Thomas Cogswell Upham Poems

Rejoice not in thy wealth of house and fields,
Nor build your hopes and bliss on earthly fame;
Earth but a momentary glory yields,
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Oh, tell me no more of the blisses prevailing
In the tapestried halls of the noble and great,
Oh, tell me no more of the joys never failing,
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A Little bird I am,
Shut from the fields of air;
And in my cage I sit and sing
To Him, who placed me there;
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Dark is the watery way
Of life's tempestuous sea:
And none, Oh Christ, are safe, but they
Who put their trust in Thee.
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Alas, how ceaseless is life's silent tide!
How rapidly onward waters glide!
Not meads nor flowers, that crown its liquid way,
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I.
Sadly and slow the mourners came
Through Charleston's streets, with bleeding heart;
And breathed their hate on Rawdon's name,
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Long did the clouds and darkness roll
Around my troubled breast;
No starlight shone upon my soul,
My footsteps found no rest.
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My heart is in a land afar,
Unseen by mortal eyes;
A clime, that needs nor moon nor star
A land of cloudless skies.
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Say not, 'tis all a dreary way,
With rocks beset, with briars growing,
Where never beams of sunlight stray,
And ne'er a gentle stream is flowing.
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If there is sunshine in the face,
And joy upon the brow,
Do not suppose, that there's a trace
Of answering joy below.
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