Classic Poem

Soul, thou'rt lonely—calm and lonely,
Lonely as the stricken deer,
Waiting for its lost companions
Slaughtered in the distant mere,
Sadness is thy earthly portion,
Sadness that beclouds the mind,
Scarce a single vestige leaving
Of God's glorious light behind.
Yes, my soul, thou'rt sad and lonely.
Be thou to thy lot resigned.

Couldst thou but forget the moments,
Few in number, that have pass'd
O'er thee, like the light of evening,
Leaving all in gloom at last;
Could some gently-rolling Lethe
Wash remembrance from the mind,
Blotting out the golden day-dreams
Those fond moments left behind;
Then, my soul, how shouldst thou triumph!
Then thou mightest be resigned.

But so long as memory looketh
With regret upon the past,
Feasting on the priceless treasures
Then, in brighter days, amassed,
Will the sweet remembrance foster
This drear loneliness of mind,
Though my best resolves should prompt thee,
Like true friends with counsel kind,
To shake off thy chains of bondage,
And be to thy lot resigned.

Yes, my soul, thou'rt sad and lonely,
Lonely as the mateless dove,
When the cruel blasts of winter
Have deprived it of its love.
Could fond Hope resume its empire
Over my deserted mind,
And retouch the fading day-dream
Dim within my thoughts enshrined,
Then couldst thou shake off this sadness,
To thy future lot resigned.