The Coming of Love
" THERE 's not a power in stern philosophy
Sufficient to control this eating grief,
No mortal circumstance can bring relief — "
This was my constant cry — " Ah wretched me!
Beyond the passing hour I nothing see,
But the dead flower, sour fruit, and blasted leaf,
And all the haggard shapes of misery,
With haunting care, life's ever-present thief."
Thus as I sorrowed — 'twas the year's fresh prime —
I saw a form born of the heaven and earth,
Clad in unparalleled grace, defying time
With her rich loveliness, that made a dearth
Of beauty in the world: Love rang his chime.
And youth came back to me with hope and mirth.
Sufficient to control this eating grief,
No mortal circumstance can bring relief — "
This was my constant cry — " Ah wretched me!
Beyond the passing hour I nothing see,
But the dead flower, sour fruit, and blasted leaf,
And all the haggard shapes of misery,
With haunting care, life's ever-present thief."
Thus as I sorrowed — 'twas the year's fresh prime —
I saw a form born of the heaven and earth,
Clad in unparalleled grace, defying time
With her rich loveliness, that made a dearth
Of beauty in the world: Love rang his chime.
And youth came back to me with hope and mirth.
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