God knows all things -- but we
In darkness walk our ways;
We wonder what will be,
We ask the nights and days.
...
The summer rose the sun has flushed
With crimson glory may be sweet;
'Tis sweeter when its leaves are crushed
...
The moan of a wintry soul
Melted into a summer song,
And the words, like the wavelet's roll,
Moved murmuringly along.
...
They are so sad to say: no poem tells
The agony of hearts that dwells
In lone and last farewells.
...
Deep in the dark I hear the feet of God:
He walks the world; He puts His holy hand
On every sleeper -- only puts His hand --
...
Out of the silences wake me a song,
Beautiful, sad, and soft, and low;
Let the loveliest music sound along,
...
'What ails the world?' the poet cried;
'And why does death walk everywhere?
And why do tears fall anywhere?
...
At the golden gates of the visions
I knelt me adown one day;
But sudden my prayer was a silence,
For I heard from the 'Far away'
...
Some day in Spring,
When earth is fair and glad,
And sweet birds sing,
And fewest hearts are sad --I ...
...
Wilt pray for me?
They tell me I have Fame;
I plead with thee,
Sometimes just fold my name
...