Poems (Smith)/Musings

by Martha A. Smith

For works with similar titles, see Musings.

MUSINGS.

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I have thought my past life over,
 And look which way I may,
I can not see before me
 The slightest dawn of day.

Always to live thus lonely,
 Without one ray of light,
And know I'm going deeper
 Into the darker night.

Yet a voice is whispering ever—
 "Press onward, stricken heart!
There's rest for you in Heaven,
 When from this world you part.

Life can not be all sunshine;
 Take the bitter with the sweet;
The joys of the Hereafter
 We can not here repeat.

Perhaps 'tis well to suffer;
 'Tis well for us to wait
Until we meet in Heaven
 At the golden gate.