Poems (Angier)/My Song

by Annie Lanman Angier

MY SONG.

I breathe no sigh o'er days gone by,
Nor would I mourn my vanished joys;
'Tis a childish part to vex the heart,
O'er faded pictures, broken toys.

And yet, not always have my feet
Trod thornless paths, 'mid flowers sweet
But ever have the passing years
Behind them left more smiles than tears.

The stately oak, with branches bared,
Smiles at the storm it proudly dared;
The rock the raging billow laves,
Laughs at the foe its firm base braves.

Earth hath no home, grief darkens not,
And though I share the common lot;
I humbly trust, I'm wiser grown,
For every pang my heart hath known.

Each thwarted plan and blighted hope,
Nerves me with future ill to cope;
And every bitter cup seems given,
To sweeten thought of rest and heaven.

The web of life hath mingled hues,
Which should prevail, I dare not choose;
Enough that in my every care,
I've met an angel unaware.

The way to Paradise must be
By Calvary, through Gethsemane,
Then what though clouds above me lower—
Can I not watch with Him one hour?

As speeds from well-trained hand the stone,
So quickly life's brief day is flown;
With scarce a ripple on Time's wave,
Between the cradle and the grave.

As best for all—may coming years
Blend sun and shadow, smiles and tears;
Each life is part of one great plan—
So ends my song, as it began.