poems32

A TEN YEAR GRIEF
A year-old grief is still a wound
Which yet again may bleed:
A ten-year grief is but a scar
That no one stops to heed.

So look at grief which comes today,
A torn and jagged thing.
And try to see how it will heal
When dogwood blooms, some spring.

And try to fancy how with time
It�s cause will pass from mind,
And you will wonder when you see
The mark it leaves behind.

See how this grief which now is fresh,
So torturing, so sore,
Will in the end be like the rest,
A little scar, no more.
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AROUND THE CORNER
Around the corner I have a friend,
In this great city that has no end;
Yet days go by, and weeks rush on,
And yet before I know it a year is gone,
And I never see my old friend�s face,
For Life is a swift and terrible race.
He knows I like him just as well
As in the days when I rang his bell
And he rang mine. We were younger then,
And now we are busy, tired men;
Tired with playing a foolish game,
Tired with trying to make a name.
�Tomorrow,� I say �I will call on Jim,
Just to show that I�m thinking of him.�
But tomorrow comes - and tomorrow goes,
And the distance between us grows and grows.
Around the corner! - yet miles away...
�Here�s a telegram sir...�
   �Jim died today.�
And that�s what we get, and deserve in the end:
Around the corner, a vanished friend.
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YOUR TEARS
I dare not ask your very all,
   I only ask a part;
Bring me, when dancers leave the hall,
   Your aching heart.
Give other friends your lighted face,
   The laughter of the years;
I come to crave the greater grace -
   Bring me your tears.
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WHAT GOD HATH PROMISED
God hath not promised
Skies always blue,
Flower-strewn pathways
All our lives through;
God hath not promised;
Sun without rain,
Joy without sorrow,
Peace without pain.

But God hath promised
Strength for the day,
Rest for the labor,
Light for the way,
Grace for the trials,
Help from above,
Unfailing sympathy,
Undying love.
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EN VOYAGE
Whichever way the wind doth blow,
Some heart is glad to have it so;
Then, blow it east, or blow it west,
The wind that blows, that wind is best.
My little craft sails not alone;
A thousand fleets from every zone
Are out upon a thousand seas;
What blows for one a favoring breeze
Might dash another with the shock
Of doom upon some hidden rock.
Then whatsoever wind doth blow,
My heart is glad to have it so;
And, blow it east, or blow it west,
The wind that blows, that wind is bests.