Not Here
Softly the winds were fanning this fresh cheek,
When heedless boyhood loved to dream and stray
I loved earth's skies, nor deemed them sad or bleak;
Its fields seemed still to breathe of joyous May.
I said, what better home shall this heart seek?
Here let me dwell for aye.
Cold winter smote, frosts nipped, sore tempests broke,
And the dark cloud shut out the beauteous day;
The fair flower perished, and the blast's rude shock
Struck the strong pine, and swept its pride away;
My fond dream passed, I said, as I awoke.
" I would not live alway. "
Yet would I not turn back, nor faint, nor sigh,
Nor chun the war, nor murmur at the doom;
I see the beacon-light of yonder sky
Beyond the earth and sea — beyond the tomb!
And then I say, " O Saviour, ever nigh,
Light me through this cold gloom. "
When heedless boyhood loved to dream and stray
I loved earth's skies, nor deemed them sad or bleak;
Its fields seemed still to breathe of joyous May.
I said, what better home shall this heart seek?
Here let me dwell for aye.
Cold winter smote, frosts nipped, sore tempests broke,
And the dark cloud shut out the beauteous day;
The fair flower perished, and the blast's rude shock
Struck the strong pine, and swept its pride away;
My fond dream passed, I said, as I awoke.
" I would not live alway. "
Yet would I not turn back, nor faint, nor sigh,
Nor chun the war, nor murmur at the doom;
I see the beacon-light of yonder sky
Beyond the earth and sea — beyond the tomb!
And then I say, " O Saviour, ever nigh,
Light me through this cold gloom. "
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