Classic Poem

Because on the branch that is tapping my pane
A sun-wakened leafbud, uncurled,
Is bursting its rusty sheathing in twain
I know there is Spring in the world.

Because through the sky-patch whose azure and white
My window frames all the day long
A yellow bird dips in a billow of flight,
I know there is Song.

Because even here in this Mansion of Woe
Where creep the dull hours, leaden-shod,
Compassion and Tenderness aid me, I know
There is God.