Classic Poem

Yes, I loved him all too well,
And my punishment is just,
But its greatness who can tell?
Still I have a stedfast trust
That the sorrow shall not last,
And the trial shall be past,
And my faith shall anchor fast.

Lord, Thou knowest, I have said,
All is good that comes from Thee;
Unto Thee I bow my head.
I have not repented me.
Still, oh! still 'tis bitter ill;
Still I have a stubborn will,
And my heart is haughty still:

Haughty in its humbleness;
Proud in its idolatry;
Let the loved heel gall and press
On my neck: so it should be.
'Twas in madness that I spake it:
Let him leave my heart or take it,
Let him heal my heart or break it;

But it still shall be for him,
It shall love him only still.—
Nay, it was no passing whim,
But a woman's stedfast will.
And this word is aye returning:
And I cannot quell the yearning
That in breast and brain is burning.

Tears of mine may quench it never,
Bitter tears shed all alone;
Dropping, dropping, dropping ever
For the thought of him that's gone:
Dropping when none see or know.
Woe is me! they only flow
For the joys of long ago.

Foolish one, were it not fitter
For thyself to mourn and pray?
Tho' thy Father's cup be bitter,
Put it not from thee away.
It is good and meet and right.
Yea, if darksome be the night,
The day dawn shall be more bright.

Hast thou too much time, in sooth,
For the work of penitence,
That thou wastest tears and youth
Mourning one who is gone hence?
For thyself cry out and weep
Ere that thou lie down and sleep,
And for ever silence keep.

Humbly strive to enter in
By the strait and narrow gate;
Strive the courts of Heaven to win,
Where nought maketh desolate;
Where are none to come and go;
Where no tears may ever flow;
Where nor death may be, nor woe.

And in prayer think thou of him
Who hath left thee sad and lone.
Pray that earth's light may grow dim,
So to him Heaven's light be shown.
Pray that, all thy sins forgiven,
Pray that, from his errors shriven,
Ye may meet at length in Heaven.