Poems (Ripley)/A Song of Hope
A SONG OF HOPE
Art sad, bowed down with weariness— Not strength enough to lift thy head? Ah, turn thy face out heavenward; The sky is blue o'erhead!
Art wholly blinded by hot tears— And canst not see for grief? Ah, let the sunlight kiss them off As the rain-drops, from the leaf!
Art stung by heartless words and cruel— Uttered in anger hastily—That rankle and burn and tear thy soul? Grieve not thy heart away.—
There's a silken rustle among the leaves, That fills with music the sweet air—And from the world of blossom and leaf There steals a glory everywhere.—
And at thy feet the grass is green; The sky bends softly o'er thy head; A little bird there clips the air In the sunlight overhead.
Ah, listen to his song and learn! Perhaps the tiny, feathered thing Knows thou art sorrowful, and sings To thee while on the wing.—
Ah, learn that in the world of men Thou oft must needs be sorrowful.—Of deep, sweet souls there seems a dirth, Yet joys are plentiful.—
And thou art loved, though thou thinkest not. And joys are all along thy way: Though in dark disguise they appear to thee,— Thou 'lt clearer see, some day.—