The Widow and the Fatherless

As on my road delaying,
The stream's cool waters by,
My thoughts in fancy straying,
I heard a plaintive cry:
" There may be hope in Heaven, —
For us no hope is here;
Oh, why was joy thus given,
So soon to disappear! "

Around the grave was weeping
A widowed, orphaned band;
Beneath their feet was sleeping
The husband, father, friend;
And as their sorrows swelling
Broke forth midst sigh and tear,
Again these words are telling, —
" Alas, no hope is here! "

The stream's cool waters flowing
No longer sung to me, —
The soft spring sunbeams glowing
Were cheerless all to see;
For still that widowed mother,
And still those orphans dear,
Bewailed my buried Brother , —
" Alas, no hope is here! "

M Y Brother ? yes, forsaken,
These lov'd ones round thee mourn;
Too soon from friendship taken,
Dear Brother, thou art gone!
Gone from a cold world's sighing,
From sorrow and from fear,
But left these mourners crying, —
" Alas, no hope is here! "

These tears, my heart, are holy!
These sighs by anguish driven,
This mourning group so lowly,
Are messengers of Heaven;
And so will I receive them,
As God shall give me cheer,
Protect them and relieve them,
And teach them H OPE IS HERE !
Translation: 
Language: 
Rate this poem: 

Reviews

No reviews yet.