Crushed with a burden of woe, Wrecked in the tempest of sin: Death came, and two lips murmured low,
Star! Star, why dost thou shine Each night upon my brow? Why dost thou make me dream the dreams
Ah! days so dark with death's eclipse! Woe are we! woe are we! And the nights are ages long!
Out of the shadows of sadness, Into the sunshine of gladness, Into the light of the blest;
The moan of a wintry soul Melted into a summer song, And the words, like the wavelet's roll,
They are so sad to say: no poem tells The agony of hearts that dwells In lone and last farewells.
The Master's voice was sweet: "I gave My life for thee; Bear thou this cross thro' pain and loss,
O Heart of Three-in-the evening, You nestled the thorn-crowned head; He leaned on you in His sorrow,
Thou art sleeping, brother, sleeping In thy lonely battle grave; Shadows o'er the past are creeping,
At last the dream of youth Stands fair and bright before me, The sunshine of the home of truth
Oft within our little cottage, As the shadows gently fall, While the sunlight touches softly
Sweet, blessed beads! I would not part With one of you for richest gem That gleams in kingly diadem;
Life's Vesper-bells are ringing In the temple of my heart, And yon sunset, sure, is singing
Far from "where the roses rest", Round the altar and the aisle, Which I loved, of all, the best --
When falls the soldier brave, Dead at the feet of wrong, The poet sings and guards his grave
Back to where the roses rest Round a shrine of holy name, (Yes -- they knew me when I came)
First champion of the Crucified! Who, when the fight began Between the Church and worldly pride
Land of the gentle and brave! Our love is as wide as thy woe; It deepens beside every grave
The waves were weary, and they went to sleep; The winds were hushed; The starlight flushed
The Poet is the loneliest man that lives; Ah me! God makes him so -- The sea hath its ebb and flow,
Flower! Flower, why repine? God knows each creature's place; He hides within me when I shine,
At the golden gates of the visions I knelt me adown one day; But sudden my prayer was a silence,
The winds are singing a death-knell Out on the main to-night; The sky droops low -- and many a bark