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Poems (Smith)/The Lady at the Ball

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4510658Poems — The Lady at the BallMartha A. Smith

THE LADY AT THE BALL.


Reflections at the Grand Union Ball, Saratoga, 1879.


Dear lady, amid the festive scenes to-night,
Thoughts come o'er me while I write:
When looking upon thee smiling with glee,
I thought thou must so happy be;
Never dreaming thy heart ached so within,
Caused by another's terrible sin.

While listening to thy tale of woe,
It touched my heart with sadness so.
This life is but a passing dream;
We smile at its follies, and happy seem;
But the aching heart God sees within;
We would live our lives all free from sin.

God afflicts those He loves, we know not why:
It will all be revealed after we die.
Oft we may weep and draw the deep sigh:
Little the world knoweth how bitter the cry
Goeth up to our God in heart-stricken woe,
While sorrows oppress as through life we go.
Our griefs will be over when this life is past,
If we are faithful our reward comes at last.