4568469Poems — CompensationsMary Elizabeth Blake
COMPENSATIONS.
"Why must we mourn for vanished light,
For pleasures lost, as fair as fleeting,
And weep beneath the eyes of night
The memory of our morning greeting?
Is joy too weak to live alway?
Is life so fond of pale-browed sorrow,
That every hope which blooms to-day
Must fade and die before to-morrow?"

But—"Nay,"—a voice within replied,
So sweet I could not choose but hear it,—
"God never yet hath light denied
To those whose souls can draw them near it,
Look up in trust, and see beyond
These clouds of ill, this vain repining,
A Father's strength sustained and fond,
A Father's love securely shining."

But doubting still and weak, I moan:
"Your heaven's too far—give something nearer;
Why are we left to stand alone,
With all gone by that made life dearer?
The friends we seek clasp hands and part,
The souls we love draw throbbing near us,
Eye speaks to eye, heart leans on heart,
Then naught remains to help or cheer us!"

"And yet, and yet,"the voice rang clear,
And proud as love and faith could make it,—
"While memory holds your friendship near
Can loss or change or sorrow break it?
Soul meets with soul;—an instant's ray
Can forge a chain no time can sever;
Through life, through death, by night and day,
Thus meeting once they meet forever!"