Sorrows and Joys.
Bury thy sorrows, and they shall rise1
As souls to the immortal skies,2
And then look down like mothers’ eyes.3
But let thy joys be fresh as flowers,4
That suck the honey of the showers,5
And bloom alike on huts and towers.6
So shall thy days be sweet and bright,—7
Solemn and sweet thy starry night,—8
Conscious of love each change of light.9
The stars will watch the flowers asleep,10
The flowers will feel the soft stars weep,11
And both will mix sensations deep.12
With these below, with those above,13
Sits evermore the brooding Dove,14
Uniting both in bonds of love.15
Children of Earth are these ; and those16
The spirits of intense repose—17
Death radiant o’er all human woes.18
For both by nature are akin ;—19
Sorrow, the ashen fruit of sin,20
And joy, the juice of life within.21
O, make thy sorrows holy—wise—22
So shall their buried memories rise,23
Celestial, e’en in mortal skies.24
O, think what then had been their doom,25
If all unshriven—without a tomb—26
They had been left to haunt the gloom !27
O, think again what they will be28
Beneath God’s bright serenity,29
When thou art in eternity !30
For they, in their salvation, know31
No vestige of their former woe,32
While thro’ them all the Heavens do flow.33
Thus art thou wedded to the skies,34
And watched by ever-loving eyes,35
And warned by yearning sympathies.36