
Blest shade!—we dry our faithless tears, Bend each rebellious thought to Heaven,And walk in trust the few sad years, Still for our earthly conflict given.
The hope to meet thee on that shore, Shall soothe the sufferings of the way;Nor in our gloom will we deplore Thine entrance on the realms of day.